23

Hawke never came back to the tavern. Not seeing the mage for a month had been like a trip to the Void for Isabela. She had wanted to go after her. To take it all back, and say everything that she'd been holding back for so long. But she didn't. She stayed at the tavern, and went back to her life.

Hawke didn't seem to need Isabela's set of skills anymore, preferring, instead, to travel with Aveline and Fenris. Varric accompanied them sometimes too, when there were locks that needed to be picked, or traps that needed to be disarmed. He always came back looking guilty.

"Rivaini, what happened? You seemed so… happy…" he ventured after their sixth pint of the night.

"I am happy, Varric. I have booze, a bed, and a different man every night. This is the way life should be."

In reality, Isabela had never felt more lonely. The lovers she brought back to her bed often stank of gin and sweat. She refused to kiss them, not that they were interested in romance anyway. Most of them rolled over and fell asleep after a few minutes of riding her, before she woke them up and threw them out. She couldn't even bring herself to look at another woman, not yet.

Varric looked at her doubtfully. "I'm not going to pretend that I have a fetish for humans, but even I can see that Hawke is a very special girl. You must be hurting right now, I can certainly see that she is."

"Don't look at me like that, Varric. I am fine. Hawke… will be fine. It was past time. She was too young, too idealistic, too emotional. She doesn't belong with somebody like me, and I don't belong with somebody like her. We were kidding ourselves."

"Don't lie to a liar, Rivaini. You and I both know that you loved that girl."

Isabela considered the truth for a moment. Maybe it would feel good to say it out loud. But she resisted. "No. I don't fall in love, Varric. Hawke and I had our fun, but now it's done, and I don't miss her at all."

Varric pursed his lips. "I am so not convinced, Rivaini, but if this is the way you want it, then I'll leave it at that."

"Good. Now go and get us another pint. It's your turn to buy."

It was an unremarkable afternoon, Isabela had lost track of the days. She had woken up at midday, and started drinking soon after. The bartender often leered at her, after all the times he'd seen her with Hawke, but he gave her half priced drinks, so she put up with it. She was swaying, and considering the possibility that she may need to eat something, when a familiar voice rang out.

"Isabela! Isabela! Don't you dare ignore me!" Aveline bustled through the tavern, the crowd parting in her wake.

This was all Isabela needed. She rolled her eyes, "What is it, big girl? What have you come to lecture me on now?"

"Shut up Isabela, you stupid, loud mouthed, whore. I need to talk to you."

Isabela was stunned into silence. The captain of the guard had little patience for Isabela, but outright aggression was not Aveline's style. There had to be something wrong.

Aveline leaned on the bar. She was pale, and covered in a fine layer of sweat. She snatched Isabela's glass of whiskey, and downed it in one swig. "Maker's breath, how do you drink this shit?!"

Isabela looked at her empty glass with annoyance. "With great ease. Now, why are you here?"

"I… I'm trying to figure out what to say. I can barely believe what I've just seen. I've just been with Hawke. Leandra… Her mother… She's dead. She was murdered."

Isabela let the information sink in. Hawke's mother had been a total bitch, and Isabela could care less that she was dead. But she knew Hawke would be in a world of hurt. "I… what happened?"

"Hawke worked on a missing person's case a few years ago. She met a Templar, called Emmeric, who was convinced there was a serial killer abducting women."

Isabela nodded. "We found the bag of bones, yes, I remember."

"There was no evidence linking the women. I mean, these disappearances were spread out over five years, there was nothing I could do!"

Isabela shifted impatiently. "Yes, yes, Guard-Captain, save your posturing for someone who cares. Can you please just get to the part where Hawke's mother is dead?!"

"Yes, sorry. She went missing this morning. Hawke felt that something was off, so she came to me. We asked around Lowtown, and a street urchin told us that he'd seen Leandra with a gentleman who was bleeding heavily. We followed his blood, and we found them…"

"And?!" Isabela grew increasingly annoyed.

Aveline swallowed deeply, and wiped some of the sweat from her brow. "He was a necromancer. He'd been collecting the… parts… of those women, so that he could rebuild his dead wife. He used blood magic to bind them all together, and, he brought her back to life. Leandra was… the face. She died in Hawke's arms."

Isabela opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Hawke loved her mother, and they were the only family each other had. Isabela hadn't liked what Leandra had said to her, but she had respected that it had come from maternal love.

Aveline's voice cut through Isabela's thoughts. "I don't wish to partake in whatever foul games you've been playing with that child, but, she loves you. She'll listen to you. If you could just forget for one moment that you're a shallow, self-serving, slattern, I know that you could help her. She needs you right now…"

"How could I help? I've caused her more pain than the rest of you combined. You go, if you're such an expert on what she needs."

Aveline sighed, and looked Isabela in the eyes. "Don't play dumb with me. We both know that you were together with her for years. I saw you when you were around her. You were happy. You both were. I don't know why you insist on pretending it was for naught, but please, for one night, just drop the act."

"What would I even say? I'm not good with words."

"You don't need to say anything, Isabela. You know how to comfort her better than anybody."

Isabela inhaled, and closed her eyes. She did want to see Hawke. She didn't know if Hawke would even let her in, but she had to try. She opened her eyes and exhaled, looking at Aveline. She nodded. "I'll do it."