A/N: I should warn all readers that my stories are probably chock-full of grammatical issues, because English is only my 2nd language. I hope you can enjoy the story behind this regardless.
It wasn't without reservation that Aveline ascended the stairs towards the rooms in the Hanged Man this night. The door to Varric's large suite was closed. Another door next to it was ajar, and the guard-captain made a face at the sounds coming from it. They made her extremely uncomfortable. Not really better than a Lowtown back alley. Whores were plying their trade everywhere these days.
Isabela's door was closed however. Aveline politely knocked on the door and waited for the inhabitant of the room to call her inside. The door opened after a moment, and a bronzed arm snaked out to pull Aveline inside. The red-head's gut reaction was to push the hand away forcefully, but Isabela was surprisingly strong as she pushed the guard's back against the now-closed door. "I had no idea you felt about me this way, Aveline, that you would come seek me out like this. Have your way with me!" She laughed delightedly at Aveline's horrified expression and stepped away.
"Don't worry. I was just kidding. For now. Welcome to my home." Isabela made a sweeping gesture and bowed. It wasn't really much of a home, all things considered. Cheap furniture, a large bed, a dresser. Even Merrill probably had more luxuries in her house in the alienage than Isabela had here. At least the Hanged Man's roof had no leaks. The pirate herself looked rather different this evening. She wore no bandana and her hair was loosely falling into her face and spilling over her shoulders. Her lip stud was missing as well, and she was clad in a very old-fashioned dress of all things. It was grey and completely unadorned, with an apron. She looked almost matronly in it, even though the alluring curves of her body would probably look good in a linen sack. She was completely bare of any jewelry.
"I only just got back from the docks, Aveline. And you can stop being so speechless and slack-jawed. With a jaw as square as yours, it's a scary expression to have." Isabela sprawled out on her bed, pulling up the hem of her dress considerably for more comfort. Or maybe she just wanted to make Aveline uncomfortable. Whatever, both probably were a success.
Aveline took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the door. "I didn't expect to be pulled in here, and I did not expect you to look so...normal. It's good to know that even a slut can do something with herself." Isabela snorted at this and reached for her lip stud that she had kept on the bedside table.
"Maybe one of these days we'll sort out what to do about your prissy looks. Maybe then you'll even get laid. I tell you, it would do you a world full of good." Isabela finished putting her stud back in and stretched out lazily. "I am beat, Aveline. You better appreciate all the legwork I have done today. I didn't want to be caught snooping, so I had to dress up a bit. As Lowtown wench selling pastries to workers on the docks. So much eye candy, you wouldn't believe it." She rolled over on her side, her eyes following Aveline's inspection of her room.
The guard-captain studied every nook, every cranny of the room, shaking her head in confusion. "I really thought that your room would be a bit flashier. Like you. But you don't waste much time here, do you?" She finally sat down, looking at Isabela. "Were you able to find out anything? About how they're organized?"
Isabela picked at some lint on one of her threadbare sheets on the bed. "Just heard a lot of talk. Most dock workers know that there's some coin in for them if they point at some guy in Lowtown. Name's Yuvar. A marcher from Starkhaven, it is said. All he is looking for are cheap laborers, they say, so there are a lot of young Fereldans heading his way." Her brown eyes were hard as she stared at Aveline. "How is it possible that I can spend a couple hours on the docks selling pastries, and already find the fuck who's doing the slave selling? Surely you knew this much already?"
Aveline's jaw set squarely and she pushed her chin forward. "Yes, I have heard this name before, but he is squeaky clean. Works as a gardener for one of the noble families in Hightown. Devout, goes to the chantry when he can, and you never see him hang out with anyone unsavory whatsoever. He doesn't even frequent the Hanged Man for all that I can tell. We got nothing on him. I need more than just dock workers wagging their tongues about the coin he supposedly throws at them."
The Rivaini pushed herself out of bed and opened her dresser to retrieve her white corset and a clean bandana. "What do you want me to do? Sell Kitten off to him to see where he takes her, catch them in the act?" She looked over her shoulder with a sardonic smile that was wiped off her face when she looked at Aveline. "Fuck you, you thought about it." She tossed the corset onto the bed and then moved to grab the guard by the shoulders. "I swear, if you even think about that, I'll stab you in the eye. They would break her, and besides, she wouldn't be able to even understand any plan and not ruin it. Leave her the fuck out of it."
Aveline rose and shook Isabela off. "I didn't ask her, I asked you, didn't I? Yes, of course smuggling someone in would be easiest to find out what was going on, but it's a risk I am not willing to take. Maybe you could...hook up with that Yuvar. Find his weaknesses. Wine him, dine him, make him blabber."
Isabela rubbed her eyes and then kicked Aveline's shin. "That was your bloody plan all around. Why not use the whore to solve this for you? You could have said so in the first place and it would have saved me the pain of playing pretty pastry fucking-vendor." She pulled her dress off, and for a moment took smug satisfaction in Aveline's horrified expression when a naked Isabela stood before her. She smiled widely when Aveline's green eyes zoned in on the details. Before she could get too much of a look, Isabela threw her frock over Aveline's head.
"I bloody hate using my body for anything that's not my own choice. I pick freely. You are so lucky that I hate slavers more than I hate you right now." Isabela put her corset on, angrily yanking on the strings. "I expect surveillance when I actually do wine and dine him somewhere. I'll let you know the details. Now get out, I need to find some relaxation to take the edge of this day, and I am too angry at you to even mess with your ugly face anymore." Aveline stumbled off without any further word after being dismissed so rudely, pushed out of Isabela's room as much as she was pulled inside earlier.
Aveline had a sleepless night in the barracks, tossing restlessly. As guard-captain, she had her own room, but this night it felt even more stifling and lonely than usual. Her mind was still reeling from Isabela's nightly visit a few nights back. It had been shocking how the Rivaini played her, finding every single weakness of hers, downright to kissing the inside of her wrist.
Yes, she was lonely, more lonely than she'd ever admit to herself. She used to be able to focus much of her attention on Hawke, 'sistering' her, checking up on her every single step, but Hawke had grown out of it. Hawke might be motherless now, but she wasn't lonely. She was amazingly strong and she had Merrill now. The two were inseparable. Aveline didn't particularly care for the blood mage, but she made Hawke very happy.
And that left Aveline restless. Isabela was probably right that she smothered the guards with her attention and her meddling, but what else was there in life? She didn't dare think about Donnic, who was avoiding her ever since she so foolishly asked for help in wooing him. She wanted to think about Isabela even less.
She had some guilty twinges that she actually asked the pirate to use her body to catch those slavers. Who asked something like that of another woman? Who knew what a man eager to sell young girls into whoredom might do to a woman trying to engage him into any sort of close contact? Surely it's not anything that she hasn't done a million times before. Still, it hadn't been the right thing to ask, and Aveline strongly believed in things that were right. It was the opposite of protecting someone, and even someone as depraved as Isabela deserved her protection.
When Aveline fell asleep, the image of Isabela slipping out of her dress danced on her mind, restlessly, before she finally found the oblivion of dreamless sleep.
Tracking down Yuvar wasn't quite as easy as first imagined. Aveline sent Isabela a bunch of information about the man. He lived in Lowtown, but not too far from the bazaar and stairs to Hightown, which were practically posh and swanky considering the rest of Lowtown. He was in the employment of the Pebbleton family, a minor noble family who were wealthy enough to have a manor in Hightown that required a gardener.
But how do you approach a simple gardener turned slaver when you didn't actually want to pretend you had slaves to sell? His method seemed to be to have a drink at one of the stalls in the Lowtown Bazaar, every afternoon after work, and people were then able to approach him. Isabela had spied on him from afar. Whatever supplicant he was receiving, they usually left after a while, without him. Not a single one of the dock workers was willing to spit it out how it all happened. She only knew that's how he did his business. As he did this business in the busiest time of day, rush hour in Lowtown, Isabela had zero luck chasing him down. She couldn't even consider the roofs, not in the late afternoon. He never conducted any business at night.
Ultimately, it was the girl who she had wanted to keep out of this completely who brought Yuvar to her. Dear Merrill. If anyone had asked Isabela who she cared about most in the world, she would have said 'My next ship' first and 'Merrill' second. There was something sweet and irresistible about the Dalish elf, in a completely nonsexual way. She might have been Isabela's first real friend, who just loved her for herself and not her looks. She was so naive and so guileless. Too naive maybe. Isabela had been hanging around the Pebbleton manor casually, as a shocker actually wearing pants and no bandana. This whole thing with me having to change my clothing style needs to go away, gah. She was just about to call it a day, when she espied Yuvar, dragging a distraught Merrill out of the door.
"You dirty knife-ear, I don't care about your claims that you actually live in Hightown. You stole from the garden, and I am going to take care of it that you pay for it." For a fleeting moment, Isabela played with the idea to have him drag Merrill off to whatever and finally find out what he truly was doing. Then she shook her head. It was sweet Merrill after all. "Oy, Merrill, I was just waiting for you here! Hawke was asking me to escort you back to the estate." She moved towards them, not even sauntering. After all she was demure Isabela today. Not as demure as at the docks, but showing considerably less skin and jewelry than on all other days. She even wore her hair in a ponytail.
"Bela, by the creators, so good to see you! Help me!" Merrill had this panicky look in her eyes that she often had when she had no clear idea of why she was in trouble. It happened quite a lot. "I was just picking flowers for Hawke, they would look so nice on her writing desk."
Isabela offered a winning smile and then bowed to Yuvar, getting a good luck at him for the first time. He looked incredibly...normal. Maybe 5'9", he wore the plain clothing of a servant. His skin was suntanned from working outside, but his face was entirely unremarkable. His eyes were small and grey, and he squinted at Isabela. His hair was mouse-brown and cropped close to his head, with a receding hairline. He was maybe thirty years old, it was hard to tell.
"I am Beladana, majordomo at the Hawke Estate. You might have heard of Messere Hawke, she is doing quite remarkable things around Kirkwall. Quite wealthy too. This elf here is one of her companions." Merrill stared at Isabela full of confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it audibly when Isabela gave a tiny shake of her head. "I will vouch for it personally that she will not bother the garden of the Pebbleton manor anymore. You know how elves can get, quite silly the moment they see something green."
"Now, that's not true! It's not like that, it's just that..." Merrill yelped when Isabela stepped on her bare toes and immediately forgot what she had been about to say.
"Serah, please let me recompense you for the insult of having an elf in the manor. I hope the Pebbletons were not disturbed by this interlude. Messere Hawke would never forgive herself if she gave insult." Isabela bowed again and then produced a heavy pouch of sovereigns. Only good that she had asked Aveline to cover her expenses in advance. At the clink of coins, Yuvar let go of Merrill's arms. "Shoo along, Merrill, Hawke will be waiting." Isabela was sure she'd never hear the end of it when this was over.
Isabela handed five sovereigns over to Yuvar, with a questioning look, and he quickly pocketed them. So he's greedy and does things for money. He then looked up at her and said with a smile on his thin lips "That's not all I will ask for my silence. I might have to alert the guards otherwise. How about a meal and a glass of wine at Jacques' Winery later tonight, my dear Beladana?" His voice was very soft and gentle as was his smile. His eyes however were wintry cold. He gave Isabela the chills.
"Why, with little ol' me? It'd be my pleasure, Serah...what's your name?" Isabela managed to blush like an old maiden. How good that she had perfected the manners of a virgin in many roleplay sessions. Men went wild for maidens.
"My name is Yuvar, and I am looking forward to dinner. Meet you there then, tonight at 8?" His voice lowered a bit, almost a whisper. "I would be heartbroken if you didn't make it. I'd have to find you, all over Kirkwall. But I think I would. Don't think I wouldn't." He smiled and turned to leave, back inside the gates to the manor.
Isabela was shivering, even though it was a warm day. This guy made her feel cold all over.
Aveline had to roll her shoulders with unease, patrolling through Hightown with Brennan. For weeks she had paid special attention to this mansion. She had noticed Isabela hanging around there, and then she had rigidly watched the exchange between those three.
"I'll be damned," she murmured, which made guard Brennan look at her in confusion. She wanted to stab me in the eye for considering a use for Merrill, but now uses her herself. The hypocritical bitch. "Nothing, let's carry on." She kept her eyes on the exchange, in particular when Merrill had left. Even more demure, the signs for Isabela's flirtatious posture were obvious, and it looked like it worked. The pirate did however seem troubled. As she turned to leave, she waved for one of the many Hightown messengers.
Later in the day, Aveline received Isabela's message, delivered with a delay, straight to her office. 'Jacques' Winery, 8 o' clock. Smells worse than rotten fish'. The guard-captain pursed her lips. This whole affair left a bad taste in her mouth. She'd have to be in the vicinity. She did not ever want to have any harm come to Isabela. It left her feeling uneasy. Maybe this all was too high a risk for someone who belonged to Aveline's quasi-family.