"Damn it, Hawke! Stop moving!"

Lana flinched violently, feeling a twang of nerves react all over her body. She was lying topless, flat on her stomach, sprawled across the giant four-poster bed that she shared with Isabela on their ship. Isabela was straddling her, sitting on her bottom and leaning over her carefully as she pierced the severed skin on her bloodied back with a tiny needle, threading shut what remained of the long, gaping wound that travelled from the front of her right bicep all the way to her shoulder blade. Fresh trickles of blood dripped off the end of her body as she squirmed under the warmth of the pirate's hands and the uncomfortable pricking sensation of the needle, feeling the wound sting like a bitch. Damn Qunari! They just never miss an opportunity to take a chunk out of me. She could hear Isabela's slow breathing behind her, feeling it tickle her back as the pirate concentrated hard on trying to do a good job (a feat damn near impossible because of Lana's constant jerks).

"You know," Lana gasped, flinching again as Isabela tugged the stitch to tighten her sewing into a neat little line. "I think the Qunari have enough pieces of me to make their own Hawke. Do you think she'd be as good looking as I am?"

Isabela tried to stop her hand shaking as she sniggered, not wanting to break the thin thread that was barely holding the two sides of Hawke's delicate skin together. "Probably," she replied gently, resuming her precision sewing after a few deep, steadying breaths, "Chances are they just made a sexy effigy out of you though. Qunari-made Hawke is probably burning atop a giant bonfire as we speak for being an Arishok Killer and for driving them all out of Kirkwall."

Lana shivered, "Hmm...Comforting. Thanks Bela."

Isabela grinned. "I always aim to please," she joked, looping the needle and beginning to pierce the skin again.

"That seems like such a waste though," Hawke continued, grimacing slightly. "If we run into her I wouldn't mind inviting her out for a pint sometime."

Isabela laughed even more, her hand shaking dangerously.

"Are we actually having this conversation?" she asked. She saw a cheeky smirk appear on Hawke's sweating face. Lana lifted her head a little and glanced back at her as best she could.

"Oh, come on," she teased, "Don't tell me if there was another Isabela running about that you wouldn't have hit that already."

They both laughed. Isabela realised she had a point then. "You got me," she conceded, "And you have rather peaked my interest in this matter."

Hawke giggled, "Hey, two Hawke's are better than one right? I mean, who's to say that those damn Saarebas haven't created another, even better, more improved Lana Hawke with the plan to unleash her on Thedas one day? I'm just saying...I'd be up for it if you were...Which you clearly would be."

Isabela laughed loudly, her hovering hand holding the needle flopping clumsily. All of a sudden, the stitches on Hawke's shoulder pulled too tightly, making the woman's smile disappear in an instant and causing her face to contort in agony as the delicate skin on her back overlapped in places across the wound. Fresh blood began to seep out.

"Shit," Isabela cursed, hearing her sharp intake of breath and seeing her teeth bare in anguish. "Sorry, Sweetness. Stop making me laugh, will you? This is hard enough as it is."

"Nothing I can't handle," Lana replied stiffly, closing her eyes to try and block out the ache and the gentle pricking and tugging of the pirate's needle. Isabela snorted.

"All evidence to the contrary," she teased, running a gentle finger over the leaking stitches to even them out and close the wound fully once more."I bet you squealed like a bitch when it happened."

Lana sniggered, her breathing becoming less burdened then. "At least I stood and fought," she countered, "Been chased by anymore Crows lately?"

Isabela snorted in response. Fair point. She bent down, kissing her on the cheek before continuing with her medical expertise. "I knew you'd get yourself into a state, sweet thing. I had to run. Who's going to save you if I die?" she said gently, "I doubt Aveline would have you straddled like a whore in a brothel, piercing your bleeding crack with a tiny needle."

Lana groaned, "Ugh, you certainly have a way with words, Bela," she said, chuckling silently. "How very eloquently put. However, for your information, Av would have probably taken the blow for me, complained I wasn't paying enough attention and then nagged me to death about it for weeks afterwards. Needless to say I prefer this outcome more."

Isabela laughed. The Big Girl always did like to play the mother hen. She continued threading the last few splits in the long wound, feeling Lana's fingers tickle her left leg affectionately as she worked, a little too distracting for their own good. Finally, she leaned down and bit the end of the thread, spitting the needle onto the floor for the time being then reaching for the matches on the bedside cabinet.

"Ok, worst bit coming up," she warned. "It seal the wound time."

"Ughh, can't we just leave it as it is?" Lana moaned, not relishing this part at all.

"Not unless you want an infection," the pirate replied. Hawke whimpered.

"I miss Bethany," she said, wishing her sister was here to heal her magically instead of all this extra pain.

"Oh, don't be such a prat, Hawke. I've done this many a times. Are you ready or not?"

Hawke braced herself. "No," she cringed, tightening up in anticipation. Isabela chuckled and left the remainder of the thread dangling along her back as she took a match out of the box.

"On three," she began, preparing to strike. "One-"

"No counting," Hawke pled, her teeth bared. She remembered back to their foray into The Deep Roads when Isabela had to put her dislocated fingers back in place. The counting down is sometimes the worst bit. "Just do it," she said, her voice more high-pitched than usual as she waited for the burn.

Isabela smirked. "As you wish."

She struck the match instantly before Hawke could scurry away and lit the end of the thread, seeing the flames travel along the thin line, sizzling and sparking until it singed at the corner of the wound, closing her medieval stitching the old fashioned way. Hawke recoiled, her every nerve on end. She grabbed handfuls of the bed covers below her, in too much pain to even scream as the fresh wound stung like a slattern's asshole the morning after a hot session at The Blooming Rose. Isabela chuckled then kissed her on the spine comfortingly, before climbing off her and collecting up her equipment. Finally Hawke found her voice.

"Shiiiiitttt!" she hissed, her face screwed up in agony. "Maker's saggy ball-sack...Arggh, I hate you, Bela! I bloody hate you!"

Isabela laughed, placing her med-supplies in a sack on the bedside table for safekeeping. She grabbed a piece of cloth and wiped the dried blood from her hands then reached for a red potion and un-stoppered it. Lana coughed and spluttered, still trying to catch her breath after the shock. She looked up through teary eyes, seeing the pirate was back in view and hovering over her now. "Open your mouth," she ordered.

"Aren't you used to hearing that rather than saying it?" Hawke joked. Isabela flicked her on the forehead hard.

"Just do it, Hawke. This will help the pain."

"Is it whiskey?" Hawke whimpered hopefully. The Rivaini sniggered, rolling her eyes. She tipped a small amount on the health potion into Lana's open mouth then kissed it shut, tasting some of the syrupy liquid on her lips. She saw Lana close her eyes and exhale in relief, feeling the warm potion travel through her body like mana swirling inside of a mage. Leaning on one hand while stroking the woman's brown hair with the other, Isabela sat herself on the edge of the bed, staring down into her beautiful face, seeing the pain etched there like a scar in its own right. Heavy, bloodshot brown eyes gazed up into the concerned amber ones then, observing her closely. A moment passed between them, all joking and messing around aside.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable with that level of intimacy, Isabela leaned down and kissed Lana lightly, breaking their silent staring contest. For some reason she couldn't handle looking into the woman's eyes like that recently. It made her feel naked, more exposed than usual. There was still a lot of lingering tension between them after their recent trip to Antiva City. A lot more things needed to be said, but neither woman was willing to break the uneasy peace. At least not yet anyway.

The ship had set sail a few hours ago, onwards to a new location along with a new 'guest' on board, rescued from Velabanchel Prison by the King. He was now downstairs in the mess hall, eating a long-awaited meal and being bombarded with questions from Alistair no doubt, who was trying to find out answers about his lost heritage. This was the first time in almost a week that Hawke found she had Isabela all to herself. She felt like they hadn't been in the same room together in an age. The pirate Captain always ran a tightly knit crew, taking a very hands-on approach as she so loved to do. Piracy made her feel alive. Being out on the open sea with only the wind, the rain and a few greased up sailors in attendance was the best feeling in the world. Lana had a sneaking feeling that she was now using it as an excuse in order to avoid being alone with her though. Ever since Isabela's nightmares had taken on a frenetic pace, the woman had been putting off spending anytime with her love, fearing Hawke would eventually ask her about the nature of her dreams and press further into her painful past, unleashing unrelenting demons on an already tortured mind. And I'm not ready to talk about any of that just yet. Maybe I never will be.

Lana reached up and caressed her face gently, feeling the pirate touch her hand in response. Isabela pulled away from her then, letting her go. She got to her feet without looking at Hawke further and began to walk towards the door, feeling a lump in her throat. Hawke sighed. She can't even spend two seconds with me anymore, she thought sadly. At least not any kind of two seconds that I want to share with her.

"Bela?" she called weakly, staring after her.

The pirate turned back and gave her a strained smile, seeing that she hadn't yet fully recovered from her injury. "Yes?"

Hawke swallowed hard, trying to ignore the growing pain in her shoulder. "Can you..." She paused, wanting to question her behaviour, but in a way that would avoid upsetting her. Seeing a muscle in Isabela's jaw twitch, Hawke sighed in defeat. "Can you... bring me some toast?" she finished tamely.

Isabela's smile became more sincere then. Her body relaxed out of her defensive stance at the innocence of the question. "Of course, Sweetness," she replied, throwing her a wink. "I'll bring you some wine as well if the men haven't drunk it all."

"Thank you."

Hawke exhaled, watching her leave regretfully. She was starting to wonder if any of this Alistair business was such a good idea anymore. Being back in Antiva for that length of time seemed to have unhinged Isabela somewhat, lest she let on anything was different. She was battling something internally, day in, day out, trying her best not to show any weakness. It didn't bode well for her character. Now however, the effort seemed pointless. Lana had begun to see in her eyes that she was really hurting. Maybe it was because she had spent the last few years in such close proximity to her that she was now starting to see cracks in the woman's otherwise flawless exterior, the masquerade of the carefree pirate that she wore when in the company of others. But Isabela just continued to refuse to let her in. The events of Antiva City had forced a wedge between them, and it seemed that with time it was only going to get bigger before it eventually blew up in their faces. Their relationship always did have the potency of Gatlock...and the fuse was gradually burning smaller and smaller.

"I think perhaps you two should stop focusing the extent of your relationship on sex and start communicating in other ways lest you burn yourselves out."

Hawke remembered then, the words Aveline had spoken to them both back in her Estate in Kirkwall a few years previous. She considered them for the first time, having ignored them before (as she so often did with the Guardswoman's advice). Was it possible that this was what she had meant? Lana and Isabela had been too blinded by the early, exciting stages of their long-fought romance to heed her words wisely at the time. Maybe she was right all along, Hawke thought grimly, staring at the cabin door in regret. Now that the sex has dried up, we're finding it difficult to communicate without arguing or pissing the other one off.

As the door reopened then, and the pirate returned with her toast, Hawke closed her eyes quickly, pretending to have fallen asleep. She couldn't bear to see that look in Isabela's eyes again, afraid of what direction any conversation between them would take as she began to realise that Aveline had sussed them out long before either of them had even realised their mistake. They'd had relationship blinders on from the very beginning, as many new couples did, and only now were cracks starting to appear, cracks that were demanding not to be ignored for any longer. Maybe one more night of ignorance wouldn't hurt though, Lana thought to herself, hearing the pirate place the plate of toast and goblet of wine on the bedside table. She felt the soft, full lips of Isabela kiss her forehead gently before she stood up and left again, believing her ruse of sleep. Lana felt an uncomfortable tug at her heartstrings, hearing the door close behind her with a definitive snap. Maybe she should leave their relationship to stew a little longer. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.


"The Crows won't catch up with a boat this size, but keep sailing south just to be sure. We'll double back if need be when the King decides our next destination," Isabela ordered her First-Mate Brand. The little elf saluted her.

"Yes, Captain Isabela," he replied, holding the helm and directing the magnificent ship through the calm, midnight seas. "How is Serah Hawke doing? That was quite a cut she suffered at the hands of that giant bastard."

"Better," Isabela replied vaguely, "Just keep you mind on steering the ship, Brand. Let me worry about her."

"Sir."

He watched the Captain as she walked away, taking up her usual position at the front of the ship and staring out in to the blackness. Isabela wondered if Lana had woken up yet, having left her in peace a few hours ago. It had been a rough day for her. That was no simple flesh wound she had suffered at the hands of the Qunari beast in order to save the life of the King of her former country. Lana had almost bled half to death on the way back to the ship, held up only by Isabela as they tried to outrun their pursuers and get to the docks in one piece with their prisoner. Yet all the woman could do was joke about now having two cracks instead of one, making the others laugh. The death-defying action was a welcome distraction from everything that had transpired recently. It was all this downtime that was hardest to bear for them both, and Isabela could feel it grating on her nerves.

The Rivaini rubbed her tired eyes, feeling simply exhausted. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in Maker knew how long. Antiva had been too much for her it seemed. Maybe I shouldn't have taken Hawke to see that damned Estate, she cursed, picturing the house in her head once more. She knew that it was the right thing to do of course, knowing how difficult it must be for Lana to discover everything about her from someone else. At least now she knows I'm trying to share with her. It's hard though, considering that I've always been a naturally selfish person. You don't survive on these seas without having a cold heart and a sharp tongue. Yet even as she convinced herself that she was doing right by Hawke, there was still so much about her past that remained a mystery, a mystery that she had no desire to allow the woman to uncover. Little bits of the truth here and there would only sedate Hawke's interest for so long. It was hard to know where to begin though, but she knew she would eventually have to start somewhere.

"Meditating?"

Isabela jumped and turned around, seeing Varric leaning up against the rail of the ship, one leg crossed over the other, exuding his familiar sense of coolness. Alistair wasn't far behind. He sighed, resting his backside against the opposite rail, and folded his arms as his cloak blew in the gentle, night time breeze.

"Something like that," Isabela replied with a small grin.

"Hawke?" the King asked.

"Sleeping like a baby. How's our guest doing?"

"Gorging himself in the galley as we speak," the dwarf told her matter-of-factly, chuckling quietly. He turned to Alistair. "Not the man you were looking for, huh?"

Alistair shook his head grimly. "I...I was looking for King Maric," he revealed finally, having been coy with the details of their rescue before.

"Your father?" Isabela asked, surprised. "I thought he was dead."

"Maric disappeared thirteen years ago at sea," he informed her, leaning his hands back on the wooden rail of the ship and staring up at the moon, gazing into its face as though it held the answers her was searching for. "There was no trace of him, nothing to find...At least not until Prince Claudio sent me evidence to say that he had been captured by the Crows."

"So why rescue the old man?" Isabela pressed. I'd have bloody left him there.

"He recognised me as Maric's son," Alistair replied, "I dunno, maybe he thought I was my brother. After all, not many people knew that I actually existed besides a handful."

"Well, you do look extraordinarily like Cailan," Isabela said with a grin, "Though I think you're at least a tad smarter than he was."

Alistair chuckled, "Why thank you! Always the flatterer, Isabela...Anyway, I knew the old man would at least have some answers for me, and I wasn't disappointed. Well, not exactly. Maric was his cellmate. According to him the Crow's took him away every day for questioning. He said he didn't know what they wanted from him, having never spoken to Maric of his crimes. But then, one day, Maric was freed by the Witch of The Wilds."

"Wasn't that an old hag who played Hawke back in Kirkwall?" Varric interrupted, "You know," he turned to Isabela, "The old woman who sprung out of a locket, insulted us then changed into a dragon before our very eyes? It was like something out of one of my stories...Needless to say I embellished a little when I retold it."

Isabela chuckled, "Naturally," she replied, "But yes, that was her. Asha-something-or-other Kitten had called her."

"I met her too," Alistair admitted, "She was the one who put me on the path to become King, and the reason myself and the Hero of Ferelden survived Ostagar. However she isn't the only Witch of The Wilds. There are two more that I know of."

"Hmm, yes I remember the old fable about witches from back in Antiva," Isabela said, folding her arms under her massive breasts and leaning against the rail of the ship.

"That's the one," Alistair said, "Yavana, the Beast of the Tellari Swamps."

"Another witch?" Varric exclaimed, "Wonderful."

"Indeed," Alistair agreed, hearing the sarcasm in the dwarf's voice, "In fact she's sister of a mage I fought alongside during the Blight. Not to mention who I...Nevermind."

"Ooo, I'm sensing a story here," Isabela swooned, throwing the blushing King a smirk. Varric wheezed with laughter.

"Haven't you already made him cream his drawers once before, Rivaini?" the dwarf asked, making Alistair go even pinker. Both he and the pirate chuckled at the King's expense.

"Maker, I hate you two," he groaned, shaking his head. They laughed even more, seeing him turn away and lean over the wooden rail, staring down into the crashing waves of the water below as they lashed against the side of the ship. "I thought my father was a prisoner," he continued, his back to them. "According to the man we rescued, Maric left a message for his son saying that he was sorry and that he had to do it."

"Do what?" Isabela pressed. Alistair sighed.

"I don't know," he admitted, "But if he escaped then I have to find out what happened to him, why he abandoned his kingdom."

"And why he abandoned you?" Varric ventured lightly.

"I grew up to be a Templar, Varric," Alistair replied, "Not a King...Never a King. My mother was a servant. Maric barely even knew I existed."

"Who cares?" Isabela said, "Who wants to be Royalty anyway? It's sounds bloody boring."

The others chuckled. Alistair straightened up and turned back to them. "That's what I say," he agreed, smiling at Isabela. "Though aren't you a Queen yourself?"

"Pirate Queens are different," Isabela replied with a cheeky smirk, "We still like to get our hands dirty."

Alistair shifted his feet, embarrassed, as Varric laughed at the double entendre. "Anyway," he continued, "Since I'm still aboard your ship and you haven't made me walk the plank yet, is there any chance you're still interested in my quest?"

"If there is more coin to be had," Isabela said with a nod.

"Of course," Alistair agreed, "Plenty more...I fear I'm nowhere near finished just yet."

Isabela grinned, "That's what I like to hear. Where to next then, oh mighty King of Ferelden?"

"Can you take me to the Tellari Swamps?" Alistair asked timidly, watching the pirate walk away towards the helm. She tuned back and winked at him.

"For you, anything...But just the once," she teased, "I'll tell the crew to set course." The watched her turn away and begin barking orders. "Anselmo! Celso! Hands out of your trousers and up on the mast!"

Alistair and Varric chuckled and threw each other an impressed look.

"She's different when she's Captain," the King said, walking with the dwarf downstairs to the mess hall. "I sort of like it."

"Careful Blondie," Varric warned, "Keep eyeing up our Rivaini like that and Hawke will have your head."

The King threw back his head with laughter and held the cabin door open for his companion. "Then I'd best keep my thoughts to myself then, lest either of them see me gawking."

"Ho, ho! It finally comes out then," Varric exclaimed, passing him and leading them down the stairs. "I knew you had a thing for them both, mainly Hawke. Might I just warn you beforehand that you have no chance?"

"Ouch!" Alistair exclaimed, following him down into the holds, "It's not like I would ever have the courage to try, Varric, so the point is mute...Oh, and I also happen to be married. Maker, I keep forgetting that."

The two of them chuckled and made their way over to a dusty, wooden table and began to pour themselves a drink.


"You're not worth that much, Naishe. It didn't take long to negotiate..."

"I'm Luis, your new husband..."

"Mother!"

"This is the end, Naishe..."

"You're going to do what I say...I own you..."

"Into the evening room, bitch! My friends and I would like some...entertaining..."

"Mother!"

"I'll enjoy taming you..."

"Get back here you dirty whore..."

"Someone grab her..."

"Argghhh!"

"Isabela!?"

"Get off me!"

"I have successfully converted..."

"Are you really going to choose the Qun over your own daughter...?"

"I'll kill you!"

"Isabela, stop! It's me!"

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your balls..."

"I'll never forgive you..."

"You're not my daughter anymore..."

"MOTHER!"

"ISABELA!"

Hawke wrestled with the squirming pirate, who was thrashing around in her sleep and yelling at the top of her voice. She could feel the stitches on her shoulder threaten to burst as she grabbed Isabela's flailing arms that were lashing out at her. The woman was covered in sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she remained trapped in her nightmare. Lana's eyes were wide with fear. She had never seen this before in her life, having usually been the only one to have nightmares, but now she fully understood how nerve-wrecking it had been for Isabela all those years ago back in Kirkwall as she slept beside her.

"Isabela?"

Finally the pirate's eyes sprung open. Thank The Maker! She struggled ever so slightly against the strong hands that had pinned her arms over her head, before seeing a face she recognised. Lana saw recognition register on her face as she stared down into the woman's wide eyes through the semi-darkness of the Captain's Quarters, seeing her come back to reality at last.

"H-Hawke?" she said hoarsely, feeling the other's weight pressed against her lower body, while strong hands pinned her own down on the pillow behind her head.

"It's me," Lana reassured, hearing how heavy she was breathing. The white shirt she was wearing was drenched in sweat and Hawke then realised she had fallen asleep in full armor, seeing the steel , mismatched gauntlets travelling the length of her left arm and feeling the smooth leather of Isabela's gloves in her grasp.

"Let me go," Isabela said coldly then, trying to squirm free. Hawke did as she was told and climbed off of her, letting herself gently down onto her side of the bed once more, feeling her shoulder cry out in pain. She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, hearing the bed creak as Isabela climbed out the other side and got to her feet. There was a quick scratching sound as she struck a match nearby and lit a hand-held candle in a stone holder on the small round table a short distance from their bed. The pirate then began to fumble in the cabinet beside it, pulling out a dusty bottle of port and two mugs.

"You're scaring me..."

Hawke's hoarse voice made her turn around. The woman was still staring up at the ceiling, avoiding looking at her. She was trying to catch her breath after the rude awakening and the struggle that followed. Isabela sighed, knowing she had hit her at least once and screamed for her mother like a little girl. The thought sickened her.

"I know, Sweetness," she said gently. She placed the bottle down on the table then walked back over beside her. Isabela sat down on the side of the bed and placed a hand on Hawke's flat stomach, giving her a little comforting pat. "How's your shoulder?"

"Fine," Hawke replied flatly, still not looking at her.

Isabela smiled sadly, knowing she was lying. So we're back to 'I'm fine' again? she wondered, Maker, I haven't heard that in a while...Brings back memories.

"Come have a drink with me," she said, shifting in closer towards her, brushing against her thigh. She heard Lana exhale and saw her bring a hand up to her forehead and close her eyes. She looked even more exhausted than Isabela felt. "Hawke...?"

A moment of silence passed.

"I don't feel like it," she replied finally.

The pirate stared at her for several seconds, silence falling over them once more. She withdrew her hand and got to her feet, walking back towards the table. Feeling a little angry and let down, Isabela pulled the cork out of the bottle of port and began to pour herself a generous helping. She pushed the wooden stopper back on top of the green bottle then opened the cupboard and shoved it inside roughly, slamming it shut. As she made to turn back to her drink an arm threw itself around her from behind, hugging her tightly. Her heart warmed. Isabela smiled to herself, then touched the hand resting along her chest, turning to find Hawke's head resting on her right shoulder.

"Sorry," Lana whispered in her ear, giving her a one armed hug as she was unable to move the other just yet. Isabela closed her eyes and rested her head against hers, sighing with relief. Thank The Maker...She felt Hawke kiss her on the cheek then swivelled around in her hug, turning around to face her. There was concern in the woman's chocolate-brown eyes, concern for her that she had never seen burn so brightly before.

"Don't apologise," Isabela whispered back, caressing her soft cheek. She leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her lips before wrapping her arms around her and holding her close, having never wanted nor needed a hug so much in her life. Certain voices from her nightmare were still ringing in her ears, torturing her even in her waking moments.

"Are you alright?" Hawke breathed softly in her ear, knowing just how much she had needed to be held, more so than she needed a drink.

"I don't know," Isabela admitted reluctantly, burying her face in the woman's neck and sighing. It was the first time she had ever admitted that her wellbeing was anything but a foregone conclusion. The fact that she was saying it aloud made Lana ten times more concerned than she had been before. Knowing that now was definitely the wrong time to talk about it however, Hawke squeezed her tightly then pulled back, staring into her eyes.

"Come on," she said, brushing a lock of Isabela's hair behind her ear and giving her a reassuring smile. "Let's have that drink."

Isabela smiled in thanks then seated herself down as Lana fetched the bottle of port from the cupboard once more and filled herself a mug. She sat herself down on the chair beside Isabela's and dragged it in closer, then rested her arm around the pirate. Isabela leaned in to her and rested her head on Lana's good shoulder. She took a long sip of her drink then placed it on the table and closed her eyes.

"Where are we heading?" Hawke asked after several minutes had passed, wondering why the ship was now travelling at such speed rather than simply drifting like it had been before.

"The Tellari Swamps," the Captain informed her, "The man we found wasn't Maric."

Hawke snorted, "I thought as much. Maric's dead, everyone knows that."

"Maybe not," Isabela replied, remembering the King's words. "Or so Alistair believes. I guess we're on our way to find out, aren't we?"

Hawke nodded, raising her mug to her lips. "Guess so."

They sat and drank in silence for a while, Isabela slowly sinking further into Lana's embrace. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, her hand fell limply from the mug on the table that she had been nursing and onto Hawke's lap. Hawke tilted her head down a little, seeing the pirate had succumbed to exhaustion in her arms. Smiling to herself, Lana placed her own mug down on the table then got to her feet carefully, scooping Isabela up in her arms while trying not to wake her. She carried her over to their bed then lay her down gently, hearing the woman snore softly. Hawke unbuckled the gauntlets on her arms, then her leather gloves and slid off the thigh-high boots she was still wearing. When Isabela was left in nothing more than her white shirt (corset strings loosened of course) Hawke pulled the heavy cover up over her then blew out the candle on the table before making her way over to the other side of the bed, climbing in beside her. She shimmied over until their bodies were touching and leant up on her left arm, staring down into Isabela's peaceful face as she slept. That drink seemed to have done the trick thankfully. Lana stroked her face gently, watching her sleep, then bent down and placed a little kiss on her lips.

"Sweet dreams, Isabela," she whispered.

The pirate snored in response as Hawke lay her own weary head down and held her close, soon falling into a deep, much-needed sleep of her own.