13

"So… Rivaini, I've been trying to give you girls your privacy, but I've got to ask. This thing you've got going with Hawke, is it serious?"

Isabela swallowed her mouthful of mead, and looked at the dwarf appraisingly. "And what thing would that be, Varric?"

Varric scoffed. "Pfft, Isabela, you wound me! I may be short, but I'm not stupid! I live here too! How many times have you carried her to your bedroom this week? It's been twice, by my count, but, maybe I've missed a few? And I wouldn't exactly describe either of you as quiet!"

It was three times, actually, Isabela corrected in her head. It had been over six months since their first afternoon together, and now Isabela and Hawke made an excuse to be together most nights. If it wasn't Isabela taking a nice midnight "stroll" in Hightown, it was Hawke coming to The Hanged Man for an impromptu "drink." Since the weather had been better, Hawke had started taking Isabela on "patrols" around The Wounded Coast, which more often than not finished in both women being in some state of undress.

Isabela sighed. "No, Varric, not that it's any of your business, but Hawke and I have an arrangement. It's not serious…"

"None of my business? I think that every man in Kirkwall would like to make it their business! You two haven't been particularly discrete."

Isabela frowned. "You haven't started writing one of your stories about us, have you?"

Varric laughed. "Oh, perish the thought! The experienced, older, pirate, seduces the young, innocent, mage. Their legs intertwine, their bosoms heave, their lips merge. You're right, there wouldn't be an audience for that!"

Isabela had to concede that point, it was a good story. "You have me there. Can you at least give us some good pseudonyms? If I hear the tale of Isabelle and Harke, I will have to kill you, if only to spare you the torture that Hawke will inflict on you."

"Wow, you're pretty good at dancing around the question, Isabela. Seriously, what's going on with you two? The whole time we've lived here, you've had a pretty steady stream of friends visit your room. Now, it's mostly just Hawke. And when you do take a man to your room, you no longer shake the walls with your wailing. "

In truth, things had changed between her and Hawke. Hawke had quickly become the best lover that Isabela had ever experienced, her attentiveness and desire to please putting her head and shoulders above the rest. But it was more than that. Isabela found herself actually enjoying the mage's company, even when they weren't in bed. And, when they were bed, it had become common for them to lie around together, swapping stories, telling jokes and, occasionally, Isabela would let Hawke touch her in such a way that might be described as cuddling. When Isabela did take another new lover, which was becoming rarer and rarer, she felt a strange emptiness, and found that nobody else was able to completely satisfy her.

Isabela took a big swig of her mead, before confidently telling the lie. "It's nothing. She's a tiger in the sack, that's all. I feel nothing for her. Don't go reading into it, it's just sex."

Varric put up both his hands in surrender. "Hey, whatever you say, Rivaini. I don't want to interfere because, I mean, you and Hawke… hot! But, are you sure that Hawke feels the same way? She doesn't strike me as a girl that enters into these things lightly. And I've seen the way she looks at you…"

Isabela shifted uncomfortably and stared into her mead. "Hawke is a grown woman, Varric, not a fool, and not a child. You don't need to fawn over her like some distant father-figure. She knows exactly what's going on."

Varric shrugged and sighed. "Okay, I know when I'm overstepping a boundary. Fair enough. But, just please don't hurt her, Rivaini. She's a sweet kid, and she's known a lot of sadness in her life. I hope that you won't add to that. Be gentle with her."

"Yes Varric…" Isabela said, rolling her eyes.