35

Isabela knocked on the door, feeling like a stranger back in Hightown. She didn't know why she'd come, or what Hawke wanted from her. This was not a part of her plan to slip quietly in and out of Kirkwall. Yet her feet had worked of their own accord, treading the well known path from the Hanged Man to Hawke's mansion.

"Ah, Mistress Isabela, it's wonderful to see you again. Lady Hawke didn't tell me we were expecting you" Bodahn said, answering the door.

"Hello Bodahn. Is she here?" Isabela asked, walking past him.

"Yes. I will just announce your arrival." The dwarf waddled up the stairs, towards Hawke's bedroom.

Isabela looked around the room. It felt like a lifetime since she'd been in the house. Hawke appeared at the top of the stairs, and Isabela felt her breath catch in her throat. This was the most beautiful Isabela had ever seen Hawke look. Her long hair was pulled up in an ornate hairstyle, showing off her smooth, thin neck, and the colour of her robes brought out the intense blue of the mage's eyes. Isabela felt a drum of arousal between her legs as she looked upon her former lover.

"How are the knuckles, scrapper? It took Gamlen a good 20 minutes to regain consciousness, not a bad effort for your first fight."

A small smile played on Hawke's lips. "Well, I'm so happy you approve."

"Approve? I feel like a proud mother hen. Your Uncle is a complete pig, he deserved it. I don't even know how you two can be related, it boggles the mind."

Hawke made her way down the stairs. "It's been a long time coming. Hopefully he'll think twice before he sexually harasses you again."

Isabela leaned against the stairwell, and gestured at Hawke's outfit. "Got a hot date?"

Hawke looked down at her formal robes. "Oh, this? Yes... I mean... No. But I do have to go out. There's a banquet at the Keep tonight. It gets held every year, on the anniversary of the attack." She thumbed her scar absentmindedly.

Isabela straightened up. The last topic she wanted to touch was the Qunari attack. "Why am I here, Hawke? We said everything that needed to be said at the tavern. I don't really think that there's anything left to talk about."

Hawke paused. "Perhaps there's not. I don't know why I invited you, come to think of it. I suppose… I just slipped into an old habit. But since you're here, we might as well catch up. How have you been? After you left... I lost many nights of sleep worrying about you."

"You needn't have. I was looking after myself long before I met you, Hawke. You don't need to insert yourself into all of my battles."

Hawke chuckled. "Yes, I'll remember that the next time you need me to save your life. Can I get you a drink?"

Isabela nodded, and Hawke headed in the direction of the kitchen. Isabela's eyes scanned the room, and her gaze was caught by Hawke's staff, which was leaning against her writing desk. She couldn't help but admire it. It was shiny and black, dragon bone, by Isabela's guess. It was ornately crafted into interweaved pieces, with a large, ice focus crystal at the firing end, and a vicious looking scythe on the other end. Hawke appeared a moment later, handing Isabela a glass of whiskey.

"New toy?" Isabela asked, gesturing to the mage's staff.

Hawke looked at it with pride. "Ah, yes, it's beautiful, isn't it? A friend had it made for me. It was crafted to fit specifically into my hand, and it channels my powers perfectly. I have not seen its equal before or since."

"That's an expensive gift. Was this a friend, or a friend?" Isabela asked as she felt a small pang of jealousy in her chest.

Hawke averted her eyes. "Does it matter?"

Isabela didn't answer. It shouldn't matter. It was none of her business. But she found herself inescapably drawn to Hawke. The attraction, the feelings, it was like she was 25 years old again, checking out those curves for the first time.

Hawke gestured for Isabela to sit on the couch, and took a seat beside her. The women settled into an awkward silence.

Hawke laughed softly. "Look at us, sitting here not knowing what to say. It's hard to believe how close we used to be."

Isabela sipped her drink. "It's not like we spent our time talking, Hawke."

Hawke blushed lightly, but kept her voice even. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Aw, you're blushing. Why? Does the memory make you that uncomfortable?"

Hawke shook her head. "No, not uncomfortable. Just… I don't know… I guess I haven't thought about you in that way for a while." Her eyes darted quickly to the curve of Isabela's breasts, and she swallowed deeply.

Isabela could feel the body heat rising from the mage beside her. Hawke still desired her, Isabela could sense it. She hadn't kissed anybody in such a long time, and she missed kissing Hawke most of all. She took a deep breath and leaned into Hawke, pressing their mouths and bodies together. Hawke relaxed into the kiss for a split second, her mouth as warm and as soft as Isabela remembered. Then her lips stiffened, and she put both hands on Isabela's shoulders, gently pushing her away.

"No Isabela, I don't think that's wise" Hawke said quietly.

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course, Maker forbid you do anything unwise."

Hawke met Isabela's gaze, and frowned. "I was trying to be polite. What I meant to say was; don't fucking kiss me again."

Isabela laughed. Varric had been right. Hawke had changed, and Isabela wasn't sure what to make of her now.

Isabela sat back. "Fair enough. I suppose I wouldn't want to make an enemy of your generous friend, anyway."

"I don't have a friend, Isabela. Maybe I just don't want to be tonight's piece of arse, or rut-buddy, or playmate, or whatever else it was that you used to call me to diminish my significance. I'm not interested in what you have to offer."

Isabela touched the beating pulse in the mage's neck, and the skin of her neckline prickled under the touch. "You say that, but your body is telling a different story."

Hawke swiped Isabela's hand away. "Your tricks won't work on me. If you're looking to get off, I'll give you some coin and walk you to the Rose for a whore, but don't you ever come to me for that again."

Isabela scoffed. "That's not what I'm after. You're just such a boring prig, I thought I'd get you to do the only half interesting thing that you're capable of."

Hawke stood and gestured violently to the door. "Get out of my house. Finish your business, and leave Kirkwall. I don't want to see you again."

Isabela stood, and walked smugly to the door, taking in the beautiful sight of an angry Hawke.