Isabela's POV
We didn't just survive finals week; we raped, pillaged, and conquered it. Hawke spend most of that time, both day and night, at my place. We'd go over notes, discuss papers, draw diagrams, fuck, look over flashcards, email teacher's assistants, fuck, take a break to eat, fuck, and then eventually fall asleep. By the time it was over, my fridge and liquor cabinet were barren, and I'd developed a case of carpal tunnel. But another semester was over. Cassandra was so excited, she shouted 'Fus Ro Dah' as she busted out of her last final, kicking the door open. I just dragged ass back to my Shelby, only to scrape the ice and snow off of her and crawl inside for a frigid nap. But it was mid-December and once finals were over, Hawke would be on the next plane out of Kirkwall to be with her family for Christmas. She would be gone for three weeks. That's 21 days of celibacy. And on New Year's too! My bed hadn't been empty on that night since the last Harry Potter book came out. In case you're wondering, that was a long time ago.
I tried to preemptively make up for lost time. I barely got my winger to the airport terminal on time because we were too busy getting handsy in the parking lot. Then I rolled up to the departure area, said see you later, and headed back to Kirkwall. It's not as if I came back to an empty apartment, though. Kitten was staying with me over the break. Big Girl had other arrangements, thank the Maker.
I spent most of the break utterly smashed; which my temporary house-mate didn't seem to mind. We watched a lot of movies, played a lot of cards, had her girlfriend over a few times, spent time with Varric, and even picked up a fake tree. Kitten found it disturbing that people 'massacre a bunch of plants, drag them into their houses, cover them in bits and bobs, then toss them out with the rubbish a few weeks later', but she wanted something symbolic anyway. When she said it like that, I had to agree.
We did not agree, however, about the idea of giving gifts. She was completely flabbergasted when I told her that Hawke and I had decided to forego the tradition. We both knew Halloween was my favorite holiday. I hate Christmas. I'm not Christian. Jesus was born in spring. Modern calendars put in on the same day as a pagan holiday. And I'm not pagan either. And I certainly don't like the mandatory exchanging of junk and the expectation of warm fuzzy feelings. My childhood was full of disappointing Christmases, if my mother even remembered the date at all. I think I had every right, in my own home, to ban a holiday. Of course, I had already bought Kitten a few things. The space under my tree was hardly empty. I'm not heartless, you know.
But, as the holiday drew nearer, I felt that maybe, just maybe, I should get Cassandra something. I got over it. She had gotten me to be part of a girlfriend agreement and we had sex all the time. What more could she want? And what business did Varric have planning a Christmas Eve get-together at my place? Alright, so maybe Merrill had a part in it, too... But really, do they forget whose name is on the deed? Of course, Kitten got so excited that I couldn't say no and Hawke sounded positively thrilled over the phone. So I bit my tongue and put up decorations.
Kitten had fun making paper snowflakes while I hung mistletoe all over my apartment. If it was going to be a party, it was going to be a party worth attending. I was waiting for an awkward kiss between Man Hands and the dwarf, and I made plenty of super-spiked eggnog to help ease the process. I didn't cook, though. That was up to Varric.
Just as Merrill and I got ourselves situated, someone came knocking. It was Aveline, in what had to be the most hideous holiday sweater that ever lived. I… I can't even describe the thing. It was red and… No. Let's just go with atrocious. I very much looked forward to lighting it aflame and stomping out the ashes.
"You're not coming inside with that on." I stood in the doorway, gesturing toward that… thing.
"You have mistletoe bobbing over your forehead and I'm the one being insulted?" She crossed her arms, holding back a grin.
"Aveline!" Merrill squealed from behind me, practically knocking me out of the way to get to her girlfriend. The bells on her shoes and hat jingled as she pounced the guardswoman, squeaking 'you're here, you're here' as she kissed all over her face. I'd of almost been jealous, if it weren't for that damned sweater. I let them in and Kitten showed Aveline all her decorations and the green and red Christmas elf outfit I helped her make. In some cultures, Saint Nicholas is shown in blue robes, so that's what I wore. Though there wasn't anything sanctified about my clothing. Nor shall there ever be.
Varric showed up a few minutes later, dressed as Santa Claus (though that holy man didn't have half the chest hair of our Paragon of Manliness). He brought a ham and a bunch of other stuff I couldn't have cared less about. Man Hands stuck a few boxes under the tree next to 'Santa's' small horde of presents. We ate, we drank, and then the mistletoe antics began. I ended up kissing Aveline on the nose by the kitchen (and nearly got slapped for it), Varric kissed her hand and we all giggled when she blushed. Then Kitten bumped into me while dancing and triggered my personal bouquet of mistletoe, so I chased her through the apartment and pinned her on the sofa while I made kissy noises. Aveline interrupted rather swiftly, but not before my dwarf snapped a picture. He and I shared a smooch by the tree later that night.
I was already good and drunk by the time Hawke video-chatted me on my phone. I passed her around so she could say hi to everybody. Kitten was so pleased she rambled on for quite a while, but then I scurried back to the bedroom when my girlfriend asked for a private conversation. The others promised to amuse themselves for a few minutes. I propped my phone between my pillows and laid out on my stomach to give her a fabulous view of my chest. What can I say? I'm a giver.
"Babe?" She croaked, her face damn near as red as her fuzzy Christmas hat. She must have been in her bedroom. I could have sworn I saw a blue corduroy FFA jacket on the wall. All the better. I'd just love to break in her childhood bed.
"Hmm?" I hummed, raising an amused eyebrow.
"When I asked for privacy, what I meant was…" I waited patiently while she palmed her face and started muttering. I heard another voice in the background. "One minute, Beth! She's not ready yet!" Beth… Beth… Oh! Bethany is her baby sister! "'Bela, you know I love your boobs, but do you mind covering up? It's my siblings. They've been asking about you for a week straight, and they'll just keep asking until I introduce you."
I looked down, inspecting my own cleavage. "What does that have to do with my tits? They're fabulous."
"My brother is 14." She explained impatiently, as if I had forgotten.
"Then he would be really peeved with you if he missed out on these." I chuckled, shrugging to pronounce my assets.
Hawke groaned, pulling her hat tighter over her head. "I'm going to let that comment slide because you're an only child. But please, babe, at least sit up." She whined. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was desperate.
"Fine. Spoilsport." I sighed, picking up my phone and sitting up against my pillows. "Better?" I asked sarcastically. Cassandra just tilted her head, smirking at me.
"Oh, don't pout. You know you're cute when you pout." I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue, gaining a weak laugh in exchange. My girlfriend took a deep breath, propping her phone up against something so she could sit back in a chair. "Look, I know you're not big into family stuff. And I know you could probably care less about my brother and sister. But if you could just introduce yourself and withstand a few minutes of banter with them, I would really appreciate it." She pleaded with me. I'll admit, families and kids aren't my thing. But I'm not completely shallow and cold-hearted. These teenagers are Hawke's. Merrill and Aveline were Hawke's, but now they're kind of mine, too. That's how relationships work, right? Sharing and all that?
"Alright, Hawke. Bring on the twins." I shivered lightly, giggling at myself. "Ooh, I got a bit tingly when I said that."
My winger shook her head, shooting me an unamused look. "Ew." She scurried away from her phone and I waited patiently while three voices mumbled in the background. Finally, there were three dark-haired faces crowding the screen. Hawke's, of course, with those beautiful blue eyes and sharp features. Then there were the twins. Bethany looked nothing like her sister. She had long hair, hazel eyes, and a really cute set of chubby cheeks. She was pretty. Carver, however, was a mix of both his siblings. He had his sister's wolf eyes and short hair, but a very soft face, not quite matured yet. He looked like your everyday teenage boy, but was tall enough to be mistaken for a man. Cassandra cleared her throat. "Um, Bethany and Carver, this is Isabela. Isabela, this is-"
"Holy shit! You weren't kidding! Her tits are massive!" Carver practically shouted, his pupils dilating twice their normal size. He leaned in over his sisters. I sent him a wink and a smile.
"Brother, so help me-!" The eldest went about smacking her sibling in the back of the head and bickering with him. The Hawkes must be known for their admiration of breasts.
Someone was moving the phone away from the chaos. Bethany sat in a window, holding the phone near her face. "Hi. I'm Bethany. Sorry about those two. They're always at each others' throats." She admitted, glancing off screen, where I could still hear snippets of an argument. "Do you have any siblings?" She asked sweetly, blushing a bit.
"Not from my mother. But I probably have a boatload of half-siblings from whoever my father is." I confessed, holding back a sigh. The girl seemed to turn away for a moment, as if scribbling something down.
"What's your favorite color?" She continued. No shit; they actually have a list of questions for me.
"Blue."
A male voice spoke up from the distance. "What's your favorite season?" He grunted. I had a feeling he was in some sort of headlock or otherwise restrained.
"Swimsuit." I chuckled.
"If you were trapped on a desert island and could only bring two things with you, what would they be?" Bethany must have thought long and hard about that question, based on the crinkle in her brow.
"Am I alone?"
She looked up, as if considering. "Yes." She nodded enthusiastically.
"A solar-powered vibrator and a bottle of rum." I joked.
Hawke took back her phone, but I still caught a flash of red from her sister's cheeks. Totally worth it. "Isabela! My sister can't know that!" She shrieked at me.
"I could stand to hear a little more."
"Carver!" His older sister must have been moving because the camera bounced all over the place. "Enough out of you two! Go suck on candy canes or something!" She pushed her siblings out of her bedroom, huffing as she closed her door.
She flopped down on her bed, sitting cross-legged. She was wearing Kermit footy-pajamas. I didn't even know she owned sleepwear. Then again, our clothes never usually make it to the bedroom. I wonder if I should install a hamper in the hall… "I see family drama isn't limited to the daughters of crack whores. How invigorating." I pushed back my hair, grinning.
Hawke snorted, shaking her head at me. "It's not like that, babe. We just love each other in a very chaotic kind of way. Flinging fists and insults all day long is all about bonding with Carver. But I'm nothing but sunshine and rainbows with Bethany."I tried to imagine an average day at the Hawke household. Carver is going to be a hunk when he finally fills out. But he seems to purposely enrage his sister. And Bethany is already starting to fill out… It won't be long until she'll be toting a parade of horny boys, if she isn't already. And they're both intrigued with their sister's love life, not disgusted. Mealtime must be fun, too. I bet everyone but Bethany eats like a horse.
"They're cute. Annoying; but cute." I confessed.
"That's pretty much how I feel about them most days." She chuckled, then smiled softly at me. "Thanks for this, Isabela."
She looked so… happy. Not frustrated. Not lustful. Not scared. Nothing. I recognized the look, but it was completely out of context. Cassandra only looked like this when she was sleeping, or right after a good tumble. So… at peace. Grateful for everything and nothing at all. It was almost unnerving. But I sort of liked it. "Merry Christmas, Hawke." I smiled sheepishly. "Now go be with your family."
"Same to you, sweetheart. Same to you."
The next morning was a riot. Kitten crawled into bed with me that night. That was normal, considering she was staying with me for the break and I didn't have a spare bed. No, it only got weird when Aveline decided to join us. Kitten cuddles up against me and doesn't make a sound. Man Hands snores like a warthog. We ended up making a very noisy Merrill sandwich. Thus, when I cracked my eyes open early Christmas morning, there was Aveline, all frizzy ginger hair and drool. I was out of my bed so fast it was nauseating. Luckily, Varric had already vacated my couch and made coffee. I couldn't even shower without waking the proverbial sleeping bear. So I shook out my hair, sat back in my chair, and drank a big ole cup of holiday cheer (also known as peppermint schnapps spiked mocha). I didn't even come running when I heard Kitten screech like a banshee in the other room. She sprinted out my room, wearing a loose tee-shirt and a tiny pair of shorts. "It's Christmas! It's Christmas!" She kept chanting at the top of her lungs. She was running around the house like a paranoid calico. Aveline rose but did not shine. She pulled her hair back and threw on that ugly ass sweater. She looked pitiable, so I made her a cup of coffee, too.
Kitten demanded we immediately open presents. So we let her separate everything into piles. It turns out, all three of them had gotten me presents. Merrill framed a picture. Varric took it a few weeks ago, at a big farmer's market in town. We put our heads through one of those silly cut-out things. Hawke was Dorothy, Aveline was the Tin-Man, Merrill was the Scarecrow, and I was the Cowardly Lion. It was a pretty good day and it was a really sweet gift. My trusty dwarf made a spiral notebook of all the amusing things Hawke and I say during intercourse, including translations. I got a good giggle out of that. You just can't forget such fine literature. 'Ice cream?… In bed?... This is… The best… Way… To get diabetes…' 'Vive la petite mort!' or my favorite: 'Holy fuck shit tits, Batman'. Aveline did quite the opposite. She gave me a box full of my police reports, speeding/parking tickets, and complaints from businesses. There was even a mug shot from last Saint Patrick's Day. That must have taken some effort to find, considering I was brought in with seven other arts and sciences students. Don't design firearms drunk. I was picking backfired potato out of my hair for days.
They exchanged gifts with each other, too.
Varric got Aveline a long sword. An actual fucking long sword, engraved with her name, stored in a nice sheath, and everything. Turns out, she shares my fondness for sharp and pointy things. Kitten made her a big sign that simply said 'Don't', in case the sword wasn't intimidating enough. The dwarf said she could always hit people with it if they misbehave. Man Hands seemed quite touched, if the grin on her freckled façade was any indication. Or the way she started slashing and grunting at imaginary enemies.
Varric received a beautiful sketch from Kitten, depicting him sitting in a throne, his crossbow lying across his lap. Aveline gave him a more practical gift; coupons totaling 6 full hours of manual labor (including moving furniture or reaching for things on high shelves) and two free oil changes. In return, the dwarf gave them One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore and a biography about the life of Jean D'Arc. I think it's safe to assume who each belonged to.
I hadn't meant to give them each a present… but I sort of did. I had gotten Kitten the tenth Doctor's sonic screwdriver weeks ago. The actual original prop from the show, not some cheap remake. I only stuck it under the tree last night, covered in some butcher paper. The cost was totally worth the toothy grin on her face and the hundreds of hugs I got in return. I also got her the Pop-Up Kama Sutra: Lesbian Edition, which seemed like a gift for Man Hands as much as for my adorable little pussycat. Varric and I smiled, but all the happy couple did was blush, wrap in back up, and stick it in the box with Merrill's other book. But hey, maybe they'd read it later. And for the dwarf? I made a quick call to my lawyer, giving him fifteen percent ownership of my most lucrative enterprise: Rivaini Imports and Antiquities, Inc. A fat wallet makes a happy man. And Varric was beaming.
Once Aveline convinced Kitten to put on some actual pants (apparently her legs were having some sort of effect on the prude), we settled in front of the TV to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas, The Muppet Christmas Carol, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. Varric sat comfortably in his chair, while Aveline laid halfway on my sofa, sword in one arm and girlfriend in the other. I sat beside them, munching on Christmas candy. I got a few texts from Hawke, talking about gifts and how much she wished she could have both of her 'little families' together. I told her all I wanted for Christmas was her sliding down my chimney and stuffing my stocking. She got a good giggle out of that. But then she started to tell me about how her family used to spend the holidays when her father was alive. He took her to pick out the tree each year. They laid out cookies and milk for 'Santa', long after she knew it was him clomping around the house in a suit. He would read to her and the twins, and tell them stories about how each culture spent Christmas. They would get a set of pajamas on Christmas Eve, so they could wear them in the morning while opening presents. And they would spend the rest of the day building snow forts.
But they were too old now, she said. Their father was gone and their mother spent each holiday in mourning, despite the brave face she wore for her children. They exchanged gifts and spent the day together, but it never held the joy it once did. I knew by the sloppy grammar of her texts that she was crying. That made me sad for her. So I changed the subject. I told her about how Merrill was never going to be without her sonic screwdriver, how Aveline's Satan-spawned sweater needed to be doused in holy acid before being burned at the stake, how Varric feels like a king with Man Hands as his knight, and how my Spanish is apparently wretched in the sack. It cheered her up a bit, but I could tell the wind was out of her sails. No amount of Fa la la-ing and Fus Ro Dah-ing was going to make it a very merry Christmas for Hawke.
I promised to make it up to her next year. We both knew it was a polite lie. But for whatever reason, we both accepted it as truth.
Author's Note: I know these holiday chapters are sort of out of place right now, but you can always re-read them later!
By the way, the book Varric gave Merrill is a required read for first year students at Hogwarts.
And I have totally Fus Ro Dah-ed out of a final. You should try it some time. It feels absolutely fabulous.