Chapter 10

It had been an exceptionally bad week.

Varric and Hawke had been taken for ransome. Hawke's friend's had managed to get them back, but at a high price.

A very high price.

No one was really talking about.

Isabela, least of all. She had gone just this side of insane. She'd been a few weeks away from delivering and probably shouldn't have gone, but no one could talk her out of it. What if Hawke didn't come back?

One of the mages that had arranged the thing ended up using a blood magic ritual with the fetal blood, it terminated the pregnancy and Hawke got the opportunity to fight her own child as a demon.

It had been beyond awful, even by Kirkwall's standards of awful.

Hawke's merry band of misfits had left going separate ways, and left Isabela and Hawke to deal with it on their own as best they could, which wasn't well.

When Hawke walked into the Hanged Man a few weeks later Isabela on the verge of letting herself get passed around by three guys or gang raped depending on your point of view.

It was clear she didn't care. She was drunk, and whether it was her idea or someone else's she was drugged.

Varric and Hawke were supposed to be gone to the Deep Roads, but had to turn back. It wasn't exactly suicide, but Isabela had decided to let the world have its way with her. It would have too, if Varric hadn't sent runners to Hawke's estate.

When Hawke arrived Isabela was pretty near passed out drunk and close to be passed around by three guys

Varric walked up when Hawke entered. "I wasn't sure what to do. Just killing the guys won't fix the problem," he said kicking at the dirty floor.

"It's a start." Hawke answered.

She used her fingers and the butt of her sword on the closest guy when she started to move past him.

He said something that sounded a lot like, "Wait your turn." Varric shook his head. That was going to end up making him dead.

Hawke easily gouged out his eyes and dislodged windpipe as she passed. The regulars tried to warn the men. Even gave a description of Hawke in case she showed up. No help was offered. They were warned early on. Isabela was the Champion of Kirkwall's longstanding lover. Anyone dumb enough…well no guard's man or citizen would be dumb enough.

The next three went down fairly easily, and would recover eventually. The last took Hawke by surprise and sheer force.

He came from behind her and kidney punched her already using his blade to cut her belt from behind. He forced her neck down on a table punching his sharp elbow into her neck.

"You may think you can take my boys, but you won't deny me what's mine. I'll get what's coming to me." The thug outweighed her by over twice again her body weight. His mistake was thinking she might be drunk, a target, or have any respect for a life of a man like him.

Hawke snapped her head back and busted his nose fresh blood gushing everywhere. He was stunned and swearing. The sting from a broken nose took even the most skilled and trained warrior a moment to recover. This man was neither. He was just a rapist and bully of women most of his life.

Normally, she would make the killing blow clean and decisive. She didn't even bother with her own blade, she took his from him. It was somewhat dull, as he was lazy and she expected it to be. For the amount of force she needed to use it didn't matter.

She removed his clothing, because she didn't want to accidently miss anything. Knowing full well what he had planned for her and Isabela she didn't think twice when she emasculated him. She threw him towel and let him decide whether or not he would allow himself to bleed out.

Any man found with his privates removed from his body and shoved in his mouth had found the only justice he would ever receive, if he lived.

Even in a tavern like the Hanged Man, that was too much blood and screaming for the local cliental. He was thrown outside. If someone merciful came along they might give him a blade, otherwise they might call a guard's man.

Isabela has moved on to another guy at this point. She's just looking for punishment. Hawke wouldn't treat her like the piece of shit she was. She'd have to find some thug for that.

Hawke pulls Isabela's dagger and shows the young man the handle, he scurries off. The young man recognized Hawke from the man on the floor a few moments ago. He left a piss stain as a scurried off. Isabela took no notice and puked before passing out in Hawke's arms before Hawke took her up stairs. She can't protect her every night forever. She could try to protect her every night in the foreseeable future until, until Isabela stopped being so self-destructive. If that was possible, but Hawke couldn't be around 24/7 and Isabela if she truly sought the punishment she wanted would get her wish. It was Kirkwall after all, the city of chains.

Hawke kisses her gently on the cheek as she laid her down on her bed. Hawke's eyes stung with tears and the back of her throat ached, but she refused to give into emotions right now.

Isabela's clothes were torn and there are scratch marks from dirty fingernails on her skin that were getting infected. Hawke laid her out and undressed her and dutifully cleaned her cleansed her wounds as best she could.

The tears stung, but Isabela couldn't see, so it didn't matter.

The guys weren't the only one abusing Isabela's soft skin. Isabela was covered in dark bruises in varying degrees of healing, some fresh. Cuts are on her arm and inside her thighs made from her own blade. Some were deep. A few are showing signs of infection.

Hawke managed to remain mostly stoic until she was cleaning the weeping self-inflicted wounds inside Isabela's thighs.

These have been covered by her highest boots she's been wearing for weeks that she hasn't taken off in front of Hawke, and from the look of them, even to bathe.

The pain would be a constant reminder, and in it's twisted way a comfort for the hurt that Hawke couldn't bring herself to bear on Isabela.

She knew their child was gone, but it didn't have to be this way.

Passing herself off until she was beaten and raped as often as she could stand, or as often as Hawke could stand. She would punish herself until there was nothing left. She would have done it tonight had Varric not sent a runner.

Isabela took care to make sure none of the regulars would be there. Varric was supposed to be in the Deep Roads and Hawke with him. Only a freak series of events had left them in town for the night. Her pirate queen was too drunk to notice when Varric stepped back into the bar.

He could have stopped it, but where did you stop the killing, where did you even begin it. Isabela intended to do it to herself. It wasn't suicide per se. It was the closest thing to it. She would destroy everything she loved, and make herself unlovable. At least that's what Hawke thought her plan was.

Isabela was too drunk for any form of coherency. She wasn't completely sure, one of the men hadn't given her something else perhaps a root, or potion, or something. Her mind didn't seem quite her own even in her drunken stupor, and Hawke had seen them all. She was pretty far gone from reality. She didn't even know who Hawke was.

"Just get it over with and let me pass out, whoever the fuck you are?" Isabela slurred.

Hawke quite moving about half way across the room to the basin on the way to clean out some of the rags she had used to clean Isabela's wounds.

"If you're too daft to figure this out, just get the fuck out." Isabela was clearly out of her mind. If one of the patrons downstairs had decided to give her a little something extra, as if she needed it, and it hadn't been one of the men she had already taken care of, they would pay a heavy price of taking their own tonic, and being left to their own devices somewhere unsavory.

Isabela threw a dagger at the back of Hawke's head cracking the handle on her skull nearly knocking her out. Hawke's mind had been racing. She had been thinking a million thoughts, and that was not one of them. The dull thud that nearly knocked her out, but it also brought her back to reality.

Even she couldn't stop the reaction of slapping Isabela.

"Like it rough, do you?" Isabela chortled. "Yeah, we could do that too."

Hawke felt shamed that she had slapped her. Too many years of battle. Too many scars. She had just reacted. She had never hit Isabela, outside of play in the bedroom.

Hawke's eye's stung away a tear. She had to get out of there. Hawke managed to blink back her emotions and grab her sword and shield and start for the door. She didn't imagine she would see Isabela on the way there. It was Kirkwall. Even she could walk through the streets unarmed at nights.

In that moment Isabela actually saw Hawke.

She saw Hawke realized she was there, what it meant, and what had happened.

Hawke knew about the men.

Hawke knew about the cutting. Hawke knew everything.

Isabela's staggering drunken act and overture of gaudy sex was taken aback, by the reality of the situation. A reality Isabela hadn't been a part of, and hadn't known had existed. She had just been running on instinct until that moment. Get hurt, maybe get run through, leave this life, and everyone might be the better for it. There hadn't been a Hawke in this life or in her head until this moment.

When there suddenly was, the walls came crashing down. Isabela was destroyed in a whole new way. Not the way she had been seeking, but realizing Hawke had witnessed everything she had been doing, and she didn't know for how long.

Hawke's shield drooped almost to the ground and her blade was loose in her hand.

Both women wished for death and to be outside that room for just an instant, but that wasn't going to happen.

Shame was powerful.

Isabela curled and squatted on the floor, half screeching- half crying. It really didn't much sound like a noise a human could make.

Hawke could have left; Hawke could have gone to her. Instead she stood there dumbly holding her sword and shield, barely holding it.

"I just want to die, Hawke. I never wanted any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted this to turn out this way. I don't know how I could have made it turn out any worse."

"Stop it." Hawke's voice was hushed, but it was all she said. Isabela cried like a wounded animal. The sounds were terrifying. Hawke wanted to make them stop. She didn't care how; she just wanted them to stop.

Isabela came up with a worse idea than any running threw Hawke's head. Isabela was so drunk and fucked up on so many drugs; she was out of her skull at best, and emotionally at her worst. Rock bottom is never a good place to be. She grabbed the end of Hawke's blade and partially impaled herself on it. It would have been overly dramatic if she hadn't been quite so successful. She ran it through to almost her back before Hawke even realized what was going on and blood was spilling out of her mouth. "At least make it fast. You can do me that favor." She willed her weight on it pushing it as far as she could.

Hawke was slow to react. Almost nonresponsive. When she finally did it was not good.

Hawke yanked the blade free, when she probably should have left it in and applied pressure around it. Thinking wasn't on the top of Hawke's list. She broke the door down and yelled for Varric who appear nonplussed. Years of being caked in blood together. She managed to strangle Anders name out for a healer. Varric nodded.

Hawke returned to the room, but Isabela was looking pasty already. She was bleeding out fast. What the fuck had she been thinking? What the fuck had any of them been thinking? Isabela was mostly unconscious and Hawke was rocking what she was afraid soon would be her corpse.

How had things gotten like this? They had gotten pregnant. They were going to have a family. Isabela lost the baby trying to save Hawke, or Hawke and Varric. More blood magic. They actually used their child's blood for the ritual. Hawke had faced the demons that might have been their child, and then the world got weird, and strange, and scarier than it had ever been.

She hadn't been able to be there for Isabela. She hadn't been able to be there for herself. Isabela took is as blame; it wasn't. Isabela rushed headlong into anything that would hurt her or get her killed.

All Hawke probably had to do was to explain, but she couldn't manage to do it. She hadn't managed to form words at all. Isabela was nearly dead by Hawke's own sword and Hawke had managed to do nothing.

She couldn't even cry.

Hawke was too broken to move, much less comfort.

"Maker." Hawke whispered. "Please let her live."

Varric took Hawke and pulled her over to the bed and sat her down. "I don't know if he's taking requests today Hawke, but if he owes anyone in this town, he owes you."

"Hawke." The name came from across the room. It floated across from near where Anders was working. He was working silently for once concentrating.

Isabela held out a bloody hand…Hawke slid off the bed and took it. She held the bloody hand close to her own heart. "Yes."

"What did we do? How did we end up here?" Isabela's breathing was labored. Her pulse was erratic. This wasn't just one incident. This had been years in the making. It wasn't linear. It was past, present, and future. It was something Flemmeth had tried to explain when they were at the Eluvian.

They were out of place and time, even now.

Everything was mixed together, the Red Iron, her sister in the Deep Roads, her mother alive, the Inquisitor, being left behind in the Fade once, Ser Stroud another time, Alistair, and Logain another, yet those were names she hadn't met yet.

Their child was gone, but in one place it hadn't even been conceived yet. There was to be a second child that was conceived with Isabela. It was a bit different than the first, but so were the circumstances.

Hawke knew one thing. Isabela didn't die.

Flemmeth said it.

History wasn't done with Hawke. It needed her. It wasn't going to be kind. There were no fluffy bunnies and ponies, but she needed Isabela. As long as history needed her, Isabela would live.

Time worked in an odd fashion. It seemed like Isabela's heartbeat stopped Anders stopped. Only Hawke could see or move. She went to kiss Isabela, but there was no time, only her, and a laugh in the darkness.

"We really do have to stop meeting like this. People will start to talk." Flemmeth spoke.

"You have to stop this." Hawke said.

"Believe me when I say, I would if I could, but I can't." Flemmeth smirked. "You seemed to have weathered the storm though.

"It's time magic." Hawke turned away form Isabela and stood up to her full height staring at Flemeth.

Her white hair glistening she gave a long slow clap. "Beautifully played. But I have nothing to do with it. I'm just along for the ride. Just like you. History does like you. You realize, of course, your girlfriend should be dead about a dozen times over by the time all this is said and done."

"And your point?" Hawke stewed at what was going on.

"I'm amazed. Your pirate queen knows how to pick a good woman." Flemmeth laughed haughtily.

"I can see the Inquisition. The hole in the Fade. My death on one side, my life on the other."

"It's annoying, but you get used to it." At least you only have one lifetime. You can see so many possibilities, but only one path shall you walk in your life. Only one set of choices will you make." Flemmeth laughed. "My money is on the girlfriend. She's got potential to comeback every time."

"Will this ever stop?" Hawke asked.

"This?" Flemmeth looked around. "The time rifts? " She picked up a peach of questionable origin off the table and bit into it. "Yes. They will stop or tear Thedas apart. My bet is on the former." You're near the epicenter of one. It will go away." The random choice the Inquisitor makes between you and the Grey Warden…it just that…random…it is as random as the Inquisitor…dwarf, elf, Quanari, male, female, it's whatever is rolled at the exact moment.

"Just like not all the Hawkes are alike. I prefer this one. I like the funny, banter, witty one. There is a version of you that ends up with Merrill, BTW. "

"Merrill?" Hawke scoffs.

"I know it's hard to believe, but there are versions of you who are a sucker for the big eyes. There are even versions of you that are straight." Flemmeth looks at her mocking a gasp.

"Stop it." Hawke says.

"Fenris seems to be pretty fun, but what you see in that Anders."

"I do have to eat again, in this lifetime, you know." It's not going to stop for you Hawke, but know this, after the Inquisition, at least it gets better, and you might get the joys of being a parent, yet. Look at the wonders it did me…by the way, I wouldn't assume through magical conception that Isabela would be the only one who could carry a baby to term."

"Please, stop right there."

"Yes, it is too soon." Flemmeth said. "I am off again. I hope to not see you again too soon, if I'm lucky and your lucky ever again in this lifetime Hawke. Go to her. Your pirate queen will live."

Flemmeth always one for an exit dashed on a hint of roguish smoke and Hawke retuned to Isabela's side taking Isabela's hand in her own. Isabela weakly held on with her hand until she passed out from pain.

Isabela's labored breathing settled down as she passed out and regained a little color.

Anders started to speak, but Hawke waved him off and she lifted Isabela onto the bed across the room.

Varric took his cue and he ushered Blondie out the door and left Isabela and Hawke alone in the room.

Hawke was pretty sure Isabela would remember very little of what happened. Hawke opened a shoulder and Isabela snuggled in unaware of most of the past few weeks. It was a dull stabbing pain, nothing more.

Unfortunately for Hawke, she remembered every minute detail of everything now. The good and the bad: even how happy Isabela had been.

How Isabela had come with the others when Hawke and Varric had been captured for a simple ransom. The idiot mage who had tried blood magic to turn the tides when Hawkes people easily cut a swath through the would-be kidnappers.

He had slashed blindly and caught Isabela in the gut. Fetal blood: a premium in blood magic. It was one hell of a demon, Hawke's own personal child/demon. It hadn't been pretty. It had killed it's master instantly and all the other ransomers. It thought Hawke might let it live.

It had taken an appearance that looked quite like hers. It had been powerful, artful, deadly, and had nearly taken Isabela with it when it died.

The ending result had been Isabela at the tavern weeks later and Hawke paying a visit tonight. Everyone had been shaken to the core by that one.

Terminating the pregnancy and demon at the same time had all but destroyed Hawke and Isabela for different reasons. The loss was different. The baby would have been viable, outside the womb.

Time magic seemed a relief.

Isabela stirred next to Hawke. This Isabela knew who Hawke was, but thankfully didn't seem to have the memories of last night.

"What happened?" Isabela seemed truly confused.

"Something bad. It's Kirkwall. We all live to fight another day." She would mention to Varric and Anders to say nothing. Sometimes it was best not to remember the nightmares. Hawke had enough for them both.

Isabela looked at the bandages covering her wounds. I've been gutted like a fish.

"Be glad you're not a fish. They may not have tried to throw you back." Hawke smiled.

"Ass." Isabela shoved her and immediately wished she hadn't. "Holy crap."

"More like holy Macarole." Hawke couldn't help but giggle.

"That's it. Get out of here…Ow" She swore under her breath.

"When you're strong enough to throw me out; I'll leave. Until then, I promise to nurse you back to health, against your will of course."

"I can't tell if it sounds awful or feels worse." Isabela swore at her bandaged stomach and Hawke offered her a health potion. "Better." She muttered.

"What the hell happened to my head? This doesn't feel like drink." Isabela started.

"Also don't let strange men poison you. It's bad for the metabolism." Hawke smirked.

"I suppose you are my knight in shining armor." Isabela grumbled. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to tell you I don't deserve you, or some crap like that?"

"Probably."

"Ugh. You're encouragable." She shoved at Hawke and missed throwing herself across Hawke's body instead.

"I could make this work. Been looking throw the dictionary, again?" Hawke said wrapping her arms around her. Glad that with her memory gone, she had the illusion of being able to keep her safe.

"Let's see if we can find a way to get you transport across town to my estate." Hawke said.

"I'm a shit. I'm going to lay here and die in the Hanged Man as all shits do." Isabela muttered. She snuggled herself over Hawke's body.

Then we die by my cooking or the Hanged Man's…or we can have Bodan's cooking.

"Right. I'll work on that. Maker, I think I'm going to die." Isabela whimpered into Hawke's chest.

It was only three weeks ago Isabela had said the same thing under very different circumstances.

"Not today, my love. Not today."

It was only three weeks ago Isabela managed to look radiant even after puking for ten minutes straight.

Inside Hawke's Estate the sun was moving into the late morning. Isabela staggered her way out of the privy and collapsed across Hawke's bed.

"I think I'm going to die."

Hawke was trying out a new greave made of dragon bone with new two-handed hilt. Hawke wasn't one to preen in the mirror but Isabela was watching Hawke go through different stances watching her maneuver a favorite blade in her hand.

Isabela mindfully chomped on fresh mint Bodan had brought in from the garden. It was soothing and quite tasty. Not quite as tasty as watching Hawke who was quite consumed in the way the hilt was moving in the greave and the balance of the weapon was changing with the new hilt.

Unlike Hawke's regular performance in battle she was wearing only a light shirt and halter, greaves and small clothes. Isabela was enjoying the full performance of Hawkes muscles.

If Hawke had noticed she might have been annoyed or even embarrassed. Isabela was hungrily drinking in the sight. Hawke had worked up quite a sweat even without full gear. She always put everything into her performance, something Isabela always enjoyed.

Hawke was working the blade on either side of her body trying to get a feel for the new balance and seeing if she really felt she could commit to a set of new armor. Sure it looked fantastic, but the real trick was the performance.

Isabela was all about the performance. When Hawke timed out one of her signature stabilizing moves Isabela knew she would hold it for 15 seconds, she always did.

Hawke's short hair was drenched with sweat, but Isabela didn't mind. She moved up behind her sliding her body behind Hawke's. Pushing her face next to Hawke's looking at her in the mirror.

Hawke had been thinking about anything but sex; however, that was before Isabela moved her hands from behind Hawke down her abs pushing past her small clothes.

"Haven't you ever wanted to watch the performance I get every time? It is an awfully nice mirror. Think you can hold that pose?" Isabela without a moment's hesitation slipped from behind between Hawke's legs and cut off her small clothes with a handy dagger

"Isabela." Hawke was clearly taken by surprise, but too intrigued to move. Scratch that, too turned on to move.

"Yes" Isabela purred back. "Why don't you hold that pose? It'll give you something to do while I enjoy my work. I have always loved to watch your abs get a good workout, but a good work out during an orgasm, what could be better?"

Hawke obliged keeping the heavy weapon perfectly still as Isabela flicked her tongue across her clit. Hawke moaned and she could feel a rush of wetness practically pour down on Isabela.

"Tasty, but Hawke, I'd really like it if you'd enjoy the show. I mean the mirror is right there. Think you can manage to enjoy watching me work for a change?" Hawke finally let her gaze drop to Isabela's tongue, and she was putting on quite a show for Hawke. The demonstration didn't need to be so elaborate to be felt, but if did look amazing watching Isabela's tongue dance across her in the most intimate way a woman could taste and touch another woman.

Isabela got a little extra surprise she wanted, a tremor from a Hawke. Just the slightest tremor from her leg and her abs. Yes, she was wet and excited, but to have her on the verge of losing control.

"No touching." Isabela teased. Just keep your hands where I can see them. Positioned on the sword Hawke was having a slight trouble concentrating. The pull from her core and her overriding need to touch Isabela made it more than a bit difficult to hold this position. Isabela was enjoying every moment of it.

"It's harder than it looks, huh? Only because you are you Hawke. Trust me, most people would have no trouble just being serviced, but you, you want to touch and kiss and reciprocate. It's practically killing you.

"I could keep you like this all day. It could be a really fun day."

"Please." Hawke spat. She was shaking with effort, and Isabela was doing having a hard time not letting her lover come. It was just too much fun to tease her. By the Maker she was hot. Still she did ask nicely.

"Well…you did ask so sweetly." Isabela lapped noisily at Hawke's clit, which would be enough to send her over the edge on her own, Hawke was sensitive to anything when she didn't have anything to distract her, say anything to do to Isabela's body. Still, Isabela reached inside her slowly pushing a steady pace at her g spot why lapping at her clit increasing the pressure ever so slightly.

Hawke roared in response to all the stimulation and felt like she was coming from every possible direction. Isabela let her ridge through her clitoral orgasm and finally ditch the sword for the comfort of the back of her head and kept keeping pace with the deeper orgasm she knew she could get from her g-spot if she wasn't wound too tight, and even if she was she might trust her enough to ride through a few.

Hawke just let herself come in sheet after sheet of unexpected orgasm, finishing on the bed somehow with Isabela on top of her walls gripping rhythmically at Isabela. Hawke was spent in a boneless heap.

Isabela didn't really know which of the two of them was the more pleased.

As Hawke's body gave way to the last rack of orgasmic twitch she fell backwards against the bed dragging the Rivani pirate on top of her.

Isabela loved it when Hawke just wanted to feel her and just be with her. Hawke would be sated for sometime. Isabela couldn't have been happier. She didn't know what family was. In reality, she had never really been part of one as far as she was concerned, but if being in one meant being with Hawke, it was a hell of a way to start.

***
Hawke mind was reeling and mostly trying to forget the events of the last 24 hours. These attempts never works and only stained her memory with perfect recall.

At least Isabela seemed robbed of her memory. Hawke couldn't say she wasn't grateful that the nightmare was mostly gone. She'd have to tell Varric and the boys, though she noticed even they would forget things from time to time. Varric seemed the least effected, but everyone was being effected by something.

The events had been horrible, and she decided she didn't care if she was the only one that bore the brunt of them. Usually it was her and another. She would remember and Varric, or she and Aveline, but Merrill would have no idea what she was talking about even if she had been in the thickest of the firefights with them.

Hawke didn't know what it meant. She knew things like this always came back to bite her in the ass, but for now, she was happy that Isabela seemed to remember little.

Isabela trustingly snuggled onto Hawke's chest. She was sure it couldn't have been that comfortable because Hawke hadn't fully disrobed, but after the last few weeks it might have felt like paradise for all she knew.

The Rivani didn't even have a crease in her brow. She seemed perfectly at peace. Hawke been through enough of Isabela's nightmare's of childhood rapes, beatings, and general misfortunes to know that a good night's sleep was a rarity to be enjoyed.

Dueling had helped, but at night, every weakness you ever had plagued you. Over the years Isabela's nightmares had subsided until…the last three weeks had been bad.

If they were forgotten for some reason…

Isabela nuzzled in and Hawke gave in to fatigue and collapse. As luck would have it, Hawke fell into a dreamless sleep, which was the best she had learned to hope for.