21
It was rare for Fenris to host a social gathering. No, not rare. Unheard of. But celebrating his freedom was worth breaking a lifetime of anti-social behaviour. Isabela poured a large glass of whiskey and took a seat next to Merrill, while a rather tipsy Fenris re-enacted his defeat of his former master, Denarius. Isabela only half watched, she'd already heard the story from Hawke.
"I think Hawke really likes you" Merrill said suddenly.
"What? Why do you say that?" Isabela asked innocently.
"Well, she's always looking at you, and then quickly turning away when you notice. She blushes around you a lot, as well. And I suppose all that sex that you two have been having is probably a good sign, too…"
Isabela's jaw dropped, and Merrill continued. "Oh, Isabela, don't be embarrassed. Did you really think that people hadn't noticed? You must think we're all fools!"
"No... I don't think you're fools. Well, yes actually, I was rather hoping you were all too stupid to notice."
Merrill giggled. "Well, we have noticed. Don't be shy. Hawke is beautiful and amazing, and so are you. I think you two will be very happy together."
"It's not like that, Kitten. We're not… together. We're just… entertaining each other. It means nothing."
Merrill eyed Isabela off suspiciously. "It's certainly been going on for a long time, for something that means nothing. Two years, by my count. And Varric says that you stopped taking other lovers quite a while ago…"
"Did he now? Well, I'll need to remember to have a little chat about privacy with Varric later, won't I?"
"Isabela, are you blushing? I'm your friend. I'm glad that you've found love."
"I am not in love, Merrill. I could tell you stories about Hawke that would curl your toes. She's a shadow-wolf behind closed doors, and that's all there is to it. Now, if you're done with this silliness, I'm getting another drink."
It was true. They had been seeing each for over two years, an unheard of feat for Isabela. She had only taken a handful of lovers since the name-day fiasco, and none at all for almost half a year. It had been simple common sense, and wasn't at all based on feelings, or some sense of monogamy. Why go to a stranger for bad sex, when I can go to Hawke for good sex?, had been her reasoning. Of course, Isabela never planned on telling Hawke that she was her only lover, and even if she had, Hawke would never have believed her.
Her and Hawke had been together every night, for… Isabela couldn't even remember the last day that had passed without her bedding Hawke. She still insisted to everyone, including herself, that it was just sex, but by now, even she knew better. She'd never known intimacy like it. It went beyond sex, although having someone that knew her body inside and out certainly had its benefits in that department. She told Hawke things that she had never told anybody, and Hawke listened patiently to every word. She thought about Hawke, even when they weren't together, and when they were together, she felt… content.
She glanced across the room at Hawke, who was deep in conversation with Anders. Hawke felt Isabela's gaze upon her, and shot a wink in her direction. Isabela felt a flutter in her belly. I am in a sodding relationship, the realisation hit her. Balls... I need more to drink...
Isabela opened her eyes. Beams of light poured in through the gap in the curtain, and she immediately registered a splitting headache. Her stomach churned with nausea as she propped herself up onto her elbows and, through bleary eyes, tried to take in her surroundings.
She was naked and in somebody else's bed. She looked around and realised it was Hawke's room. Her clothes and boots were folded at the foot of the bed, and there was a glass of water sitting on the bedside table beside her. She gulped it down thirstily, before sitting up and gingerly dressing herself. She hadn't had a hangover like this in years. Snippets of memories came to her mind, but she realised she had no recollection of getting to the Hawke Estate, or of sleeping with Hawke. She pulled her boots on, and was about to try to stand, when Hawke quietly entered the room.
"Oh good, you're awake. I was just coming to check on you. How's your head?" Hawke smiled, holding out a glass that was full of a green, creamy liquid.
"It feels like I had a herd of Brontos trampled it. And what is this?" Isabela reached for the glass, her voice coming out a rasp.
"I made you some elfroot syrup, for the headache. I had the feeling you might need it."
"What… happened? Last night, I mean. I don't remember much" Isabela asked. She downed the elfroot syrup, which tasted much like it looked, spoiled cream mixed with grass. But the headache started to recede within moments.
Hawke shrugged. "You had too much to drink. Aveline helped me carry you out, and my house was closer than the tavern. I hope you don't mind?"
Isabela inwardly flinched at the thought that Aveline had seen her so drunk. Even more reason for the mannish ginger to disapprove of her. "No, that's okay. I woke up naked. Did we…?"
Hawke shook her head. "No. You woke up for long enough to take your clothes off and ask me to 'steer your ship', but you were in no state. I promise, I was a perfect lady. I even slept on the couch."
Isabela looked at Hawke curiously. Hawke hadn't asked her to sleep the night for a long time, but Isabela knew that she would've liked the opportunity.
"Why did you sleep on the couch? You shouldn't have let me kick you out of your bed."
Hawke laughed softly. "Because I want the first time that you actually sleep in a bed with me to be consensual."
Isabela ignored that. Sleeping in bed with Hawke would mean that the last of Isabela's resistance had crumbled, and she wouldn't allow that to happen. "I'm sorry Hawke, I normally hold my liquor well. I don't know what happened."
Hawke shrugged. "It's okay. You were no trouble. Now, if you want to follow me, I'll make you some breakfast."
Isabela's stomach turned at the idea of food, but she was feeling too weak to resist, so she allowed Hawke to lead her by the hand, down the stairs and into the dining room. An attractive, middle aged woman was already sitting at the head of the table, spooning oats into her mouth.
"Good morning, Mother. I hope you slept well. This is my friend, Isabela. Isabela, this is my mother, Leandra."
Isabela nodded respectfully. "It's nice to meet you."
"Oh hello, Isabela. My daughter has told me so much about you" the older woman greeted Isabela with an insincere courtesy and a phoney smile plastered across her face.
"Take a seat, Bela. I'll get you something to eat. I'll just be a moment." Hawke pulled out a seat at the table for Isabela, and exited through the door to the kitchen.
There was an awkward silence that Isabela felt inexplicably determined to fill. "Your home is lovely…" she said awkwardly.
Leandra's blue eyes locked on Isabela's. Hawke was certainly her mother's daughter, the family resemblance was striking. The mother's face was slightly lined, and her hair was grey, but Isabela was essentially looking at the 50 year old version of Hawke. "Let's not waste time with small talk, Isabela. I assume that you are the rather indiscreet girl who has been warming my daughter's bed for the past few years? Is that accurate?"
Isabela tried not to let the shock show on her face. The older woman had certainly caught her off guard, but Isabela was not one to back down when challenged, so she maintained eye contact. For a moment, she considered telling a lie, but the set look on Leandra's face told Isabela that dishonesty would gain her nothing.
"Aye, that's me. What of it?" she asked, letting a cocky smirk dance on her lips.
Leandra sat back in her seat as her eyes narrowed in appraisal. "You are not what I expected. You are pretty, I will give you that, and I suppose you carry yourself with a certain confidence that one may find enticing. But you are older than I'd imagined, and I'd always thought that my daughter would be attracted to someone a bit more… refined…"
Isabela shrugged. "From what I've heard, you were attracted to a penniless, fugitive, apostate, so maybe good taste doesn't run in the family?"
A bitter smile spread across the older Hawke's face. "Yes, and you've been attracted to a very wealthy apostate. Right when you seem to be down on your luck, and without a ship. What am I to read into that?"
Isabela shook her head. "That's not what this is about. You don't even know me."
"No, I don't know you. But I know my daughter, and you are beneath her. She has been intimate with you for over two years, to the exclusion of all others, and yet you are still unwilling to commit to her. Why? She is kind, she is fair of face, she quite obviously has the ability to please you, based on what I've heard through the walls at night. You clearly want something from her. You seem to be bereft of money, and my daughter has plenty. I'm sure you can see where I am going with this…"
"If coin was what I was after, I would have cut her throat and robbed her the first night that she invited me into her bed."
Leandra seemed to accept that, nodding curtly. "So, if not money, what is it you are after, Isabela? What exactly are your intentions with my only living daughter? She has rejected two marriage matches this month alone, and she is getting too old to waste time. Maker, I was married with three children by the time I was her age..."
Isabela froze under the weight of the question. What do I want from Hawke? Marriage, children, picket fences and baked apple pies? Two years ago, Isabela could have answered that question easily. She wanted to rut Hawke until the girl could no longer stand. But now... she wasn't sure what the answer was.
Leandra was searching her face, so Isabela barreled through her next sentence with the same answer she'd been giving people for two years. "I have no intentions with your daughter. This is a fling. It has no meaning. When we are done with each other, she will go her way, and I will go mine."
Leandra cocked her head, and her eyes bore into Isabela. "If you seriously believe that, then you do not know my daughter very well. She is a serious young woman, surely you have seen that? And she is serious about you. She thinks that I am a blind fool, and deaf too, apparently, but I am none of those things. I know about you and her, and I know that she is in love with you. If I thought she was capable of this frivolity, I would let her have her fun with you without interference. But she is not. She needs to find a husband, a good one. Somebody who will shout her name from the rooftops, not sneak into her bedroom in the dead of the night. You are holding her back with this... dalliance."
Isabela had heard enough, and she angrily leaned forward in her chair. "If Hawke wishes to lie beneath some fat lordling and carry his whelps, she is free to do so. I make no claims on her. But until that time, I suggest you keep your meddling to yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, I've lost my appetite."
Leandra smirked. "Noted. I recommend that you think on what I've said though. If you care for her at all, you'll let her go."
"Shut up" Isabela said as she pushed the chair away from the table and stormed out of the dining room, not looking back to see the look of utter satisfaction on Leandra Hawke's face.