"So, you're back."
Isabela dug the toe of her boot into the blood-soaked carpet and shrugged. "Looks like it."
Hawke shooed Anders away from his fussing over the great leaking wound in Hawke's midsection and pushed himself up off the stairs. He was good at hiding his pain, but Isabela winced at whatever she saw on his face.
"I don't know if you noticed," he ground out past the sense of bits of himself sliding in directions they weren't designed to go, "but while you were gone, we had a bit of a dust-up."
Isabela swept the room with a glance, taking in the Qunari bodies, the sodden carpet, the fallen Arishok, and brought her eyes back to Hawke again. "Looks like you handled it."
Behind Hawke, Aveline snorted, but Hawke silenced her with a gesture, never taking his eyes off of Isabela.
"I did. Now what am I going to do with you?"
Isabela took a single step forward and felt a slow smile spread as she tilted her head up to meet Hawke's eyes. "Handle me."