Bethany gripped her staff tightly, watching from the sidelines. She could only hear snippets of the conversation; mostly revolving around the fact that Hayder wanted something from Isabela, Isabela didn't have it, and something about cargo. But from what she gathered, slaves had been involved.
Her stomach turned sickly. The idea of slaves? No, she couldn't imagine being part of a slave-trade. A part of her warmed at the idea of Isabela setting free the slaves,though the rest of knew there was more to the tale. There had to be. Why did she have Slaves in the first place?
Awkwardly, beside her, Anders weight shifted as he leant against his staff.
Bethany's eyes narrowed as Hayder's right hand woman stepped closer, scowling at Isabela threateningly. She didn't like the woman, didn't like how she scowled. It was unsettling, even if she couldn't hear what was being said.
Isabela reached behind her, pulling out a hidden dagger before throwing it sharply towards the woman. Startled, Bethany watched as the right-hand fell to her knees, shocking Hayder still only temporarily before he drew his broadsword.
There was no time to think, the sound of metal clamored the Chantry but she was too far back to hit anyone with her spells. Running, she moved closer, keeping to sidelines to aim her staff. Anders however, remained behind, spindling a trap before Bethany could twist her magic into fire. As the fight broke out, she hurdled a flame ball towards the clustered group, satisfied as the group divided, flying in different directions.
The others, all who'd drawn their swords, or in Isabela's case, her daggers, attacked the separated group, keeping most of them from trying to attack her or Anders.
Bethany felt a spell sparked sideways from the other mage, hitting two men. Awkwardly, one of the spelled-men bounced off Hayder before stumbling back into a pillar. It would have been more amusing if it hadn't distracted her from those who weren't caught in battle.
Shit.
Bethany yelped as one of the men sprung forward, awkwardly, an ice attack slipped from her fingertips. It'd meant to freeze him solid, but the attack was blundered and he fell backwards, only shivering from the cold as he shook off the stunned attack. However, it was enough for her to wack him with her staff, throwing sparks towards his eyes, and burning his sword hand.
Bethany hit him again, her lungs constricting tightly as she used the last of her pent up magic to properly freeze him. A final thwack made him brittle, sending him rushing to the ground where the ice broke into pieces and leaving his body dead from the fast attacks.
Panting, she fumbled for a potion, swallowing it for the rush of magic that spun through her. It was refreshing, exhilarating and sweet, like a drink after a long days work in the field. She tossed the empty bottle away from her before looking over the battlefield.
If it could be called that.
Isabela's laugh rang through the Chantry, bouncing off the pillars and walls. Her brother's grunts were in between hers and Aveline's battle cry, a hard masculine difference in tone. Bethany grinned, taking a moment to breathe before she threw a spell towards her brothers way, stunning his attacker. Behind her, she could feel Anders' presence, the familiar hum of magic that flashed past her in a bolt towards an incoming attack.
"Bethany-!"
She turned, too late as a the hilt of a sword crashed down into her head. Falling backwards, she skidded on the ground as her staff rolled from her fingertips.
What happened?
Dizzily her head swam, exploding with pain. Forcing her eyes open, she could see Anders form, surrounded by mercenaries, and from behind her, she could hear the others calling out taunts, still locked in attacks with Hayder and any of his men left standing. It was with a dull awareness Bethany realized that the reinforcements must have swarmed through the Chantry front door.
'Always have your exits covered,' she heard her father's voice ring through her head.
Looking at the two men coming at her, she felt her hands desperately scavenge for her staff, needing to feel it beneath her fingers for focus. Without the runed wood, her attacks were weakened and wild.
She glanced quickly left and right. From the corner of her eye, she could see her staff. It'd rolled to the other side of the hall, against the large, closed wooden doors. Even if she ran, she couldn't reach it in time.
Flicking her eyes back, her heart stopping as she watched one man raise a sword, intending to drive it down into her belly. She had time for a thought, a wish as all her doubts and fears became meaningless. There was just that, just the sword be driven down.
Bethany watched in horror, frozen by her fear as he plunged forward. There was a flash, metal whistling against the air as he brought it down, before it clashed into something else. Bethany shuddered out as a breath as Isabela's boots caught her eyes, her thigh muscle straining against the pressure of pushing her dagger against the sword.
Thank the Maker, she almost sobbed, a hand curling up over her heart.
"Now, that's no way to play nice. Poor thing had lost her weapon."
The man growled as Bethany flushed, scrambling backwards. She tensed hitting something metallic hard. Before she could yelp or even tremble, she felt her brother's worried hands lift her back off the ground, from his boots, as Aveline's shield clashed against the other man's sword.
Isabela dropped sideways, ducking beneath the sword. Bethany watched, her brother's hands still protectively around her, as the pirate kicked out the man's knees from him. As he fell, she drove her dagger between the gap of his helmet and armor through the back of his neck. A gutted sound came out, blood spluttering from his mouth as Isabela then twisted and yanked her dagger out.
The man fell as many of the others had, harshly towards the ground where a slow pool of blood began to form. Still shuddering from fear, Bethany felt her thoughts wonder what the Chantry sisters would feel when they saw such a blasphemous mess.
Would they scream or cry? Maybe the templars would find it first and clean it up before the sisters rose to the area. She hoped so.
Lifting her eyes, she watched as Isabela turned around, finding herself without anyone to fight as Aveline took the last man down.
Silence fell over them thickly and Bethany shivered, feeling the leather of her brother's gloves squeeze her shoulders. Shamefully, she tugged from his grip and ran for her staff, clutching it to her. The runes were rough on her hand, familiar. She wouldn't lose it again.
She couldn't.
Tiredly, she looked up from her staff, over to the central hall of the Chantry where Hayder laid dead. Isabela must have killed him, then ran for the next attack. But she hadn't seen it play out. Someone else may have killed him. However it happened, she was thankful for Isabela's sudden appearance in front of her.
"Are you okay?" Aveline asked her.
Bethany nodded, healing herself quietly. She could almost hear her brother mumbling that she should have gone, stayed away from this fight. Casting her eyes to him, she silently warned against saying any words. She may have lost that fight, but she wouldn't let her brother take away any shred of dignity she had left.
"That went well," Isabela remarked, cleaning blood from her daggers before holstering them. Bethany didn't stay to watch as the pirate swaggered over to Garret, her eyes still gleaming from the fight. Instead, she turned away, inclining to busy herself with looting.
She didn't want her brother's or Isabela's eyes on her, she didn't need to see them looking down at her with pity, or patronizing worry. Her stomach twisted at the thought.
"It wasn't your fault, you know," Anders whispered as she dug through the pockets of a half burnt man. His flesh was peeling around his eyes where the spell had hit him strongest. "That could have been me, as well."
"You didn't fall on your ass," she replied. "Or lose your staff. Who does that?" she shook her head, biting her tongue. Mages held onto their staff like a warrior held onto their swords. Tighter, possibly. A warrior could still just as strongly cause damage with his hands. Bethany was feeble without her staff. She hadn't practiced her spells enough to focus them for an unarmed attack.
"I could teach you," Anders said. "Some basics in open hand attacks."
"Like magic?"
He smiled, nodding at her. "Would you like that?"
Bethany felt breath shake at kindness, and slowly she nodded, "Very much so."
"Alright, we'll make a plan. Some time when neither of us are busy. I'll lend you a few books to read over first, sometimes theory helps before practice."
"T-thank you," she murmured before self-consciously asking, "are you sure it wouldn't be too much trouble?"
Anders shrugged, "working with the Wardens made it a necessity to learn, before then I was much the same. I don't mind passing on some skills to others. Especially pretty Hawke's."
Bethany blushed at the words, feeling herself beam at the kindness.
"What are you talking about?" Garret asked, walking over to where Hayder's body was. Bethany lifted her head, turning to where Isabela had left. She hadn't even heard the Chantry doors open and close again, but the pirate was nowhere in sight. "Oh! Good find in gold here. Before you know it, we'll be halfway through the Deep Roads!" he grinned.
Anders shuddered at the words. "You really don't like the Deep Roads, do you?" Bethany asked, pocket the few silvers she found.
"They're not a pleasant place."
"I know."
"You really don't." The words were not said unkindly, but Bethany went quiet. Awkwardly she fiddled before turning to focus where Aveline stood. She just wanted a few drinks, wanted tonight to be over so she didn't blunder up any more fights or conversations. Of course, she didn't know. How could she even think to try and understand the Deep Roads?
Maker, she was having a bad day.
"Here," Bethany said, handing Aveline half the coins she'd looted. "I'm sure the city guard would appreciate having these men dead."
Aveline's mouth set in a hard line. "That they would, but not like this."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about, you didn't ask me to come along. Hawke did." Bethany turned to where her brother was. Feeling her eyes, he beamed back at her, showing off a dagger he'd found on Hayder.
"He's an idiot sometimes," Bethany murmured.
"That he is. But he means well." Sighing, she shook her head. "Keep the money, Bethany. I'm sure you could use it for something nice. Perhaps new boots?"
Bethany flushed, looking down at her boots. "I was hoping to get them repaired," she murmured. "but new boots would be nice as well." If she was truthful, she didn't really want to part with them. When they'd left Ferelden, they'd done so with few possessions. She didn't want to give up something she held strong memories of home with.
But if her brother kept leading her into jobs such as this, then perhaps new boots would do her some wonders. Maybe she could keep these as a vase or somewhere to store some valuables.
"Come on!" Garret spoke, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "First round's on me."
"After that, I think all rounds are on you, brother," she teased, pointing to where Aveline stood. Garret flushed, laughing awkwardly.
"All rounds it is then. Ah, sorry for ruining your evening, Aveline." Bethany kicked him, "and Anders," he added quickly.
"It'll be fine, Hawke. Next time, warn me about the pirate," the guard said, shaking her head. "When did you stoop so low as to help out pirates?" Bethany's jaw clenched, but out of respect she didn't say anything. What proof did she have? She admired Isabela but that wasn't enough.
"Aww, Aveline. You say that like I had standards to begin with."
"You do," she shot back. "Or at least I thought you did."
"At this state, anything to get out from living with Gamlen is worth a shot."
"I'm sure it is."
"I just want a drink," Anders muttered. Bethany nodded, agreeing. Though she hoped that this time, there wouldn't be any more fights.
Thankfully, the walk back to the Hanged Man was uninterrupted. A casual stroll with friends at night, if anything. Though she suspected walking with a guard helped ward off those who may have felt even a twitch of an urge to go up against them.
"Here," Bethany said, taking her brother's coin purse as they entered the tavern. Quickly she divided a few silvers from the rest and handed back the coins. "I'll look after our money and you can spend that on drinks for everyone."
Garret raised an eyebrow. "Giving me an allowance now?"
"It'd do you good," Aveline said. "The way you drink, you'd spend more than a few gold pieces on ale in one night."
"But it would be a worthy night."
Aveline snorted in reply, allowing Anders to pass by her to the stairs. Bethany followed, turning only to look back at her brother. He was not only bee-lining for the bar, but also towards where Isabela was drinking. "Is he going to talk to her again?" she asked. A part of her hoped she would join them for conversation. She bet Isabela had a thousand tales that could rival her books.
"He does seem to be quite taken by her," Anders commented.
Bethany blinked, shaking her head. "No, he's like that with most people. He enjoys flirting," she assured. Aveline shook her head in mild amusement.
"Well I hope he has some standards when it comes to who he sleeps with, then." Bethany sighed, shrugging. She didn't know. Her brother told crude tales, but actual truths? She had no idea who he'd slept with. She didn't care to learn either.
Tearing her eyes away, she followed the others back to Varric's room, smiling as he looked up from his works. "Are you working on another tale?" she asked.
"Depends. Tell me about your evening," he grinned. "I'm sure I can make a good story from that. With a few twists, of course."
"These twists wouldn't happen to include a minotaur, would they?" Anders asked. "I liked that one, even if the 'warden mage' didn't get nearly enough time in the fable."
"Well, it is Hawke's tales of heroism, I'm sure the Wardens tell some of yours. And no, you can't use particular fantastical beasts more than once, otherwise the audience gets suspicious. I'm sure people would believe a giant snake, however. No...why would a pirate ask you to fight a snake?" He paused, rubbing his chin in thought. "A griffon doesn't work either…"
"A sea snake guarding treasures, however," Isabela's voice rang from the doorway, "makes far more sense." Bethany flinched at the words, before slowly turning to smile up at the woman. Beside her, Aveline muttered darkly under her breath.
"You, I like," Varric chuckled, "Hawke, are you keeping her around?"
Behind her, Garret sidestepped forward with a pitcher of ale and a few mugs piled in grip. "She offered her services, I'm inclined to keep her around. Be handy to have someone good with daggers."
"I'm blushing from such a compliment," she said, laughing as Garret nearly stumbled. "Careful now, that's good ale you're wasting."
"Now that is a joke," Anders replied.
"Well, you're lucky then. You don't have to drink any," Garret snipped, setting down the pitcher. Anders grasped at a mug, giving a half-hearted attempt at a glare as he carefully poured everyone a drink. Hawke proudly smirked, "Apology accepted."
"So I take it those stories you've been telling aren't all truthful then," Isabela said, taking a seat down beside Bethany as Garret sat across from her. "Such a shame, here I was thinking the four of you went up against an ogre and an army of darkspawn."
"That parts true!" Bethany said, "Well, mostly true. We hadn't met Anders then. We were still running from Lothering when the Blight hit."
Intrigued, Isabela's eyes turned on her, looking her up and down. "You must be the sister, I take it?" Your much prettier than the stories described." Bethany's cheeks heated over the words, amusing Isabela. Quickly, in embarrassment, she buried her nose in the mug, taking in a deep drink of ale.
Garret however, had turned to look curiously at Varric. "How do you tell the ogre story?"
"Depends on the crowd," he shrugged. "But no matter how I tell it, they all get a kick out of you meeting Flemeth. Dragon-shape shifters tend to be a crowd please."
Garret laughed, shaking his head. Aveline however, didn't find it so amusing. "I didn't like her," she muttered. "There was something sinister about her."
"But she helped us," Bethany tried.
"Helping people doesn't make you good. And it wasn't like she did it for free."
Bethany frowned, puzzled until she remembered. Feeling nauseous at the realization, she turned to Garret. "You know, brother. We never did deliver that necklace. You didn't sell it by accident did you?"
"You never got around to handing that over the Dalish?" Aveline asked, surprised. "Hawke! Wronging a Witch of the Wilds is a very dangerous thing to do. I would have thought you'd have that done, months ago."
Awkwardly, he flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck as his gaze switched between Aveline and Bethany. "It's been on my to-do list for a while. I just...haven't had the time to get around doing it."
"You need to do it immediately."
"She's right, Hawke," Varric spoke. "Even I'd be wary of wronging her. Angering a woman that can turn into a dragon is about as clever as stealing from a pirate. Probably less so."
From the corner of her eye, Bethany noticed Isabela's eyebrows raise, but the woman didn't say anything. Instead she took a mouthful of ale and reclined back in the chair, running her own eyes over the assorted people at the table.
"What would you have me do? Leave now?" Garret asked.
"Yes," Aveline said the same time Anders muttered, "No."
"Tomorrow," Bethany jumped in, quickly. "We'll leave tomorrow."
"Well, I can't go," Aveline said, "I have patrols to attend to."
"I have to work at the Clinic, I can't leave it unattended for too long," Anders jumped in before Garret's eyes could turn to his.
Unhappy, Garret looked over the table. "That leaves us short a person. I guess the three of us…" he paused, focusing on Isabela suddenly. "Care for an adventure?" he asked, grinning at her broadly. Bethany hadn't noticed before, but Anders may have been right, Garret had become rather fond of Isabela quickly. She sincerely hoped that the light flirting was his own nature and not to do with his feelings jumping so easily from Anders to her.
Isabela blinked up from her mug to find the whole table looking down at her. "What's happening?"
"Tomorrow, we're going to Sundermount to give the Dalish, Flemeth's necklace," Bethany explained. "Would you care to join us?"
"We could really use another melee person."
Isabela's eyes looked out at the group curiously. "Isn't that nearly a day's walk each way?" she asked.
"I'm sure you've done a fair amount of walking yourself," Aveline spoke sharply. Bethany nearly choked on her drink at the words, surprised by the tone.
Isabela, however, seemed mildly perplexed before, shaking her head. "Tomorrow," she said. "Unlike man-jaw and the healer here, I have some time to waste."
"I'm sure you do," Bethany heard Aveline whisper.
"Wonderful!" Garret burst in as Isabela's eyes narrowed down at the guards woman. "We could really use someone of your skills."
Bethany side-eyed Aveline wearily. Usually she was more welcoming, or at least, open to newcomers such as Varric and Anders. As her brother began forming a plan, she turned to face the red-head. "What's wrong?"
"Hmm?"
"You and Isabela don't seem to get along."
Aveline shook her head. "It's nothing," she smiled, though her lips curved rather stiffly.
"It's not nothing," Bethany whispered. Aveline waved her hand, finishing the drink in grip. Instead of pouring herself another, she pushed the mug away.
"Another time," she murmured. "I think I've stayed long enough for this evening."
Quickly, Bethany rose too. "Did you want company, back?"
"It's quite all right," she smiled. "Stay with your brother. I'll see you in a few days if you manage to keep out of trouble."
Bethany chuckled, "we'll try. Good night Aveline. Have a good day tomorrow."
"You too."
When Aveline had left, Isabela turned to face her with brows knotted curiously. "Is she always like that or am I stepping in between something with her and Hawke?"
Bethany frowned, confused. "Her and Hawke?"
"Wouldn't be the first time I'd interrupted a drawn-out battle of romance between two people," Isabela shrugged. "Though I figured Hawke for more a-"
"No! Maker, no. It's nothing like that." She laughed, shaking her head at the idea of Aveline and her brother. The two were too different, they'd clash horribly in a relationship. "I think it's just been a long day. She really only planned on a drink for this evening." Smiling, Bethany looked down at her own. The ale tasted horrid, worse than the stuff she had in Lothering, but it was still better than nothing.
Isabela, however, seemed to find no problem with it, and even went for a second cup full, topping Bethany's up before the young mage had even finished her first cup. "Drink up," she said, winking at her. "With the nasty hit you took, you'll feel better for it."
Absentmindedly, Bethany brushed over where a bruise was forming. There were some thing magic couldn't fix. At least hers. Isabela was right, unless she had Anders fix it, it would hurt tomorrow.
It was annoying. She'd been the only one to take a direct hit. Even Isabela, who wasn't wearing armor like her brother or Aveline, came out with only a minor scratch on her bicep. Perhaps pirating made her used to battle. Or maybe Anders had healed her without her noticing.
"Are you really a pirate?" Bethany asked suddenly.
"Hmm?"
"You mentioned you were a Captain of a ship before."
"Ah, yes." Isabela smiled rather bittersweetly as she leant back on her chair. "All true. Such a shame really. She was a lovely ship. I knew every piece of wood in her. And then some," she chuckled. Bethany's eyes adverted awkwardly at the comment.
In the background, she could hear her brother chatting adamantly with Anders and Varric over stories from their youth. It was with sudden recognition that she noticed her and Isabela were suddenly the only women at the table.
Which wasn't to say, all that much. Out of five, they made two, but it felt like a bigger difference in numbers as she sat besides the woman.
Isabela was so grande; relaxed and yet provocatively poised as she drank her ale and smiled. It didn't even seem purposeful, she just naturally was like, it seemed. Bethany however, felt as though she was just...Bethany.
"It must be different," she commented to Isabela, "staying at a tarvern instead of on a ship."
"They both have their charms," Isabela shrugged. "On a ship you have to ration things carefully, make sure your crew doesn't overtake their share. At a city, you look out for yourself. There's always something to eat, until a famine strikes. But Kirkwall seems to have enough trade that it doesn't have to worry."
"Which do you prefer?"
Isabela paused, mulling over her thoughts carefully before she answered. "I miss my ship an awful lot. You get used to rise and fall over wave until flat land feels more disorientating than the ships movements. That and sex is more fun on a ship," She grinned, tilting her head to watch Bethany closely. "There are so many fun things on a ship and that's before you get out sailing. The things I could show you…" Isabela sighed wistfully.
The young mage, however, felt her cheeks go starling red again at the comment. "I see," she murmured. "Did you...have someone?" she asked. It must have been the alcohol that made her bold enough to ask such a question.
"There was my crew," Isabela noted. "Though I tend to keep them away. Generally I picked up people up when we were docked. Sometimes they paid their way for a trip elsewhere, though people who tend to trust pirates, usually only do so in dire situations. It does make for an interesting bed partner or two if they think that at any moment they might die."
"Or...two?" Bethany whispered.
Taking a sip of the ale, Isabela shrugged. "Two, more. It all depended on the situation. Why? Have you only had a single partner in bed? It can be quite fun with two, especially if you're in the middle," she grinned predatorily, making Bethany's head swim as images pulled in her mind.
Quickly, she grabbed her own drink, suddenly finding herself intrigued by Varric's conversation about the first time he used a crossbow. Isabela's laugh rang in her ear, heating her inside out with embarrassment. She was not the dashing pirate off to save a sea-abandoned damsel, as her books described the roguish Captains.
Author's Note: Just wanted to make it very clear that I actually really strongly support Aveline/Hawke depending on the person's Hawke. Personally, I'd think Aveline would find *my* Garret Hawke entirely too frustrating to even CONSIDER dating, though he does make a truly loyal friend.