16
Isabela absentmindedly fiddled with the fertility talisman that she now kept in her pocket. She couldn't remember ever receiving a gift before in her life. Her mother had been too poor, her husband had been too cruel, and she'd never been close enough to anybody else.
It didn't mean anything. The wine, the chocolate, the gift, the fire. The slow, gentle way that Hawke had brought her to climax. The way Isabela had almost been convinced to sleep the night. It was all meaningless. And she was intent on proving that tonight.
He had black stubble and tough, thick hands. She didn't know his name, nor did it matter. She was full of ale, and she would be taking him upstairs with her. Hawke didn't own her, and she owed the mage no loyalty. The fact that it had been months since she'd bedded anyone else was due to sheer circumstance, not the fact that it made her feel guilty and dirty when she did.
He pushed her against her bedroom door, and lifted her in the air, pinning her in place. He unbuckled himself, and pushed her undergarments to the side. As he roughly entered her, she was disappointed to feel that his bravado about the size of his manhood had been for naught. He found a spot in the nook of Isabela's neck, and sucked it hard, leaving his mark. After a few minutes of pounding her against the door, he was spent, and he withdrew himself, buckling his pants back up.
Isabela stood against the door, wondering why she'd bothered. He leaned in for a kiss on his way out, and she jerked away quickly, slamming the door behind him. She lay in her bed, looking at the ceiling. She felt nauseous, and not from the ale she'd drunk. The guilt churned in her belly, making it difficult for her to sleep.
Isabela had a cloud hanging over her the next day. She didn't know what was wrong with her. So she'd rutted somebody else? Big deal. It hadn't been any good, anyway.
Isabela felt a flicker of panic in her chest as Hawke walked into the tavern that afternoon. The mage greeted her with a smile.
"Hello, pretty girl. I haven't seen you for a few days. I was hoping we could make up for lost time…" she went to kiss her favourite place on Isabela's neck, and violently pulled away when she saw the love bite.
Isabela lowered her head and closed her eyes with shame.
"I… umm… I didn't realise that you were still… doing that…" Hawke's voice became clouded with emotion, and she cleared her throat. "I hope you enjoyed yourself, Isabela" she finished coolly.
Isabela forced herself to look Hawke in the eyes, and was confronted by a face full of hurt and confusion. "I didn't" she said in a rare moment of honesty.
Hawke crossed her arms over her chest, the pain written on every feature. "I scared you, with the name-day stuff, didn't I?"
Isabela nodded tersely.
"This was a good lesson. Now I know what happens when somebody actually treats you well. Thank you for being such a good teacher" Hawke spat out bitterly.
"I'm sorry, Hawke…" Isabela said, barely above a whisper.
"No you're not. And I have things to do. Worthwhile things. I shouldn't have come here. Excuse me." Hawke stormed through the tavern and out of the door.