Maker, how did I get this seat again?

Inwardly, Isabela was groaning... and she was pretty sure that could be seen on the look on her face, if the smirk Varric shot her was any indication.

It was nice to be invited to the Hawke's place for dinner – Isabela suspected it was mother Leandra's way to keep up to speed with the friends of her children and ensure they were good people... though Maker knew why Isabela was then still welcome – since Isabela never got invited to someones home otherwise. Well, except at night-time, and only if the wife or husband's away... this is... different, not as great, but... nice... if only I'd gotten a better seat.

Not that she didn't understand the placement of seats along the square table – she knew crafty when she saw it – it was actually quite ingenious... but it left her in a poor spot. For she was at the centre of the side that had three seated people, rather than the two at the other sides, and was stuck between Carver and Gamlen... a man she'd hoped never to sit with again.

The old man had already tried hitting on her four times this current dinner, and would probably have gone up to double digits if he hadn't found one of the bottle of wines she'd brought so fascinating. Fortunately, he was a glum drunk and was by now busy staring at the red wine in his glass as if it had done him some old wrong, practically ignoring Isabela... though she sensed that would soon change, given the emptiness of the bottle at the table. As for Carver... stuck between Varric at the other corner with his endless stories and Isabela with...well...tits... they probably hoped to distract him with both to keep him from Merrill, his interest in her something both parent and brother no doubt didn't approve of.

So far, it was working, Isabela smugly noted as Carver shot her another glance while biting into a loaf of bread. Though the man also swiftly deflected his gaze, moving it over to the one elf at the meal, the woman sharing her corner with Gamlen and her side of the table with Bethany. Shame Fenris didn't show up, again, I could have done with some eye-candy... he hangs out in that crappy mansion too much. Heck, I'd settle for Anders too, some good memories before he got all... scratched up. Merrill was smiling politely at her food, as was Bethany... but there was little conversation. Crap, bet our words back at the Hanged Man is still hanging between them. Plus, Merrill's a bit proud about being a mage, and Bethany's an apologist for it... maybe Garrett wanted to put Merrill down again over that whole blood-magic thing? Dick... she wouldn't hurt a fly, anyone could see that.

At least Bethany was sharing a corner with Aveline rather than Gamlen, but the Guardswoman – though sometimes Isabela had doubts about the whole 'woman' thing – was busy talking to Leandra, the elder woman and her looking very amiable as they discussed various matters of Kirkwall and Aveline's work. And finally, at the other side of the corner Leandra sat, their illustrious leader was seated next to Varric, wearing his usual look of utter seriousness as he leant on the table while listening to Varric's mutters. Damn, I wish that calm was just an act, that would make him more human. Isabela shot Maric a glance, the dog sitting in a corner with a bone from a cow in front of him, though the hound was merely looking at it, as if pondering its significance rather than eagerly biting on it like any healthy dog would have. Yeah... probably not an act, as they say in Ferelden 'as dog, as man'... damn, never thought I'd miss that wet place.

Still, Garrett did look slightly pleased, as did Aveline, and both had cause to... as did Isabela. The slavers they had captured had been a stroke of luck, for they were part of a larger group of raiders that had enjoyed some success with the land-based merchant caravans coming to Kirkwall... and if it was something the merchant-princes of Kirkwall hated, it was the loss of coin. So there had been a reward for each one taken, and the group had brought six. Not only that, but the loot from the slavers hadn't been as bad as first thought. Their armour and boots in particular being eagerly bought up by a mercenary company called the Red Irons, all except the one Carver had taken to replace his all too broken suit of scale armour, which too had been bought by a smith too drunk to count his coins properly. So all in all, Isabela had gained three silver more than she could have hoped for, a foursome rather than lonesome, as it was. He might be a dick, but at least the guy keeps me coming for more... so he's unlike most dicks, heh...

"So..." Oh no, not again. Isabela nearly thumped her head into the table at the sound of Gamlen's voice. To her surprise, his voice didn't sound all that drunk, simply thicker, as if his lungs had gained more volume. "...what is it that you do in your free time? Save drinking this excellent vintage, that is?" Isabela shot him a curious glance, but the man wasn't even looking at her, his gaze still intent on his glass, though by now it was empty. "You sure have an eye for quality..."

Do you even know what a vintage is? Isabela forced a smile, though Maker knew why she endured the man's company. For silver, mostly, damn Garrett. "You know, I'm... around." Trying to act as if I'm without a care in the world as I search a million people city for a single book where the elite keep their private libraries guarded day and night while the rest know nothing of books save that they're valuable. Asking questions in places where that gets you killed, trying to relax and live to the fullest, never knowing when I'll feel that knife inside my chest from one of Castillon's assassins... things like that. "Trying my best to do as little as possible." She shot Gamlen's wine a glance. "And I prefer ale, to be honest." Unless spewed from an elf's mouth... heh, that was hilarious though...

"Then we have something in common." Gamlen grunted, putting down his now empty glass before shooting her a smile, his breath reeking of wine and a piece of cheese stuck to one tooth. "The ale thing, not the doing as little as possible, that is. I like to move around, you know, invest... hell, getting exercise is also good."

Maker, what did I do to deserve this? "Really? You invest a lot?" Isabela feigned interest, though she was sure her disinterest showed in her every movement as she put her elbows on the table and picked at the bowl of broth in front of her. "I haven't heard that, you're doing well?" As for the exercise thing... yes, not touching that, I know what you're trying to lead into.

"Sure. Qunari cheeses..." I had one once, or at least a bite, rest went overboard. "...Rivaini wheels..." I think I heard of that! They tried to save wood so they could sell them cheap and instead they kept breaking them when weight was put on them! Really, reinventing the wheel... who does that? "...Lyrium... trade." Smuggling, you mean, seeing as the Chantry has the monopoly... I can see why you now live in Lowtown. "Admittedly there's not much I invest in nowadays, got to take care of the family." Isabela nearly laughed in the man's face. "Still, that leaves a lot of extra time for that... exercise."

Yes, I'm sure your right hand has a grip like iron. Isabela shuddered, she was no maid, and didn't mind older men – they usually knew their stuff – even those that most would call filthy sometimes deserved a chance if there was something catching her eye...but Gamlen had no desirable qualities, which was a feat in itself given Isabela's ability to overlook most issues. "Well I'm glad you're taking care of your family, I'm sure Garrett appreciates it."

"Well... yes, thank you." Gamlen blinked, obviously not having expected that reply and unsure how to lead things in to what he wanted to talk about. Unfortunately for Isabela, he was as subtle as he was charming. "Anyway, about that exercise, I find it best when-"

"Hey, Gamlen." Isabela and Gamlen both jumped at the voice rising over the din at the table, the former mostly over it coming from Aveline across the table. The woman was wearing that ridiculous leather apron that was as much clothing as it was armour, making it look as if she was expecting to get back to work at any moment – given the sword on her hip, maybe she did – but more importantly, she also wore what passed for a 'smile' on her brutish features. "Have you tried this ale?" The guards woman rolled a bottle across the table and to the man. "From the barrack, on me."

"Hmm... thank you." Gamlen stared at the bottle in his hand, then uncorked it and sniffed at it. "Wow, strong stuff!" Enough to put a man down? His face broke into a grin. "Thank you!" He took a big swig, then another... and Isabela shot Aveline a look that was partly grateful, partly confused. I thought we were...rivals? Sort of? You don't like me? Does that ring a bell?

The ginger gave a shrug, shooting Gamlen a significant look before turning back to Leandra and whatever discussion they were now on. Huh... thanks. Isabela sighed in relief... and then nearly groaned. Crap, now I owe her one, the horror...!

Now free from the conversation imposed on her, she was just in time to hear Carver directing his attention to Merrill across the table. "So..." This ought to be good. "...Merrill, you're making friends in the Alienage?"

Garrett was suddenly one big frown as he took a pause from his discussion with Varric to shoot his brother a withering look...who stoically ignored the glare, set on his target. Isabela rolled her eyes. Oh well... why not, might earn a point with Garrett and get more jobs... Crossing her arms under her breasts, she leant them down on the table, the pressure making her nearly spill out of her tunic as she shot Carver her oft-effective 'hello sailor' look. Garrett shot her a look, but not to glance at her chest – he only did that for half a heartbeat – but to give a nod, knowing what she was trying to do.

Yet to their surprise, Carver didn't even seem to notice the great view she was giving him, having eyes only for the reed-thin elf... instead she found herself shuddering as she felt the still drinking Gamlen leer at her. Next time I come to the Hawke's, I'll wear plate armour... Merrill's voice cut into her thoughts thought. There was an almost childish quality to her voice, made all the more pronounced by the way the Dalish elongated the a's and e's in a speech with such a soft accent. "Not really... I think they don't know what I'm talking about most of the time... they just give me this blank stare..." She assumed a neutral look for a moment, something that looked decidedly alien on her face... before it split into the usual smile. "Plus I can't talk about... you know... me..." She and Bethany exchanged a quick glance before they both looked away. "...some wanted to know about being Dalish... they started by asking if we ate meat raw..." She grimaced in disgust. "...I was surprised no one wanted to leave the Alienage after I answered though."

"They prefer what's known to them." Garrett cut in before Carver could reply, earning him an annoyed look. "What's unknown is scary, foreign."

Merrill bit her lower lip, nodding as she looked up at the ceiling, as if seeing it for the first time, then around the table before shooting Garrett a glance, though she quickly deflected her eyes from his steady gaze. "I... I can understand that."

The man nodded, shot Carver another look telling him to stop speaking to the elf, then turned back to Varric. Carver, however, was not dissuaded. Brave man... "Awww, don't give up, I'm sure once they all see what a lovely woman you are, they'll come to like you as much as we do!"

Merrill's eyes bulged, then she turned red, her gaze glued to the table as she managed a whisper. "Thank you."

Carver looked like one big question mark at that, making Isabela chuckle. It had been quite the task, telling Merrill what wanting to get into someone's trousers meant, and that Carver wanted that with her. Isabela suspected the elf had actually tried not to understand for a good while, but in the end, no innocence of such matters could handle the great Isabela!

Merrill had been horrified though, at the point that Isabela had nearly felt sorry for her... though she was by now over it. The mere thought of sleeping with a human had seemed to unnerve Merrill quite a bit, she had blabbered a lot about her clan at that point, and then there was the whole 'I don't think of him that way' and 'please make him stop'...essentially Merrill thought herself to be in an extremely awkward situation. I don't get it, just don't encourage him and ignore it until it goes away, burn him if he tries to advance anyway... so many people are awkward about sex. Isabela shot Gamlen a glance, he hadn't taken the hint for over a year now, yet hadn't tried anything to make her shoot him down either. Doesn't work on everyone though... although if he tries pushing things, he'll burn big time.

Judging the elf's blush a victory, Carver grinned. "Quite welcome, my lady."

"Sooo..." Isabela turned to Carver, trying to save the poor elf before she blushed so hard she'd burst. "I saw you in your new armour before, quite dashing..." She offered a flutter of her eyelashes.

Carver straightened in his chair, looking very impressive save for the overly proud look on his face. Ah, men and their egos... too easy. "Thank you, I like how easy the leather is to move in, it's not as protective as I'd like, but when you're a skilled swordsman, you really shouldn't be hit." Sure, lecture me – fighting in a tunic – about the importance of not being hit... I love to learn. "It's a little tight around the shoulders though..." Well duh, you're nearly the size of a Kossith. "...but mother has promised to fix that, she's a wonder with the needle."

How... quaint. Isabela grimaced, she didn't much like the idea of a woman doing those 'wifely' things, especially one stuck at home to service her family... it reminded the pirate of a time far better left in the past. She threw the old woman a look. Leandra was beautiful for her age. Though there were lines of worry and tiredness in her face, they only seemed to enhance her appearance... that at that moment was dazzling Aveline with a smile. "Why yes, I sent him a letter! He mentioned me?"

Aveline grimaced. "His steward did... that was the fifth letter? You better stop. Unless you have some sort of offer to reimburse the current owners and to fix up the location to increase market value in that part of Hightown, there's no way the Viscount will heed your request to regain your old home, never mind for him to read your request." Leandra's smile faltered. "Right now you're only annoying the steward, which means he won't read further letters unless you send a sovereign along."

"Well... I suppose that's fair of him..." Leandra looked down at the table, shoulders slumped. "...running an estate that size needs a lot of money..."

"Don't worry, mother." Garrett put a supporting hand on Leandra's shoulder, offering that gentle smile Isabela had only spotted when he was at home. "We are getting closer to our goal. Once we have enough, the expedition will give us a significant boost. With enough money, I can hire new expeditions to land us even more wealth. I've thought this through, trust me."

"I do... it's just..." Leandra shot Merrill – Leandra might be a gentle soul, but only a fool trusted a person they barely knew – a look, then noticed Garrett not even glance at the elf, and shrugged. "...we have what, thirty gold?" She shot Merrill another glance, but the elf was just staring blankly at their conversation, curious, but not in the least interested in the gold. Still a Dalish at heart...damn, thirty Sovereigns... "And it's almost winter... how will we make enough in time?"

"Our name is out there now, there's larger investors out there, wanting our help." Garrett's smile had faded somewhat during his mother's question, but it quickly came back as he himself spoke. "And yes, I realise that might mean scarier jobs, but you must understand that I try to solve things the easy way, with little danger." That's for sure. If it had been up to her, Isabela would have gutted the slavers holding Feynriel in one charge, but she had to admit that Garrett's way had been more beneficial... still... she didn't much care for it, it was dull. "I'll minimize the danger, I promise."

Leandra didn't look all that comfortable with the idea, yet nodded anyway. "I know, my rock, I know... it's just..." She grimaced, looked away. You worry? Isabela held back a grimace. My crew used to worry for me... right? "..I know."

Watching mother and son share a gentle smile of shared love, Isabela suddenly felt tired.

Varric coughed, interrupting the moment. "Speaking of danger..."

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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being so awesome.