A Favour

Chapter 1 - Isabela's Favour

Fenris was a good bluff. You learn something new everyday, apparently. He wasn't, however, a very interesting drunk. I could barely tell the difference between broody sober Fenris, and broody drunk Fenris. Unless you squinted really hard, maybe. He does have a bit of a flush to his cheeks, if you look really hard for it.

Fenris was nursing a drink, the number of which I had lost count of earlier in the night, seizing up his hand of cards with a look of utter disinterest on his face. Either he had a terrible hand, or he really was a better bluff than I had initially given him credit for.

I lower my hand below the tabletop casually, pretending to study them intently, stroking my chin in mock contemplation. Gently, I pull the card of choice from the temporary adhesive below the table, swapping it out for a not-so-savory one.

I push a small pile of coins into the ante that sits in the middle of the table with a boastful smile. I level my gaze confidently, seizing up my playmates. Hawke throws her hands into the air in exasperation, fueling the smile that spreads across my face.

"I give up. I don't have coins just lying around waiting to be gambled away like you seem to, Isabela," she throws my way, sighing dramatically.

"Sweet thing," I drawl with a tilt of my head. "I have coins to spare for this game, because I'm good at this game."

Varric snorts to my right. "Good at cheating, would be a might more accurate. But then again, who am I to waggle my finger, when I'm the king of turning the odds in my favour?" He meets my bet, before rocking back in his rickety chair, hands resting casually behind his head, a roguish smile on his lips.

"Here, here," I raise my mug in a salute, grinning broadly.

Ander's is next to throw down his hand with a tired sigh.

"What's the point of playing when everyone else is cheating?" he asks nobody in particular. "I know when to call it a night."

Without wasting any time, he pushes himself up from the small table with a nod, collecting his jacket from the back of his chair. I don't miss the small squeeze he gives Marian's shoulder in farewell, a small smile brightening his features momentarily. The woman is question pauses halfway through explaining something to Merrill, offers an absentminded farewell to the mage, and then turns back to the lithe elf, picking up the conversation exactly where she had left it. Without another word, and a final glance in Hawke's direction, Ander's leaves the Hanged Man. Back to his clinic in Darktown, no doubt.

That man had no idea how to have fun.

At that thought, I can't help but frown. Then again, who was I to judge? Lately, I was having no fun. There were only so many interesting people in a city like Kirkwall. Now, if I had my ship back, I could travel to all kinds of interesting places, and meet all kinds of interesting people. Antiva was always a blast, perhaps Tevinter… My eyes roam to that of the tattooed elf that sits across from me, still intently observing his hand. Then again, why travel so far when all the exotic mystery of Tevinter had been delivered onto my very doorstep?

I moisten my lips with my tongue, smiling.

"So Fenris," I start, my voice low as I lean slightly across the table. My smile widens when I notice his eyes roam, ever so quickly, to my breasts. "What's a girl got to do to break that poker face, hmm?"

His eyes do not linger for long, snapping up to meet my own. I can't help but admire the deep green of them. After all, it's an insult not to appreciate an attractive specimen.

I lift my foot carefully, and begin running it gently against the inside of his thigh, as I offer him a wink. He jolts suddenly in his seat at my sudden attentions. A scowl darkens his face momentarily, and I almost catch a glimpse of his cards in his surprise. He is quick to regain his demeanor, however, shaking his head, a smirk chasing away his scowl. Without a word, he reaches below the table and holds my foot firmly within his hand. His eyes remain on my own, unblinking and stern. I raise my eyebrow at him in challenge, before he releases my foot. Silently, I return it to the floor.

The smirk still evident on his face, he pushes his small pile of coins into the middle of the table.

"All in, Broody?" Varric is just as surprised as I am, itching at his chin as he contemplates his hand. "That hardly seems wise."

I meet Fenris' bet with a smile. He has been betting sparingly up until this point. He probably feels uncomfortable and wants this game to be over as quickly as possible now. I've probably scared him off, I realize with a wistful sigh. Then, a grin takes hold upon a far more interesting possibility; then again, maybe he's trying to prove something. Oh, I hope he is. A man with something to prove always makes for an interesting night.

Hawke suddenly falls silent, eyeing the game with renewed interest. She raises a dark eyebrow at Fenris and then the remainder of his money. I chuckle at her disbelieving look. She doesn't believe he has a decent hand either, this move being so unlike Fenris' usual cautiousness. Resting her pale hands atop the old table, Hawke pushes herself up on her toes with a slight sway, trying to catch a look at the white haired elf's cards. Merrill's hand innocently rests upon Hawke's backside, ensuring that she does not topple over.

Fenris ignores her antics, eyes trained on my own in challenge.

"Alright then, Elf," Varric snorts through a chuckle, shaking his head.

I laught when he doesn't meet our bets, dramatically throwing his cards onto the table, face up for all to see with a shrug. He's got an average hand, nothing that you'd want to have a lot of money riding on, but it was something at least. More than what Fenris has got, I'm betting.

"I know when to call it quits," Varric states with a friendly grin.

Hawke snorts through a laugh at the dwarf's statement, still trying to get a peek of Fenris' cards. Her face is flush from a steady stream of drinks, and her blue eyes are not as sharp as they usually are.

"Who won?" Merrill queries Hawke quietly, eyes wide and taking everything in.

"Me," I confidently tell Merrill through a laugh, placing my cards upon the table with a flourish.

I have a decent enough hand, I guess, only barely better than Varric's own, but one that I know will be enough.

Fenris has got nothing on my cards, I repeat to myself.

The elf offers a small smirk, obviously feinting confidence in his own hand before placing his cards slowly out, one by one.

I feel my stomach tighten as each card falls and I begin to question myself when the cocky expression doesn't leave his face. Everybody is silent, staring at his hand.

He meets my eyes before he places the last card down for all to see.

I break the silence with a boastful laugh, banging a closed fist onto the table in glee.

"I knew it!" I exclaim in reply to his cards. "Nothing!"

He'd almost had me, the bastard.

Fenris merely shrugs in response, silent, but there is a wicked glint to his eyes; he was enjoying himself, despite his losses.

Varric's chuckle is deep, his shoulders rising and falling, "Figures," is all he says.

I pull the small pile of coins towards myself, before plucking them off of the table and placing them carefully into my pocket. I offer Fenris a friendly wink. He crosses his arms atop his chest and leans back comfortably in his chair.

My eyes fall to the empty wine glass on the table before him, and I smile. I know just what to do with my winnings.

"Come Fenris," I start, pushing myself out of my chair, patting my pocketed winnings happily. "You've earned yourself some drinks after that fine show of bluffing. Learning from the best, I see."

With a chuckle I make my way to the bar, raising my chin at Norah to get her attention. I pass closely behind Fenris, whom it seems is happy enough to stay seated, offering only a silent shake of his head and a small smile at my words. The excitement of the win, and Fenris' blatant challenge leave me confident to try something more. I lean towards his chair as I pass, running my fingers over the backrest, only a breath away from his back.

"You've earned yourself more than just some drinks," I offer, my voice soft and challenging, "If you're up for it."

He does not turn to face me straight away at my challenging tone, but I hear the deep rumble of a chuckle.

I smirk in reply to his receptive response and continue to the bar, adding a sway to my hips as I walk. My smile widens ever so slightly at the shrill sound of his chair pushing away from the table, audible even over the surrounding ruckus of the tavern.

As focused as I am on the sound of Fenris' feet on the tavern's floorboards, I do not notice the frown crease Hawke's brow, nor do I hear her sudden whisper of farewell to only Varric and Merrill, her eyes glancing quickly in Fenris' direction. It is only after Fenris and I finish our drinks, both competitively trying to down one before the other, that I notice Hawke is gone.

"This is what you classify as wine?" Fenris queries.

He casually wipes the offending liquid from his lips with a thumb.

I give up on my quick search of the tavern for my missing friend. She's probably long gone by now. I turn back to him with a smile, shaking my head clear of all worries for Hawke. I shall deal with her later, I decide resolutely. She's a big girl. I slowly lick my lips clean of the whiskey I had just downed, drawing out the simple motion and hoping to keep his attentions, lest he also notice Hawke's absence. That would probably put a damper on what I have planned for my night. Maybe my morning too.

"I have some imported wines in my room," I offer calmly. "Care to wet your lips with something sweeter than what this tavern has to offer?"

His eyes cut to mine sharply, catching the sultry tone to my voice. I let him appraise me, casually watching him from under long eyelashes.

He places the empty goblet back onto the bar and watches me expectantly.

"I would," is all he says.

Good. I never liked small talk.

Without a word I make my way to the stairs that lead up to my room for the night, not bothering to look back to check that he is following. They always follow. Fenris is no different.

Always tiptoeing around the topic of Hawke and Fenris' long finished relationship wasn't going to do her any favours. It's time she came to terms with it all. Hawke can be as mad at me as she likes. It will be worth it just to see how much of Fenris' body those tattoos really cover.

...

More to come soon. It's a four-part story through the eyes of those immediately involved. This was Isabela, next will be Anders, then Hawke, and finally Fenris.

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.