34

Apparently, word still travelled fast around Kirkwall. It was early evening and Isabela leaned on the bar, talking to the bartender. She was in the middle of telling him a joke, when his eyes focused on somebody behind her, and he bowed his head respectfully. A familiar, flowery scent overcame Isabela.

"So it's true. You are back…" The unmistakable Fereldan drawl of Hawke interrupted the punch line.

Isabela froze mid-sentence, before slowly and stiffly turning around to face her former lover. She commanded her eyes to stay on course and make eye contact only, but they disobeyed and immediately scanned Hawke from head to toe. She was in tight fitting robes, as always, and she'd filled out again, her body curving in all the right places. She'd grown her hair out past the shoulder length that it used to sit at, and it now flowed dramatically, sleek and clean, halfway down her back. There was a light pink scar across the bridge of Hawke's nose, a permanent reminder of her battle with the Arishok. It suited her, adding a small point of difference in the otherwise symmetrical face.

Isabela instantly felt her pulse start to race as her heart beat relentlessly in her chest, and her stomach became a ball of nerves. She had truly not believed that Hawke could have such a physical effect on her.

She gathered herself together, put her shoulders back confidently, and said, "Don't get used to it. I'm here for business, not pleasure. I should be back on a boat to Orlais by the end of the week."

Hawke's face creased into a slight frown at the mention of Orlais, a common response from any Fereldan. "Orlais? You ran off to Orlais?"

"No. I've been many places, that's just my most recent posting."

Hawke moved closer to Isabela, and put her back to the bar. "Well, wherever you've been, it's good to see that your alcoholism has paid off. All that pickling has kept you quite well preserved, considering your age. You look well."

Isabela stiffened at the slight. "As do you. The Champion of Kirkwall, what a fancy new title. Are you still a glorified errand girl?"

Hawke smiled bitterly. "Yes, I am. Funny story actually, I'm still cleaning up after that little Qunari incident you started. Thanks for that, by the way. I think my favourite part was when you fucking abandoned me at the Keep. That was classy."

Isabela felt the anxiety in her belly start to make way for anger. "Three years later and you're still talking about it? Glad to see I haven't missed out on much, then."

Hawke drummed her fingers on the bar. "Ah yes, running away from your problems and deferring responsibility. How very like you."

Hawke was here to fight with her. Isabela remembered this dance well. "Oh my, that's a sharp tongue you've got there, Hawke. I'm glad it was a lot softer when it was getting used on me."

"Ha. Less than five minutes into a conversation and you're already being vulgar. Your time away has obviously not been full of self-reflection and personal growth, I take it?"

"What of it? Was I meant to stay here and be schooled in bitterness by you? Why are you here, Hawke, or have you seriously just come down here to fight with me?"

Hawke straightened up and wiped the smug look off her face. "No, I didn't come here with the intention to argue. I let my anger get away from me. I... apologise. I heard a rumour that you were back, and I came to see if it was true. I didn't know if you were dead or alive or - "

"Well, well, well, fancy seeing you back here. Slipping it to my niece again, I see. Should've known you just can't handle a man." The mead stenched breath wafted past Isabela's nostrils as a skinny arm slunk around her waist.

Isabela felt her skin crawl under the touch. "I've told you before Gamlen, I don't bed the elderly. Now run along and leave Hawke and I in peace."

Hawke frowned furiously at her Uncle. "Now? You've ignored me for three years, and you decide to speak to me now?!"

"I'm not speaking to you, kinslayer, I'm speaking to your whore. All these years she's wasted doing... whatever it is that you two do in bed together, when anybody can see that she's desperate for a stiff one."

Isabela inhaled sharply. She actually felt a moment of pity for Hawke. With the apparent exception of Bethany, Hawke had been raised amongst a pack of wolves. It was a wonder that she'd turned out to be such a nice person.

Isabela watched Hawke's face and body tense, as she leaned into Gamlen's personal space. "Kinslayer? I played no part in my mother's murder, you piece of shit, but if you call Isabela a whore again, I will play the leading role in yours."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Champion. Does the idea of me nailing your pirate slut upset you?"

Isabela let the words wash over her. Gamlen had never been successful in his repulsive attempts at seduction, and even if he had, she doubted he had the stamina to steer the ship into port. But she shifted her eyes towards Hawke, looking for a reaction. She'd always gotten so fired up at sexist remarks.

Hawke didn't waste another word, but stepped forward and swung on him, connecting loudly with his jaw. He hit the ground with a loud thud, and stayed still.

"Maker's breath I hate this flea hole…" Hawke mused angrily as she shook out her hand.

Isabela smothered a laugh, as she looked down at Hawke's swelling knuckles. "Temper, temper! Lady Hawke in a Lowtown bar fight. What will people think?"

Hawke frowned down at her hand. "That the Kirkwall Killer murdered the wrong Amell."

"You are far too easy to rile up, sweet thing. All somebody needs to do is push your little rage buttons, and then off you go, assaulting senior citizens. You know he'll probably press charges, don't you?"

Hawke nodded grimly. "Yes, but I'm sure Aveline will have them buried for me. She's always so protective..."

"The big girl has her uses, then. I must say though, you have a terrible punching technique. It completely gives you away as an amateur." Isabela reached out to take a look at the knuckles, but Hawke quickly pulled her hand out of reach.

"Don't touch me. I mean... I'm fine. But I would like to speak with you. Can you meet me at my house tonight?"

Isabela nodded stiffly. She looked at Hawke closely. The face was the same, but, different. There was an anger and bitterness brimming beneath the surface, and Isabela knew that she was responsible for it.

Hawke gestured to the unconscious body of Gamlen Amell. "If you're here when he comes to… Hit him again."

Isabela watched the familiar sway of Hawke's hips as she walked out the door, and felt a flutter in her abdomen that had been dormant for the last three years.