Isabela showed up in the Hanged Man exactly two years, eleven months and one week after the Qunari invasion.
"But hey, who's counting," Varric said, as he relayed the information to Marian over their weekly drinks. "It's only the eleventh and a half time you've asked in the past month."
"The half was when I was drunk, right?"
Varric grinned. "You passed out on the table and Fenris had to haul you upstairs."
"So that's why he was glaring at me the next day." Marian cast a glance over her shoulder at the crowded bar.
"Go on," Varric said. "What's the worst that could happen?"
She gave him a disbelieving look. "You realise this is Isabela we're talking about, right?"
"You'll be fine, Hawke. Have some liquid courage."
"It's liquid something," Marian said, and drained her glass. "Maybe a bit of courage would make it taste better."
After nearly three years it was odd to look at Isabela's spot at the bar and see the woman herself, and not just a lingering memory. She looked as she always did - casually alert, armed to the teeth, and drinking straight from the bottle.
"Hello," Isabela said, and took another swig.
Marian raised her eyebrows.
"That's it?" she said. "Just 'hello'? No 'I missed your electricity trick' or 'I brought you something from Antiva'?"
She'd been hoping for a smile, or even a smirk - nothing. Damn.
Isabela pushed away the wine bottle and turned around. She leant against the bar, one leg crossed over the other.
"So," she said, with a hint of amusement. "'Champion of Kirkwall'. Moving on up in the world."
"It has its perks. Fancy dinner parties, nobles dripping in jewels...it makes my fingers itch." Throwing caution to the wind, Marian reached for the wine bottle and took a swig, somewhat relieved when Isabela didn't move to stop her. You don't mess with a pirate's drink - not unless they let you, of course. "Though that's your influence, I suppose."
Isabela didn't smile. "Why are you here, Hawke?"
"Enjoying the Hanged Man's hospitality, of course. Where else can I get swill of this quality in Kirkwall? It's so bad it's almost good."
Still no smile. Marian sighed and motioned her to a vacant table. Isabela sat across from her, nursing the wine bottle and looking for all the world like she'd rather be anywhere else.
"Look," Marian said in a low voice. "About what happened with the relic -"
"You don't have to say it," Isabela interrupted. "We already know what happened. It's past history."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"I'm not-"
"Oh, bullshit. You've been gone for nearly three years, and now you show up out of the blue without a word? Varric tells me you've been back for several days and you haven't even come to see me."
Scowling, Isabela muttered something that sounded suspiciously like bloody dwarves. When Marian raised an eyebrow, she said, "I was drinking."
"You'd rather drink with the regulars in here than with me? You're better than that. Besides, don't you know Champions get fancy wine and everything?"
Isabela rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I feel comfortable here? You have your big mansion in Hightown, and you have the others."
Marian took another swig of wine, ignoring the other woman's glare.
"The others are the others," she muttered. "They're not Isabela. No-one's like Isabela."
"Well, of course not. They'd all have to be better with a blade." For the first time Isabela smiled, a little smirk that lifted the corner of her lips. Then it was gone the next second, and she stood up. "Look, the fact is we have nothing in common anymore. You're the Champion of Kirkwall...I'm just a lying, thieving snake."
"No, you're not," Marian said quietly, and for the first time moved in closer. "You're just afraid of being something else."