Hope you are all enjoying Inquisition. Bit disappointed there's no Isabela (not that I've seen anyway) :( However I think the game's great. I've got some Leliana stories planned for it already but they won't be done for a while. Here's my latest chapter however. Very close to the end now with this one but I am considering a third sequel story in the Lana Hawke saga based on Inquisition if the idea generates enough interest. I'm finding it hard to let this pairing go now that I'm almost finished. Reviews welcome as always. Thanks to those of you who have already. Enjoy!
Isabela woke one morning to the smell of burning bacon and stretched, crawling out of her bed roll and exiting her tent, feeling rather fresh from the first decent night's sleep she'd had in months. She could have sworn she heard Hawke and Varric up late last night (drinking no doubt) and was tempted to go out and join them, but her body just couldn't keep up the pace any longer after the long trip from Gwaren's port and the gruelling emotional toll the entire quest had taken on her. Were they comparing their breasts? she wondered, smiling to herself. That wouldn't surprise me. As Isabela adjusted her eyes to the morning light outside, the smell of burning bacon got stronger and suddenly became rather foul. She wrinkled her nose. Andraste's Holy knickers! The pirate walked over to the fire, expecting to see someone cooking beside it (perhaps Alistair?) but there was no one in sight...At least initially. As she neared, she realised the smell was coming from a burning boot that was lying almost in the middle of the campfire. It was on the end of Varric's foot.
"Varric!" Isabela yelled, kicking him to wake him up. "Varric, wake up! You're on fire!"
The dwarf instantly came round, feeling rather toasty and warm all of a sudden and began to pat down his leg frantically, shaking it around like a madman.
"ARGHH! SHIT!"
Isabela doubled over with laughter as she watched him put out the fire, seeing the burn holes in his good leather and holding her nose at the stench. Varric looked severely dishevelled and hung-over. He sighed in self-pity. Clearly he and Lana had had a few too many drinks last night after Isabela had retired for bed. They were almost at Denerim but neither of them could wait (apparently) so they detoured to a merchant on the way and bought a few dusty bottles of Orzammar Firewhiskey. Isabela, who'd had enough experience with Dwarven spirits to last a lifetime, decided to sit this one out. Thank The Maker, she thought smugly, empathising with the look of pain on Varric's face as he collapsed onto the nearest log and massaged his forehead.
"Andraste's tits, that was close!" he exclaimed, chuckling along with the pirate now that the immediate danger had passed. He rubbed his forehead some more and got to his feet, testing out his damaged boot.
"I thought someone was trying to cook breakfast," Isabela joked, giggling, "Maker, how much did you and Hawke have to drink last night?"
"Too much," Varric replied with a laugh, feeling the effects of his hangover hit him after the alarming wake up call. "Where is Hawke actually?"
"Um...She's over here," Bethany interrupted from behind them, sounding like she was trying not to laugh. Isabela and Varric both stared at each other then bolted over between the semi-collapsed tents where Bethany was standing. Hawke was lying sprawled eagled in the middle of them in mismatched clothes, blotches of ink on her face, completely out for the count. The only sound was of her loud snores mixed with an occasional drunken babble and snort. The other three looked at each other then burst out laughing. Isabela was almost in tears before she could speak.
"I'll get her," she warned Bethany, before the youngest Hawke leaned down to wake her elder sibling, "She can be pretty cranky when she's hungover. Best let an expert handle it."
Bethany giggled. "You're right. All yours, Bela...Maker, help you."
The Rivaini laughed, "Hey, you're related to her, not me."
"Yes, but you chose her, I'm stuck with her," Bethany countered, sniggering. She heard Isabela laugh as she leaned down between the tents to rouse her sleeping beauty.
"Hawke?" she said, gently shaking her awake. She didn't move. "HAWKE!" Isabela nudged her with her foot.
"S'matter?" Hawke moaned in a childlike manner, blindly beating away Isabela with weak swatting movements. She groaned. "Do whatever you want to me Bela...s'long as it doesn't wake me..."
Isabela laughed silently as Bethany cleared her throat loudly, her face turning bright red. Lana whined sleepily then turned over, pulling the collapsed tent around her like a blanket and looking as though she was embedding herself in for another slumber. Isabela rolled her eyes and decided to take pity on her now that she was done laughing.
"Come on, Sweetness," she said, pulling the dilapidated tent off Hawke and (despite her protests) sliding her hands under Lana's arms, heaving her into a standing position.
"Go awayyyy," Hawke complained, waving a drunken arm. Isabela dodged it and then wrapped it around her neck, leading the inebriated, half-sleeping woman over to the log around the fire, Varric and Bethany following, trying to stifle their continued giggles. Alistair was in the middle of preparing a pot of rabbit stew. Seeing Hawke being lowered into a seating position he started to laugh.
"Rough night?"
Hawke gave him a bloodshot stare, having still not woken up properly yet. Isabela laughed and grabbed a nearby blanket, throwing it over both her and ink-stained Lana and holding her close, feeling her shiver in the light, early morning breeze. Hawke lay her head on Isabela's shoulder and closed her eyes, receiving a kissing from the pirate in return. Being held like this under a warm fur blanket was much more comfortable than sleeping on the cold, hard ground.
"Leave her be, Boy King, she's earned it," Varric said as he and Bethany joined them around the fire, "We both have, now that I think about it. Next time I end up in The Fade do me a favour and don't wake me from my nightmare. It might be more kind leaving me in bed with Bi..."
The dwarf's voice trailed off.
"With who?" Isabela asked curiously, a wicked grin on her face.
"The beloved crossbow of course," Bethany interjected. As she and Alistair chuckled, Varric avoided all their eyes, remembering back to his so-called 'nightmare' during their most recent stint in The Fade. He hadn't spoken of it to any of them and had no desire to. They all suspected Bianca as his lover but, as he had told them many a time: Bianca was the only story he would never tell.
As Alistair continued cooking and the others chattered happily, Isabela turned her attentions back to Hawke who was drooling on her shoulder a little. She shimmied the woman's head up, feeling it fall slightly and Lana opened her eyes again, seeing Isabela's amber ones watch her closely. The pirate stroked her cheek.
"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, privately so as the others couldn't overhear.
"Regretful," Hawke joked, "I wish I'd gone to bed with you when I had the chance. I never could keep up with Varric."
Isabela chuckled quietly. "How did you get ink on your face?" she asked amused.
Hawke gave a weak smile. "Think Varric tried to write a story on me with his quill...We both fell over and the bottle spilt...I have no idea how it got in my hair though."
Sure enough, lying beside the fire was an empty ink bottle and three broken quills. Isabela fought to restrain her continuous laughter, seeing Lana was looking rather queasy still. Her eyes closed once more and she snuggled into Isabela's neck again, breathing in her gorgeous scent.
"I'll take care of you," the pirate said, placing another kiss on Lana's dark brown hair.
"I think I need a bath," Hawke mumbled, feeling the pirate gently untangled the inky knots on the ends of her hair. "Do you think I need a bath?"
Isabela rolled her eyes, hearing Hawke repeat her own words to her. "You do," she admitted. "You can't go in front of the Landsmeet like this. The nobles would have you hung, drawn and quartered for assaulting their eyes...and their nostrils."
Lana opened her own eyes then, sobering up a little at the thought. "I thought we'd spoken about this," she reminded Isabela. "I'm not doing it. I don't want to be tied to one place, especially not in politics. We're not those kind of people, Bela. That's what happened in Kirkwall... and in the end I tore the entire city apart with my antics."
"Hey!" Isabela scolded, tilting Lana's head up sharply, a fierce passion burning in her eyes. The others looked over, hearing her voice raise a little. She waited until they had gone back to their conversation, then continued in a hushed whisper, staring deep into Hawke's meltingly brown irises. "Don't you dare blame yourself for that mess, Hawke. You did nothing of the sort. Didn't you run all over trying to make sure that didn't happen, letting Templars and Mages use to do their dirty work? It was that bastard Anders who tipped things over the edge with Justice, Meredith and Orsino, not you. Do you hear me?"
"I...Yes, I know all that," Hawke replied weakly, having said something of the sort to Isabela when she blamed herself for the whole Qunari mess that had preceded it. "But come on, Bela. I wasn't entirely innocent...Alistair's just trying to do me a favour with this whole Landsmeet thing. With the Chantry looking for me, should I really make it that easy for them? How much power does he have over them?"
The pirate sighed, remembering back to their conversation on the Qunari Dreadnought when they had discussed Alistair's proposal.
"I don't know, Sweetness...And I know what you said, but...Balls, this is a conversation for another time. Let's talk once we get to Denerim, ok?"
Hawke exhaled, almost with relief. "Ok," she said in her child-like tone once more. She rested her head down on Isabela's shoulder again and closed her eyes, feeling the pirate pull her close, and melting into her embrace.
After breakfast, Isabela and Hawke bid the others goodbye and walked into the nearby forest, following the river to a small plunge pool beneath a gently trickling waterfall. The pirate undressed then helped a still slightly hungover Hawke out of her dirty clothes and they both climbed into the water together, shivering from the instant chills and quickly drawing nearer to each other for heat. Isabela stared into Hawke's chocolate-brown eyes, smiling, then reached up and tucked a strand of the woman's wet hair behind her ear, tracing the ink stains on her face with her thumb. She chuckled.
"I can see a few words from Varric's Hard in Hightown story," the pirate said, amused. Hawke laughed.
"I don't know where this idea came from to use me as a piece of vellum but I'm severely regretting it now, believe me."
"Having your story written on the Champion of Kirkwall's face is a great promoting technique. Varric's the best businessman I know," Isabela said.
They both laughed. She has a point, Hawke thought to herself. There was a black ring in the water around her where the less stubborn ink had already washed off due to the gentle ripples of the pool. Isabela ran her hands through the matted ends of Hawke's hair, trying to separate it.
"Balls, this could take a while unfortunately...Also, should I even ask how you managed to flatten the tents and pass out on them?" she giggled.
"To the Void if I know," Hawke sighed, leaning her head against Isabela's, tracing her hips under the water with her hands. "My shoulder's killing me though... Argh, I think I cracked it on a rock when I fell."
"Here," Isabela said caringly, swimming around behind her. She followed directions from Hawke to the outline of her right shoulder-blade and began kneading it gently with her hands, seeing a few bruises having formed already. Hawke seemed to have a new bruise everyday that she had known her. Lana grimaced, feeling the pirate ease out the kinks.
"Ow," she groaned weakly, hearing a few bone cracks. She heard Isabela laugh quietly in her ear and felt the Rivaini's lips graze her neck, distracting her from her aches and pains. After several minutes she felt much better.
"Move closer to the waterfall and I'll wash your hair," Isabela said then, cupping her hips and manoeuvring her in the right direction. Hawke tiptoed carefully through the pool and leaned her head under the trickling water then jumped in shock.
"Maker, it's freezing!"
Isabela laughed, seeing Lana's every nerve instantly tense up, making her look very cute and small all of a sudden, with her hair flattened down over her ears. Unable to resist, the pirate laughed wickedly and dragged her under the waterfall with her, claiming the attention of Lana's lips before she could protest and silencing her gasp of shock. Before they knew it they were kissing passionately, out of breath due to both the coldness of the water and the desire rising within, their wet naked bodies pressed together.
Hawke rested her arms around Isabela's shoulders, wrestling against the woman's adventurous tongue with her own. She felt her knees go weak as Isabela's fingers found their way up the inside of her thighs under the water and rested between her loins, rubbing against her womanhood and coercing a few moans of pleasure from her. Hawke broke from their kiss and threw her head back as Isabela's adventurous fingers slipped over her threshold. She closed her eyes, feeling the waterfall beat gently off her face, driven wild by the Rivaini's experienced tongue as the woman tasted the skin along her neck and collarbone, sucking gently, feeling her lover's chest heave uncontrollably in her arms as she lost herself in the deep pleasure of the moment.
Hawke ran her hands down the Rivaini's back then, clenching Isabela's infamous booty and making the pirate chuckle. Isabela could see she was driving her insane with passion and had no intentions of stopping to let her catch her breath. She cared not for the loud cries of ecstasy that Hawke couldn't hold back, knowing this was as alone as they were ever going to be and purposely intending on making Lana sing herself hoarse. The pirate lowered her head, leaving a trail of kisses along her love's chest, burying her face between Hawke's perfect breasts, caressing them with her free hand. After receiving several more gasps from Lana, Isabela took a deep breath and slipped her head under the water, taking Hawke by complete surprise when she felt the pirate's mouth around her pulsing arousal.
"Bela!" Hawke gasped erotically, looking down. "Oh...Maker..."
She caressed the pirate's hair under the water, overcome by her spiralling orgasm. After a minute or so Isabela's head finally resurfaced and she pulled Lana towards her just as the woman looked like she was about to keel over and slip under the water herself. Hawke collapsed across Isabela's shoulders, still lost in a passionate trance. She grazed the pirate's jaw playfully with her teeth, making her chuckle.
"That good was it?" Isabela teased, trying to catch her own breath. Lana raised her head, lips hovering an inch from Isabela's. She stared deep into the woman's glowing amber eyes, running her hands across the woman's tan skin then resting her fingers along the nape of Isabela's neck. They were both out of breath still.
"Un...believable," Hawke exhaled, teasing the Rivaini's mouth with a few kisses of her own. Isabela dragged her teeth along whichever of Lana's lips she came into contact with, hearing her give a cheeky giggle. They toyed with each other for the next few minutes, enjoying the gentle waves in the cool water brushing up against them as they stood in each other's embrace, savouring an intimate moment that both had been deprived of for way too long.
"You know ,you owe me when we get to Denerim," Isabela teased, as Hawke directed her away from the waterfall and pressed her back against the edge of the plunge pool, pinning her on the rocks with a hand on either side of her waist. Their breasts grazed together as Hawke leaned in for another kiss.
"Is that so?" she asked, biting her own lip seductively and glancing down at Isabela's hungrily. "And...just what would you have me do?"
Isabela grinned wickedly and stole another playful, lick of Lana's lips before responding.
"Hmm," she began, feeling her nose brush against Hawke's, "You remember what we found in the Templar party in Kirkwall a few years back?"
"When we were disguised as whores?" Hawke asked, casting her thoughts back. That day was still a little hazy since her torture at the hands of Meredith. Suddenly she remembered hanging from a chain in a make-shift sex-dungeon after she and Isabela had been messing around with certain sexual artefacts and were unable to find a key. The grin spread across Isabela's face in that moment, as Lana's eyes widened at the memory.
"Really?" she asked, sounding rather reluctant. "I'm not adverse to a little bondage but...the other thing kind of...scares me a little."
"Aww," Isabela crooned mockingly, pretending to feel sorry for her. Hawke rolled her eyes and snorted.
"Oh come on, Bela," she said pleadingly, knowing the pirate was taking the piss, "I've never used one of those before. You know I haven't."
"Never?" the pirate asked, surprised.
"No!" Hawke replied, giggling, "I gave up anything that resembled male genitalia... lest you conveniently forget when it suits you."
They both laughed.
"I'm not asking to use it on you," Isabela said cheekily, "...I want you to use it on me, Sweetness."
Hawke's eyes widened (if possible) even further. The look of impish mischief on Isabela's face made her rather excited all of a sudden though. She bit her lip once more, caressing the pirate's curves with her hands, then leaned in, placing a slow, deeply tender kiss on her before answering. She moved her lips to Isabela's ear.
"I'll think about it..." she whispered. Isabela's jaw dropped.
"You-Oh, you... tease!"
The pirate groaned with impatience and anticipation, and lay her head back on the grassy bank, allowing Lana free reign to kiss wherever she wanted. Needing no further encouragement, Hawke tickled the pirate's nipples with her tongue before going down on her completely and repaying Isabela in kind for the multiple orgasms she had dished out just a few minutes before.
The carriage to Denerim took a few days, but soon King Alistair had finally returned to his throne (and wife) and paid his dues to the eager, smiling faces of Isabela, Varric and Hawke. Lana gave Bethany a cut of her riches for her help and all five of them retired to their rooms to sleep off the tiring journey before dinner in the Great Hall with the nobles of the Landsmeet, who were all eager to meet the ever-elusive and infamous Champion of Kirkwall.
"...don't want to have this discussion again," Hawke was saying. She reached over and put more Antivan massage oil on her hands, then continued rubbing it on Isabela's bare back, across her smooth and silky tan skin. The pirate was lying face down on their elegant four-poster bed with Hawke sitting on her bottom, giving her a much needed pampering. She had accumulated quite few more scars to her collection during the last quest, both mental and physical.
"I know, Sweetness, but you're going to have to make a decision tonight," the Rivaini said tiredly, closing her eyes and enjoying the long, slow touch of Hawke's hands along her spine.
"Anora would never stand for it. She hates me...I'll wager Alistair hasn't even told her yet, the big coward."
Isabela chuckled. "I'll take that bet...I wouldn't worry about Anora though. You have had plenty of practice charming nobles in Kirkwall."
"Bela, the nobles in Kirkwall hated me. They thought I was a dirty, murdering whore just playing with riches and fondling women's unmentionables in my spare time."
"Well...you were," Isabela joked. Hawke slapped her back, feeling her shake with laughter underneath her.
"Be serious, Isabela. I'm not Landsmeet material and I never wanted to be...And what would that mean for us, staying here? Do you think you could do that? Stay in one place and give up raiding forever?"
Isabela sighed. "No, probably not," she admitted, regretting not being able to give her love a different answer. They were both tired of living life on the run, but it was the life they had been given and there was nothing they could do to change that. "You were right when you said that we're not the sort of people to be tied down, Sweetness...But it doesn't have to be permanent. We spent a few consistent years in Kirkwall together here and there. Maybe this can just be another temporary stay before we head off again. I definitely need to decorate that Qunari Dreadnought before I go anywhere though. Those bastards wouldn't know a good ship if it sailed up their arse and out their mouth."
Hawke paused, picturing that mental image for her own amusement. Then she continued. "So...You think you'll leave Ferelden again soon?" she asked, unable to hide the pang of sadness in her voice.
"Not soon, but eventually...and you will too, Hawke. It's only a matter of time before the Chantry catches up and forces you to go into hiding to escape them dragging you back into this Mate-Templar war again...I'm not sure I could do that with you."
Hawke stopped massaging her then and rolled off, onto the bed, exhaling loudly. Isabela turned around and sat up, leaning on her elbow, laying her other arm across Hawke's abdomen.
"I wouldn't expect you to," Lana said finally, resting her arms across her forehead and staring up at the white ceiling above. "It would make you miserable and I could never do that to you."
"Hawke..." Isabela breathed, caressing her, "I'd be with you. That would be more than enough to make me happy...but it would be too dangerous. Mages and Templars are still bloody fighting over...a load of bollocks...again...Maker knows what else Thedas is going to throw at us! When that time comes we'll have to part ways...You've always known this...Seperateley we have a long chance of survival...Together, we're pretty much doomed."
"I...You're right," Lana relented, "So... does this mean we have an expiration date?"
Isabela leaned down and kissed her. "Not at all," she whispered sincerely, stroking Lana's chin with her finger and staring down into her worried eyes, giving her a little reassuring smile. "It just means sometimes we might have to go our separate ways. We both lead very complicated lives, Hawke...This was never going to be easy no matter how many times we'd romanced with the idea of settling down."
Lana laughed at the notion. "Do you think we'll ever do it?" she asked, amused. Isabela chuckled.
"I'd like to think so...and for the foreseeable future it'll just be the two of us, so technically we kind of have settled down for the time being...Well, if you consider staying here in Ferelden for a while. If not in the Landsmeet, then Lothering, of the tavern, or..."
"Buy over The Pearl and run a brothel together?" Hawke teased. Isabela's crooked smile suddenly became more mischievous.
"I like the way you think, Sweet Thing!"
Both of them laughed.
Suddenly the door to their bed chamber knocked loudly.
"Just a second!" Hawke shouted, as Isabela scrambled for her shirt to cover her nakedness. She caught the Antivan massage oil before it could roll off the bed then tossed it to Hawke who shoved it in the top drawer of her bedside cabinet. "Come in!"
The door cracked open and Queen Anora walked inside, staring at Isabela and Hawke who were standing on either side of their bed, looking rather suspicious, both of them slightly out of breath.
"Your Majesty," Hawke began, bowing her head courteously. Isabela stood resolutely straight, defiant, a feat which seemed to annoy Anora a little. "Have a seat. How can we help you?"
The three of them settled in the settees in front of the blazing fire.
"I'm just calling on you to let you know that dinner will be served in an hour's time," the Queen said kindly, "Proper attire should be worn" (she gave Isabela's dishevelled white shirt a nasty glare) "And if you need anything while you are staying please let me know. I'm very pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Serah Hawke. You are of Ferelden originally, are you not?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. I was raised in Lothering. I haven't lived there for quite some time though."
"I understand your younger sister, Bethany, is back living there," Anora continued, "I will make sure she is safe, you have my word. You did a great thing by helping my husband...and also did a great service to the memory of King Maric and the Therein family as a whole. The history tomes were rewritten, retelling King Maric's exploits in Tevinter. It is a shame that he did not make it in the end."
"How's Alistair doing?" Hawke asked, concerned. "He was quite overwhelmed by the ordeal."
"He still is," Anora said sadly, "However he is a strong man. I'm sure he will be fine. It was a huge help in pacifying his mind over thoughts of his estranged father. We are both in your debt."
"Actually it was mainly Isabela," Hawke corrected, smiling at her love, "We couldn't have done this quest without her."
Isabela smiled at Lana then reached one and took her hand. Anora cleared her throat awkwardly then got to her feet. Clearly she had a hard time approving of their relationship.
"Regardless, thank you both for you services. I hope you enjoy yourselves tonight. Our servants make excellent cuisine. I even got some imported cheeses from Orlais," Anora continued, breezing over the awkward silence. "I will speak with you later. Good evening, Serahs."
"Good evening, Your Majesty," Hawke replied jumping to her feet once more. The Queen threw them one last smile then exited the bedroom, closing the door tightly behind her. As soon as she did Isabela put on her snootiest expression and turned to Hawke.
"Oooo 'I even got some imported cheeses from Orlais!'" she said, imitating Anora in a high-pitched voice, "'I have a giant silver spoon wedged right up my keister! My husband died so I bang his brother! Tonight's ball will be proper attire'...Balls, in other words, Isabela, please don't walk in smelling of Antiva and shaking your half-naked booty at the dinner table."
"Oh, come on, she was just being nice," Hawke replied, chuckling. Isabela rolled her eyes.
"To you maybe, oh gracious Champion of Kirkwall. I think she'd wipe your ass if you let her. Me, on the other hand? My mere existence seems to piss her off."
"Well, don't you like pissing people off?" Hawke joked, "I thought you'd be pleased."
Isabela considered this. "Oh...alright. I'll give you that one. I can still see this dinner far enough though. The conversation is going to be just sterling. I can see it now...'Why, whatever do you work as, Lady Isabela?'...'Oh I steal and kill for a living, Lady La Di Da. I've probably robbed you twice already in the past year'...'Ugh, one can never get blood stains off their clothes! And stealing is such a filthy habit, Lady Isabela! You should be ashamed of yourself!'...BOOM! Knife-fight, right there in the middle of the fancy, smelly cheese dishes with precious silverware and golden platters flying everywhere and screaming nobles shitting themselves, screaming to get away from the pant-less pirate whore brandishing a swashbuckler's sword and wit in equal measure."
Hawke burst out laughing and lunged, tackling Isabela playfully, both of them landing on the settee behind her. She lay across her on the chair and gave the pirate a sweet kiss on the lips.
"You're insane, you know that?" Hawke muttered, smiling. Isabela chuckled.
"Better than anyone," she admitted. "Would you have me any other way though?"
"I think I've had you every way possible," Hawke joked. Isabela sniggered.
"Well, not yet...but when I stole that Antivan massage oil from Anora's bedside cabinet earlier, I spotted a familiar artefact," the pirate said wickedly. "Alistair's got some competition it seems."
Lana's eyes widened.
"You stole that oil from the bastarding Queen of Ferelden!?" she gasped in disbelief. Isabela giggled and nodded.
"It's what I do, Hawke...And I'm going back for the other thing later," she warned, her eyes flashing seductively. Her grin widened. "Listen, the plan in my head is just glorious! We do Alistair a favour by stealing Anora's 'pet' leading him to get laid for the first time in decades, meanwhile Varric petitions the nobles to claim ownership of The Pearl for us, Bethany finds a young noble to entertain herself for the night... and you and I have the best sex of our lives in our finest eveningwear right there in the Great Hall on top of the table full of Orlesian delicacies...Ah, I can see it now. Glorious! Maker, you know what, Hawke? I'm starting to think this dinner party might actually not be so bad after all."