Some Lovers

A 100 prompts challenge on Fenris/LadyHawke by Marianne Bennet

005: Loved

The bad poet was on a roll. Isabela was beginning to think she might have to abandon the Hanged Man altogether –at least for the night –when she spotted Hawke lurking at an otherwise empty table in the corner, cradling in one hand a cup of ale that looked as though it hadn't been touched all night. Taking her leave of her misguided suitor, she meandered amongst the tables and standing patrons until she was at her friend's side, greeting Hawke with, "When I was younger, I wanted hair just like yours. Then I realized that that old saying is a lie. Brunettes can have just as much fun, if they know the right ways of going about it."

Hawke didn't smile. "Mother used to say that I favored her side of the family. 'The Amell beauty,' Carver used to call it when he was angry with me. He always made fun of my hair."

"Now why would he do that?" Isabela raised an eyebrow.

"Because I suspect that Mother liked that I looked like my grandmother," she explained idly, staring into her mug. "And Bethany was always Father's baby. And then there was Carver, caught between two mages, two favorites, and with nowhere to go."

"Well, you can't really blame him about being bitter. The only one he looks something like is Gamlen," replied Isabela with a shrug. "But beauty is beauty and one would think you've got enough of it to keep you happy."

She still didn't smile. "Is this your way of asking me why I'm sulking in the corner?"

"It's not 'sulking' exactly," replied Isabela, considering. "And it's not moping either. Oh, I know. You're brooding. In fact," she continued, tapping her index finger against her lower lip in thought, "you're brooding enough for Fenris and you put together. And, speaking of you and Fenris …"

"Don't." Hawke leaned forward until her forehead was pressed to the tabletop. "Not tonight, Isabela. Not after…" She grimaced against the wood, her eyes shut tight. "Please."

"Oh." Isabela stopped, stunned. "Oh. Oh, no, sweet thing." She swung her long legs over the bench and sat herself down beside her friend, patting Hawke on the shoulder. "Tell Isabela all about it. What has he done now?"

Hawke lifted her head from the table and shrugged, addressing the wall as she spoke because that was easier; Isabela knew the feeling. "It's not about what he did; it's about what we did," she answered. "And it's about me being stupid and expecting too much. Yes, it's about me being stupid."

"Wait a second, Hawke; let's get the facts straight before we start throwing blame around here, hey?" Isabela interjected quickly. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is…" Eyes half closed, she waved a hand helplessly through the air above the table and then pushed her fingers through her blonde hair. "What's going on is that Fenris and I…" She waved her hand about again and then, certain Isabela had gotten the message, continued, "And then he left."

There were rare moments when Isabela found she had nothing to say immediately and then this was one of them. And then, flatly: "Ass."

"Yeah." Hawke jerked her mug across the table toward her, apparently not caring about the amber liquid sloshing onto her fingers. She pulled the cup toward her but did not drink: a gesture that Isabela found absolutely pointless.

"Why?"

"He said that it made his memories come back," she shrugged. "He said it was all happening too fast for him."

"But why did you do it, Hawke?" Isabela wanted to know. "I mean, the sex must have been great but still… We all know how he acts."

"I don't know." She cradled her forehead in the curve between her thumb and index finger. "Maybe… maybe I thought it would make me feel… loved?"

Isabela snorted. "You should have gone to Anders if you wanted love. I'm sure he overuses that stupid word."

"Maybe I thought it would mean more with Fenris. Maybe I thought I could show him that not all mages are bad…"

"Hawke!" said Isabela sharply in objection. "You should know better. Never mix politics with sex! Just admit you wanted the man and be done with it."

"And what if I did?" Hawke snapped.

"I never said there was anything wrong with that," Isabela chuckled in response, swiping away Hawke's untouched drink for herself. "So I take it he won't be coming back."

"No."

"You'd think he'd want his memories back," she smirked before downing half of the cup's contents in one gulp. "Do you want him to come back?"

"Part of me wonders if I'm being even stupider worrying about my personal life while all goes to hell with the Qunari," said Hawke by way of reply. "If the blasted Arishok decides to slice off my head with that big sword of his because his Qun demands it, Fenris will be the last of my worries."

"That's beside the point, Hawke, and you're not nearly drunk enough to start rambling about nonsense." Isabela downed the rest of her purloined drink. "Do you want the man back or not? You have other options."

"What would you recommend?" Hawke asked her tonelessly, tracing the furrows in the table's wood with her index finger.

"You're a smart girl. Go home, get a good night's sleep, and think about it. But if you don't want Fenris, I'll have to start working on him for myself. 'Love' doesn't have to enter the equation for me."

"Do you threaten to steal everyone's lovers?"

"Some lovers you and Fenris are," Isabela snorted again in exasperation. "What, do you want me to tell you you're special?"

"Aveline, Isabela."

"Ah," she smiled at the not too distant memory. "Well, there was that."

"What am I supposed to do, Isabela?" Hawke finally dragged her gaze away from the table and focused on her friend. "I don't know why I started this with him. Maybe I shouldn't have. But I can't stop thinking about it. I've never had someone walk out on me like that. I thought he might've needed me," she continued, ignoring Isabela's snort of disbelief. "I thought that if he needed something it might as well be me."

"Hawke," Isabela smiled sympathetically. "You have a lot to learn, my dear."

"Apparently," Hawke smiled that bitter smile, a smile she would probably wear often going forward. "Look, all I know is that I wish… that I wanted to see if maybe we could have been something. And maybe we can't. Maybe I was stupid to think that we could. But it's alright. I can be alone."

"That's my girl." Her sympathetic smile suddenly turned wicked. "And, if you're ever lonely, I'm sure that elf with the blue eyes is still around at the Rose."

"Isabela!"

"What?"

…

A/N: Another update! I feel like I'm writing the Dragon Age version of "500 Days of Summer". Reviews are very encouraged! I love feedback.