Isabela
"You have no idea what you're missing, Broody" she whispers in my ear before she saunters away, hips swinging enticingly. I keep my face impassive as I watch her walk away. She's very sexy and if I'm going to be completely honest, I have been tempted a couple of times. Her smooth caramel skin makes me think of hot summer nights and spiced wine. If I took her offer, I'm fairly certain she could bring me exquisite pleasure.
But tonight, like every other night, I pretend to be unmoved. My face has been schooled by years of slavery not to betray my emotions if I set my mind to it. As a slave my body was used in ways I wish the lyrium would burn from my memory, as it did with my past. I belong to myself now and I will choose who and when to share my body with someone.
My eyes wander towards Hawke and Varric who are elaborating a story into ridiculous proportions for their captive audience at the Hanged Man and I feel my lips tug into a half smile. I will choose someone who will understand that opening myself up is a sacrifice, someone who appreciates me and doesn't wish me otherwise.
The crowd roars with laughter and I chuckle along. Perhaps one day, perhaps never, but I will not choose tonight, Isabela, not tonight.