Bethany's footfalls were heavy as they carried her up the steps to Hightown, her fingers tingling with the power that she'd had to unleash. The Hanged Man was still strewn with Tevinter corpses, including the half-shattered body of Danarius, the magister lord who'd come at long last to lay claim to Fenris. He'd brought a small army and a few apprentices with him for the task, along with Fenris' long-lost sister, Varania. While the elven woman had led her brother into the trap, she hadn't participated in the fighting directly, which helped Bethany to counsel Fenris against killing her .

But Bethany was exhausted; she and her mabari had stood with Fenris and Varric against the Tevinter cohort, which had left it up to her to counter the enemies' magical attacks and return a few of her own. It was only now that she was almost to her estate that Bethany grew suspicious at Isabela's absence from the tavern. In fact, it had been Bethany's hope to find the wayward pirate there when she'd agreed to escort Fenris in the first place. She knew that Isabela could take care of herself again, though...or she hoped so, at least. In any case, as Bethany entered the mansion that had become her home, she looked forward to falling into the bed in her windowless room and sleeping for a day and a half, possibly even in her bloodstained armour.

Despite her best intentions, Bethany stopped short at the threshold of the estate's sitting room doorway, her eyes fixing on the curved back of the very pirate she'd been concerned about a few moments before. The mage's breath caught in her throat as she watched Isabela, bent over the long writing desk, no doubt scribbling a crude limerick or a dirty sketch-Bethany had found more than a few sheafs of fine vellum put to such use in the last few months-and she couldn't help the grin that spread over her face, mirroring the tingling warmth that coiled deep within her chest at the sight of the other woman. Bethany took a step forward, intent on sneaking up behind the Rivaini rogue and testing her reflexes, but her dog's happy bark robbed her of the surprise, and the mage had to work to school her expression before Isabela whirled around.

The pirate's own face spasmed for just an instant, but her lips settled into a self-satisfied smirk, familiar and indulgent and distant at the same time . "I was wondering when you'd come waltzing back here," she purred, slinking closer and throwing her arms around Bethany's shoulders. The Champion's hands found Isabela's hips out of habit, her thumbs pressing into the bones undergirding the other woman's corset, but before Bethany could steal a kiss, Isabela tilted her head back. "I think-"

Unable to resist, or simply unwilling to, the Champion tugged Isabela closer and fastened her lips high on the other woman's neck, just beneath her jaw. A hint of blood smeared from Bethany's cheek, giving the pirate's salted cinnamon flesh a coppery tinge. She was rewarded with a throaty groan, and the feel of Isabela's fingers forking into the roots of her hair.

Just as Bethany's armoured boot planted in between the pirate's feet, Isabela rediscovered her voice, even as she leaned greedily into the Champion's attentions. "I think you're going to scare Barcus," she warned, her husky tone enough to tell Bethany that she couldn't care less. A gasp cut her off when Bethany levered her backward into the solid wall beside the fireplace, and the Champion growled into Isabela's neck as the pirate's legs settled about her waist. "Much as I want to encourage your eagerness," the pirate panted, her fingers tugging more insistently at Bethany's hair, "I did have something else to talk about, you know."

It was Bethany's turn to groan, her earlier tiredness all but forgotten in the heady rush of hunger and need that the other woman's presence evoked. She relented at least partially, however, pinning Isabela's torso more firmly against the wall with her own even as she drew her head back. "Sorry," the Champion panted. "Had to play the hero again," she explained, licking a bit of cinnamon from her lips. "The Hanged Man's not going to be the same for awhile, I expect."

Isabela cocked a brow at her, hitching herself another inch up the wall to make herself just slightly taller than Bethany. The motion just happened to bring the pirate's core over the Champion's thick belt buckle, which could only have been a coincidence . "I think Corff has more experience getting rid of bodies than you give him credit for," she mused, her eyes dancing. "I trust they deserved it…?"

Bethany's brow drew down as she nodded. "Slavers," she confirmed. "But I don't think Fenris needs to worry about going back to the Imperium any time soon. I guess I'm making a habit of saving my friends from magisters." She spoke the words lightly, in jest, but the shadow that passed over Isabela's features stole the Champion's breath. "Hey," she called, freeing her unarmoured left hand to cup the pirate's face. "You don't owe me anything," the woman insisted, not for the first time since Isabela's rescue the previous year. Her wayward thumb played over the pirate's lower lip, rubbing a slow circle around the stud of gold Isabela wore once again. "Now what did you come to see me about, if not to tempt me so?"

The pirate took a long moment to answer, her eyes half-lidding as she leaned into Bethany's caresses. "Oh, tempting is definitely on the manifest," Isabela insisted, her tongue snaking out to slither up the underside of the Champion's thumb to her palm. "But I've finally got some good news," she went on, rather than drawing the digit into her mouth as Bethany had been half-hoping she might. The pirate's eyes fixed Bethany with a hard stare, a different kind of hunger suffusing her features. "Velasco's here ."

The Champion did not gasp, precisely, but her lungs tingled with the swiftness of her intake of breath. "That means Castillon can't be too far away," she ventured. In the last few months, she and the pirate had opened up to one another, at least by a few degrees... enough for Bethany to know who had hunted Isabela, and why. " So they're still after you?"

"I killed the man they sold me to," Isabela boasted, smirking when Bethany's eyes narrowed. "I might've had a little help, but still...I don't think Castillon will stop unless I'm dead, now. He might even be worried about me coming after him," she purred, tilting her head forward until her bandana brushed across Bethany's forehead. " As though I'd ever dream of such a petty thing as revenge."

Bethany fought the urge to roll her eyes, but she sighed, her lips faintly buzzing with the feel of the pirate's breath tickling over them. "I don't suppose you want to disappear into my bedroom until they go away?"

Isabela's dark chuckle might have broken her heart, if Bethany hadn't already felt the thirst for her own vengeance and seen it served by her own hands more than once. "I don't suppose I do, Sunshine," she affirmed, arching up to brush a kiss over the bridge of Bethany's nose. "I have a plan to get to him, but...you might not like it."

The Champion had closed her eyes as she leaned into her lover's feather-light kiss, and she kept them shut tight as Isabela pressed on. "Let's hear it, then," she allowed, doing her best to ignore the cold stone settling at the bottom of her stomach. But the other woman didn't speak until Bethany's eyes had fluttered open, and when they did so, the Champion saw an almost foreign earnestness in Isabela's expression.

"I want you to take me to Velasco," she breathed, hardly audible over the crackle of the nearby fire. "Let him think he's taking me prisoner, and then follow us back to whatever bilge Castillon's hiding in."

Bethany's throat felt as dry as the desert outside of Perivantium, where she'd played at being a Grey Warden beside Athadra once more. "You were right," she admitted. "I don't much like that scheme." And yet she could see at once how much trust Isabela was placing in her, and she couldn't suppress the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth. "But...if it means that much to you," the Champion conceded, "I'll play along, for a little while." A sudden tension gripped her chest, and Bethany buried her head in the other woman's neck, her own throat thickening. "I'm not letting you go again," she vowed, though her tone was so low that she thought-or even hoped-that the pirate couldn't have heard that last exclamation.

The only answer Isabela had was to bless Bethany's head with another kiss, and after a moment she gave a low, frustrated growl before unhooking her legs from the Champion's waist. "There will be more wall-pushing," the pirate demanded as she found her feet and moved to extricate herself from her captive position. "We're definitely not finished with you," she told the spot that her back had just vacated.

With a breathy laugh, Bethany pressed her palm flat against the finely-paneled wood and scorched a handprint into it. "There," she declared, smirking at her companion. "Now we'll know just where to pick up where we left off." Isabela seemed far too pleased with the gesture, and her smile almost made up for the doubts and concerns coursing through the back of Bethany's mind. "Where's Velasco now, do you think?"

"I know exactly where the oyster-licking Antivan is," the pirate assured her. "Where does any well-to-do sailor go the minute they arrive in Kirkwall, if they know what's good for them?"

Bethany's brows knitted as she considered. "...The viscount's office? To grease the right palms?" Even before she'd finished, the Champion could tell by Isabela's insufferably smug face that she'd guessed incorrectly.

"Oh, he's getting something greased, alright," Isabela purred .

The Champion felt her cheeks colouring, just slightly, but before she could answer, Merrill's voice rang out from across the room. "You mean the Blooming Rose, don't you?" She looked inordinately proud of herself at Isabela's chuckling confirmation, her armour gleaming as she stepped closer to the conspiring pair. "Can I come along? I promise I won't say anything to ruin the surprise !"

The look on the Dalish elf's tattooed face was so eager and innocent that Bethany could almost forget just how deadly the other mage was, though she'd proven her competence only too recently in the Bone Pit, both during the fight with the High Dragon and during Carver's recovery from the ritual. And the Champion's limbs still ached, no matter how much her lust had masked the exhaustion she'd earned earlier. "I think that's a fine idea," Bethany opined with a glance to her mundane companion.

Isabela shrugged. "It's been awhile since we've killed anything together," she reasoned. "It'll be fun!"

Merrill's grin was worth almost any price, but Bethany still had a concern. "Do you think Carver would like to join us?" She assumed that the elf had been listening to her conversation with the pirate, but she didn't know how much Merrill had shared with the other Hawke. "Will he want to show us all what he can do?"

The elf's head tilted, her large eyes sweeping from Bethany to Isabela and back again. "He's had a long day of practice," she informed them. "Now he and Paqua are both resting...she really didn't like letting both of us out of the house without her," Merrill sighed, though she couldn't keep the little grin from her lips. "I don't think he'll be too mad if we go out and have a little fun of our own ."

"Sounds like a plan, then," Isabela sing-songed, strutting toward the door. "Bodahn," she called, and the steward appeared in the doorway as though from thin air. "If Carver asks, let him know that I've taken his sister and his lover to a whorehouse. We should be back before morning, but don't wait up for us."

Merrill and Bethany both snickered, especially when the dwarf bowed low and vowed to relay the pirate's words with the utmost fidelity. Bethany cautioned Barcus to stay behind, using her brother and niece as an excuse when he yapped argumentatively. And then the three women were off, seeming little more than wealthy, well-armed carousers, strutting through Hightown on a late spring evening. There weren't even bandits to interrupt their march to the Rose. Isabela greeted several of the establishment's attendants and staff by name, and Bethany had to fight back a mixture of jealousy and pride when more than a few of the building's patrons sought to proposition the pirate, only to have her sharp tongue cut them down to size. Only once they'd reached the Rose's upper floor did Isabela hesitate, throwing an uncertain glance at Bethany and Merrill. "You'd better hide," she told the elf, her tone somewhat apologetic. "We can't have you waving at me and making Velasco suspicious."

Merrill's ears drooped slightly, but Bethany stepped in. "Just stand in the corner over there," she offered with a tilt of her head. "Once you see Isabela walk by, I'll come find you, and we'll go after her together, alright?" That seemed to settle the elf's qualms, and she dutifully retreated. Bethany took a steadying breath, turning back to Isabela. "Are you ready?"

The pirate bit her lip. "I think so," she managed, after a moment's pause. "Now, this needs to be convincing," Isabela stressed. "You'll need to get creative. Call me names-even hit me!"

The Champion's brows knitted, the thought of anyone hitting the other woman causing her hands to slip closer to the swords at her hips. "I'm...not sure I can pull this off," she warned her companion.

Isabela's face grew harder again. "Stick with it," she insisted, "no matter what I do. Velasco's a clever son of a bitch; if you waver, he'll notice." Then she favoured Bethany with a cocky smirk. "And besides...haven't you ever wanted to slap me? Just a little?" Bethany had to hide her snickering behind her hands, so Isabela forged ahead. "Whatever you do, just make sure he takes me to Castillon. I'll do my best to leave a trail, and I'll make enough noise that Merrill can help you track us. Do you understand?"

Despite her uncertainty, despite the subtle whisper that urged her to show Velasco his own intestines at the first sight of the man, Bethany forced herself to nod. "I will do it," she vowed.

The relief in the pirate's eyes was almost too much to ignore. "Good," she affirmed, before turning away. "It'll be better if you lead on."

Bethany nodded, stepping closer to the door and taking hold of Isabela's wrist with her left hand; she didn't have to delve too deeply to find a wellspring of rage, which only bubbled up closer to the surface when her firm knock went unanswered. With a grunt, the Champion summoned a ball of arcane energy and blasted the door off of its hinges before stepping across the threshold.

Within, a dark-haired man had a half-dressed elf pinned up against a wall, though the girl seemed far less enthusiastic than Isabela had, back at Bethany's estate. The shock of the intrusion gave her a chance to duck beneath the man's arm, and though he twisted, he wasn't quite fast enough to catch her. "Get back here, you-"

Bethany took another step forward, her grip growing tighter around the pirate's forearm. "Let her go," she scoffed, her face twisting in a grimace. "I think I've got something more to your taste right here...Velasco, is it?"

The foreign man's dark eyes glinted as he considered the intruder, clearly unaware of her high standing within the city. "Unless you're offering to take the skittish bitch's place," he barked in an Antivan accent, "I'm not interested…"

"I think Castillon will be," Bethany insisted, taking a single sidestep, so that her would-be captive came into full view. "Consider this a present for him."

The man, Velasco, seemed momentarily taken aback, but Isabela filled the silence brilliantly. "A present for...what?!" And then she yanked hard at Bethany's grip, her free hand already reaching back to grab at one of her daggers.

Bethany reacted with instincts developed over years of combat; she spun quickly, planting her boot behind Isabela's heel and clapping her armoured hand around the pirate's throat. In a heartbeat the other woman was on the floor, sprawled across the ruined door, with the tip of Bethany's right-hand sword digging into her sternum. "I'm the Champion of Kirkwall," she announced to the room, though her honey-coloured eyes never wavered from Isabela's face. "I have my reputation to consider. I'm sure someone of your...background...can respect that. "

The chill in her tone nearly broke when she saw the naked fear stealing across the supine woman's eyes. "I...thought I could trust you," Isabela choked out, and those last two words kept Bethany from turning her blade on Velasco and the two guards that had emerged from opposite corners of the room.

"You remember when I had to fight the Arishok," the Champion mused, her head tilting, "and you ran away?" She didn't have to fake the bitter edge that entered her voice, then. "This is like that...only funnier ." Bethany looked from one helmeted thug to the other, nodding them closer. The men seemed to grasp her meaning at once, for they moved to secure their new prisoner, and Bethany only stepped back once Isabela's arms were firmly in their grasp.

Velasco chuckled from behind and to her left, just out of Bethany's reach, and she forced herself to sheathe her magical blade. "Castillon will be pleased," the man effused, grinning as though he couldn't believe his luck. "He's been looking for Isabela for some time, and he knows just how slippery she can be. Here," he said, reaching for a pouch on his hip. "Consider this a token of our appreciation, Champion." He sneered at the pirate, who was struggling against her guards and spitting curses at Bethany. "It's more than she is worth."

Though nothing could have pleased her more than to take the man's coins and force them down his throat, she took the proffered purse with a short nod of acknowledgement, her stomach roiling but her face as smooth as she could make it. Velasco seemed to take her acceptance of the gift at face value, and Bethany couldn't help but think that this was the same coin he'd have given the Rose for the elven girl's services, had she not interfered; she made a mental note to return it to them, on account of the damage to the door if nothing else, once this business was done .

After Velasco and his men had wrestled Isabela out of the room and down the stairs, Bethany emerged to find Merrill staring after the strangers, wide-eyed and concentrating. "We'd best be quick," she breathed. "They're nearly at the door!"

The Champion nodded once more, far more emphatically this time, and a few moments later the two mages were out in Hightown once more. True to her word, Isabela had managed to drop a piece of jewellery just outside the Blooming Rose, and that was enough to set her pursuers onto her trail. Merrill soon fixed her ears on the pirate's near-constant hisses and curses, and her eyes picked up signs that even Bethany would have skipped over as they tracked through Hightown and eventually to one of the stairways that led to a more affluent section of the city's docks. Once there, the trail threatened to go cold, but Merrill picked up on a few muffled voices from behind an unguarded door. Bethany was able to force it far more subtly than she'd broken through the door in the Rose, and she and Merrill crept out onto a balcony overlooking a private wharf, where Velasco stood lazily against a pole as Isabela paced in front of him like a caged panther.

Bethany was surprised to find the pirate's hands unbound and her daggers gleaming over her shoulders, but that only spoke to the Antivan's foolish hubris. As the Champion stepped closer, she heard his voice growling. "You're going to do whatever I want," he hissed through his teeth. "I own you."

Merrill gasped, but the noise must have been too small to draw the man's attention from so far below them. Bethany couldn't keep herself from stepping up to the edge of the balcony, surveying the scene; Velasco and his two guards had been joined by at least a dozen more armed men, some of whom looked to be shaking off the last remnants of sleep. In the distance, a two-masted ship sat high in the harbour's dark water, with the promise of even more enemies on board. The human mage shared a significant look with her elven compatriot, and Merrill only nodded.

From below, Isabela's chuckle erupted like a dolphin coming up for air. "You sure about that, Velasco?"

Just then, the Antivan's eyes flicked up to the balcony, and Bethany didn't bother to hide the grin that danced across her lips when she saw his fear. "You!" He exclaimed, pointing up at her. "I knew the bitch was up to something!" He looked around to his gathered men. "Kill them," he exhorted. "Kill them all!"

Isabela was already dancing, her twin daggers flashing in the moonlight that filtered in through the building's open side. From their superior perch, Bethany and Merrill rained spells down upon the throng of sailors and soldiers, and before long, great gouts of flame and sheafs of lightning had reduced the bastards' numbers by half. Bethany soon broke from her position and ran down to the main level to join the fray with her swords, while Merrill continued hexing and electrocuting anyone her magic could reach. Compared to fighting a magister and his apprentices, Velasco's scoundrels were hardly a challenge for the Champion and her companions .

When the last of the raiders had fallen, Bethany watched Isabela stalk over to Velasco's corpse, sparing it a kick. "For just a minute there I was worried," the pirate admitted, glancing back over her shoulder. "I'm...glad to see you've got my back, still."

The Champion wiped a smear of blood from her own cheek, eyeing the crimson splotches on Isabela's face. "Always," she insisted, and for just a moment it felt like the pair of them weren't separated by leaded glass.

But the moment passed in a heartbeat, and the pirate began moving to one of the building's recesses. "Velasco sent word to Castillon," she told the two mages. "He'll be here any minute, and I want to look around first, to see why he's in Kirkwall." Bethany nodded, even though the other woman couldn't see. She set to work searching Velasco's body for some sign, but after a few breaths, Isabela let out a triumphant call. "Hah!"

She'd picked a locked door, and she emerged from it with a ream of documents, looking pleased and disturbed at the same time. "So...Castillon's trying to expand his slaving business into the Free Marches," Isabela said lightly, though her tone couldn't mask the bitterness in her laugh. "Why am I not surprised?" She looked up to Bethany, her tongue working behind the gold stud in her lower lip. "Big Girl would find these papers very interesting…"

Bethany was mildly disturbed by the calculation that she saw in the pirate's eyes, and her lips parted, but before she could raise a question, a smooth Antivan voice rose from the shadows. "And Velasco told me you were all tied up, a present waiting to be opened," the stranger cooed in his clipped tones, stepping into the light. He appeared completely alone, and utterly unconcerned by the carnage around him. "I see he has paid for that little mistake. What a pretty smear he makes," the well-armed Antivan scoffed, sparing the dead man a cheeky grin. "Well played, Isabela," the man said, and the Champion was certain that he was Castillon, then. "Crossed and double-crossed. Just like the old days, no?"

When he spread his arms, ostensibly in a gesture of peace, Isabela snorted. "You're one to talk about double-crossing," she spat. "You knew my terms."

Castillon inclined his head. "Indeed," he conceded. "And we have both suffered for my folly, dearest Isabela. You have proven more resilient than I had ever imagined."

"You shouldn't have sent Delgado on a mission he couldn't handle," the Rivaini pirate chided him. "But if you really want to talk, why don't we talk about these?" She held up the rolled papers with one hand. "Slavery...in the free marches?" She snorted. "They're not going to like that."

The change in Castillon's expression was subtle, but obvious to anyone who'd ever been truly terrified. It almost made Bethany sick to her stomach, that a challenge to this man's business would make him as scared as she'd been in the Deep Roads the first three times she'd gone. He didn't seem to pay the Champion any attention, however, his eyes focused solely on Isabela. "Get to the point," he purred. "You wish to deal, we can deal."

The pirate let out a long breath, and Bethany heard her smirk in her voice, even if she couldn't quite see the other woman's face in the corner of her vision. "You give me your ship and your word that you'll leave me alone," Isabela offered. "And you can take these papers and go."

"What?" Bethany could hardly believe her ears...or, perhaps, she just didn't want to. "He trades people for money," she hissed, turning to look the other woman in the eye. Just like he traded you, she all but said, though something stilled her tongue. "Can you trust him?"

Isabela stood her ground, her brow furrowing. "He's a businessman," she explained, "and this is a business deal. He'll keep his word."

Castillon tried to speak, but Bethany overrode him. "If you want his ship so badly, can't we just kill him and take it? I'm pretty sure we've already slaughtered the crew."

The pirate raised her chin in a cavalier expression...all but her eyes, which told of her own fear. "You don't just kill a man and take his ship," the Rivaini woman pleaded, though Bethany knew in her tone that she was lying, trying to cover up her true motivation. "That's crude and amateurish!" And that stare continued, begging for an understanding the Champion wasn't quite sure she was able to give. "How will he tell everyone how I bested him if he's dead?"

And then Bethany saw it-the outlaw, the pirate queen, needed Castillon's good word to go back to reaving on the open seas with impunity . Otherwise she would still have to worry about crossing paths with the Felicisima Armada whenever she peeked out of a port, no matter what kind of a ship and crew she managed to get. As much as it galled her, as much as she wanted to open Castillon's belly like he were a kipper, Bethany had come too far to keep that weight hanging over the other woman's head for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright," she conceded. "It's your call to make."

Isabela blinked, as though in surprise, and she had to hide her smile behind a smirk as she looked over to Castillon. "Your ship is gorgeous," she purred. "I want it."

The Antivan looked back and forth from Isabela to Bethany; he even spared Merrill a glance, though a brief one. "Give me the documents," he demanded smoothly, "and you can have the ship...and you will never see me again."

The Rivaini pirate's fist clenched tighter around the papers. "Swear it."

Castillon bent forward in a florid bow. "I swear it on my mother's grave," he exclaimed, as evenly as Bethany had heard him speak thus far. "Now," he went on, straightening up. "Give me the documents." Tentatively, Isabela stepped forward just enough that they both had to reach out for the hand-off. Once Castillon had the papers within his grasp, he searched them over for a moment before nodding crisply. "Our business is hereby concluded," he pronounced. "Forever. Be well, Isabela."

"Wait," Bethany breathed, and she felt three pairs of nervous eyes fix upon her. "Your business with Isabela is done, but I have one piece of advice to offer," she allowed, and she didn't continue until she was certain she had the man's full attention. "Take those plans and burn them. Because if I ever hear that you or any of your underlings are slaving in the Free Marches, I promise that you don't have enough ships' crews to stand between you and my response ." Castillon's face spasmed, but Bethany took a warning step forward, and she was satisfied to see him flinch. "Now begone, and keep your word, at the very least." The Antivan choked on a curse, but he turned away from them all the same, and he was gone in the space of a breath. Bethany was nearly knocked off balance by the force of Isabela's sudden embrace, but she found that she couldn't return it with the same enthusiasm. "He deserved to die, you know."

"And he will, someday," Isabela whispered, right against Bethany's neck. "But it doesn't have to be by your hand."

The Champion couldn't muster up an argument that felt better than the pirate's lips at her throat, though she still felt a bit of ice burning low in her chest. "So...now that you've got a ship," she ventured, "what are you planning to do?"

Isabela settled back, her arms still loosely wrapped around Bethany's shoulders. "It'll take months to take on a proper crew, even if some of my old sea dogs haven't died of the pox by now," she mused. "But I think I've already got someone special in mind for my first mate...though I hear she's got some high and mighty hero's complex, so she might keep me tied down for awhile." Her brown eyes shone in the low light, and she bit her lip. "That is...if...if she's interested…"

That ball of ice in Bethany's chest melted at the sight of Isabela's face, open and vulnerable for the first time in the Champion's memory. "She's interested," she breathed, and she was rewarded by an unvarnished grin that soon bled over to her own face.

"Oh, that's lovely," Merrill breathed from beside them. "But does that mean...you're going to go away?"

Isabela glanced toward the Dalish elf, chuckling, and when she turned back, Bethany was amazed to see that she hadn't thrown up any more walls or windows between them. Her eyes shined with silent laughter. "Well," she breathed, "it looks like we've found our first stow-away ."