A/N: I actually wanted to end this chapter earlier, but I wanted to get out as much as I could before school work piled up again and thus settled for this mash up. Anyways thanks for all the encouraging reviews and advice! Read on!

Chapter 8: Duel (Part III: Playing with Toys)

With a loud thud and a groan, the man slid to the floor and relinquished the grip on the bag he had been holding so viciously on to. Hawke placed her staff on her back and picked up the brown cloth bag. This particular thief had been quite the runner and not to mention he had an utter disregard for his own life. Hawke weighed the bag in her hands, wondering if it had jewels or coins in it but the weight was relatively light. All Dulci had said when practically barging into Hawke's estate was that Hawke must retrieve stolen merchandise or she would be ruined. Hawke wasn't in any mood to do any work seeing as Arya had come over for dinner, but the Orlesian woman was absolutely distraught. She pointed them in the right direction and in no time her and Arya came upon a rather dirty looking thief.

He ran across rooftops, spiked-gates and through rather disgusting piles of human waste. It wasn't that Hawke hadn't encountered rather odious smells but that didn't mean she spent her free time swimming through it. When they finally caught him, Hawke was cautious about not getting too close to him with all the gunk he was covered up in. If it weren't for Arya's rather detailed knowledge of Kirkwall's passageways, Hawke might have had to use rather extreme measures to catch the thief like causing an ice storm to break out in a contained section of Kirkwall– Knight Commander Meredith would have loved that.

"What's in the bag?" Arya poked at the item in question.

"I'm not sure, but might as well take a look," Hawke undid the lace and took a peek inside only to have her entire face burn red.

"Well what is it?" Arya was having a hard time seeing Hawke's face in the dark.

"I,I,It's nothing!" Hawke hurriedly laced it back up and kept the bag from Arya's grasp.

"That's not fair!" Arya smirked and closed in on the nervous mage. "I helped catch him too."

"Trust me when I say you're better off not knowing." Hawke put the bag behind her.

Arya kept closing the gap between her and Hawke until she was well within kissing range. The girl withdrew the bow that Hawke had crafted for her and used it to trap Hawke in betweeen her and the bow by wrapping it behind her. Hawke stood locked between Arya, her arms at her sides and the bow to her back. Arya pulled Hawke closer until she was able to ensnare the mage's lips, and once that was accomplished she quickly made fast of grabbing the bag in Hawke's limp hand.

"Hey!" Hawke reached out but the Fereldan was quicker.

"You're the one who didn't want to play fair." Arya kept the bag at a safe distance. "Now let's see what do we have–" the young woman's face paled as she looked into the bag. "here," she squeaked and dropped the bag to the floor.

"Serves you right." Hawke chuckled and picked up the bag. "Who knew the Orlesian woman was into this kind of thing."

"No wonder she was so worried."

"She even had her name engraved on most of them."

"I wasn't aware you took such a detailed account of them." Arya murmured and blushed at the thought of Hawke's developing a curiosity for such 'toys.'

"I didn't, I just, I had to make sure they were in fact Dulci's." Hawke felt flustered as she turned around to return to Hightown.

"I see…" Arya felt the awkwardness of the current subject set in as she tagged behind Hawke.

Hawke struggled to look at Arya with the images of Dulci's various sex toys located in the bag being held by her right hand. She had been courting the beautiful Fereldan bowman for at least 3 months, and had been delaying anything more than kisses and hugs. It wasn't that she didn't know what to do, but she simply couldn't bring herself to bed the Fereldan. In truth every time she thought of doing anything relatively sexual, her thoughts would stray to a rather voluptuous pirate that she had been avoiding as of late.

"Oh! Serah Hawke, you've returned!" Dulci cried out as she saw Hawke appear at the entrance. "Please say you captured that horrible man!" She whined and when Hawke raised the bag Dulci seemed to be in a panic.

"You didn't by chance see what was in there, did you?"

Hawke nearly choked on the air she was breathing as she eyed Dulci's enquiring stare. 'Of course I didn't look' is what she was ready to say, but images of leather, cuffs and various strappings undid her eloquent tongue. Arya glanced at Hawke, wondering why she was taking such a long time to reply and, out of humor, nudged her partner back into reality.

"No, I didn't have the chance." Hawke hurriedly thrust the bag at the Orlesian woman. "Have a goodnight Comtess!" She led her towards the entrance and Dulci exited as quickly as she could.

Hawke shut the door and sighed as she slid to the floor. When was she going to have a normal late night experience? It seemed like no matter where she was, strange requests always managed to come her way. Strange requests, dealings with the Arishok and a lack of seeing Isabela seemed to be weighing the mage down. Arya sat down by her and let the mage rest on her available shoulder. They hadn't been able to have a normal sit down dinner, nor had she been able to meet Hawke's mother under normal circumstances. She felt Hawke nestle into her neck and chuckled as Hawke's warm breath tickled her delicate skin. The mage was tired from the chase, but the bow-woman could tell something else was wearing her out. She had an inkling that it had to do with the pirate she had been avoiding as of late. Ever since the night that Hawke had heard Isabela 'plying her trade,' the mage refused to enter the Hanged Man. However Arya had no choice in the matter since she had no other place to lodge, and had run into the pirate more than a few times.

After one late night excursion with Hawke, she had returned to boisterous singsong voices. When she entered she laughed at the scene. Isabela was being lifted by at least three men and they were singing some dreadful pirate song at the top of their beer-filled lungs. They went around the whole tavern until Norah decided it was getting a little out of hand with 'Captain Isabela' leading the rowdy men. Arya laughed and took a seat at the bar as Norah tried her best to get everyone to settle down. Meanwhile the Fereldan ordered a mug of ale and drank to her heart's content.

"Well don't you have pretty face?" A slurred yet luscious voice whispered in her ear.

Arya blushed and sat in slight shock as Isabela took a seat by her. Hawke had mentioned, once or twice, the very lovely features that Isabela was endowed with, and Arya was beginning to notice that words didn't do the pirate justice. She was well endowed to the point of making Arya doubt her own merit.

"Wait a second," Isabela stifled a burp as she rubbed her eyes, "You…" She pointed at Arya and caused the younger woman to tense up. "You… you are," Isabela smirked and leaned in dangerously close to the beautiful Fereldan. "I know you." She placed a finger on Arya's lips.

"I,I,Isabela is it?" Arya leaned back and away from the pirate's intoxicating allure and as well as her intoxicated breathe.

"Captain Isabela to you." Isabela wagged her finger and scolded the girl. "I'm just missing my ship is all," she muttered at the end. "Anyways, you… you seem very familiar." Isabela grabbed the girl's chin and turned her face left and right.

"Hey!" Arya gasped as the pirate pulled her directly to her bosom, which was ample enough to bury her. "Stop manhandling me!"

"Believe me sweet thing I don't handle men as nicely as I'm handling you." Isabela chuckled at the disheveled woman and smiled. "Still I feel like I should remember you."

Arya gulped and wondered what would become of her if the pirate did recognize who she was. Hawke hadn't been too clear on how she ended her 'relationship' with Isabela, but Arya was fairly certain that it wasn't pleasant business. She hadn't actually seen Isabela in a fight, but from what she could hear of the bar brawls she knew that a duel would put her at a clear disadvantage.

"I think perhaps I should leave." Arya slid off her bar stool and made her way towards her lodgings but not before Isabela could grab her wrist.

"Now even if I can't remember where you're from doesn't mean we can't have any fun!" Isabela sloppily dragged the girl into her room.

Arya could have easily evaded the pirate since she was hardly able to walk in a straight line but she was afraid leaving Isabela this drunk would surely be harmful.

"I don't want the type of fun you're hinting at." Arya politely responded as she took hold of Isabela's hands, which were currently busy trying to untie the back of the girl's tunic. "And I'm not the one you want to have fun with." She pushed Isabela back on to her bed and smiled when she saw the pirate had passed out at the exertion. "Maker's breathe, I hope you don't remember this in the morning."

Arya still wasn't sure if Isabella had indeed forgotten their interaction, but she had a feeling the pirate could recall even the darkest of memories during her drunken escapades. A few nights after that the Fereldan bowman had another encounter with the beautiful Rivaini. Hawke had dropped her off again and upon entering the tavern this time, a bulky, towering man approached her. Arya would have walked past him if that were in fact possible, but he was a walking wall with tree trunks for arms.

"My boys here don't believe I could bed such a lady as you, and we're going ta prove them wrong, aren't we?" His voice boomed and even his hiccups sounded like small explosions and his burps like rolling earthquakes.

Arya furrowed her brows and basically turned to walk the other way. It was rather a surprise when she felt two massive, boulder-sized hands grab both sides of her arms and lift her. She kicked violently at the man's face and planted her boot into his stony jaw. He groaned but didn't relinquish his vice grip on her torso.

"Let go of me!" She shouted and continued to squirm in vain.

"I always liked a little bit of fire in my women." He chuckled and made to walk out of the bar when a rather voluptuous heroine intervened.

"Now, now it's never polite to play with things that aren't yours." Arya turned to find Isabella blocking the doorway.

"You're welcome to join in the fun." The giant made a lunge for Isabella's wrist but stumbled forward as the pirate made a quick step back.

"I'm sorry big boy I'm not in the mood for stupid and ugly." Isabella unsheathed her daggers and made quick to pinpoint the giant's vulnerable spot. Now with the dagger inches from the man's groin, the giant stood still. "Put her down and I'll let you stay as much of a man as you'll ever be."

The giant looked back and was about to signal his man when a firm and hardened piece of metal slammed against his face, and the girl he had been carrying escaped from his grasp. He had been so intent on not moving to protect his only claim to manliness that his grasp had loosened on Arya. She quickly used that to her advantage and used her bow to smack his face inwards. As she tumbled to the side, Isabela grabbed her wrist and led her to the back of the tavern– a brawl was about to ensure.

"Stay here!" Isabela commanded as she pushed the girl up the stairs and returned to the other four men that had already unsheathed their rusty blades.

"By the Fade I will!" Arya retorted and watched as Isabella engaged the combatants with swift and sure movement. Then she saw a man slink behind her and she knew she couldn't refrain from the brawl any longer. As the man raised the blade to stab the pirate on the shoulder, Arya let an arrow fly and pierced the man's arm. "Gotcha!" The Fereldan smirked and disregarded all the shrieks and shouts that ensued. She joined the pirate and fought at her back, making sure that no one got close enough to threaten their immediate health.

"Alright that's enough!" Norah shouted and thumped a mug on the wooden table. "I've just about had it!" She roared and threw the mug at the combatants. One of them managed to catch it and checked to see if there were any droplets of ale left. "Do you know who has to clean all of this up?" Her eyes began to look a little crazy as they peered forward, "I DO!"

Isabela backed up with a sheepish grin and took hold of Arya's wrist, "we really should go now. Norah can handle the rest, really, let's go now."

Isabela rushed out to the back of the tavern once more and chuckled at the thought of Norah's wrath. She had once been caught in that woman's storm and wasn't sure which was worse: the Qunari horde trailing behind her or Norah with a damned broomstick.

"Well that was a bit of fun, wasn't it?" Isabela chuckled and let go of the other girl's wrist.

Arya remained silent and once or twice tried to formulate a response, but it felt strange.

"Thanks for helping me." She finally managed to speak.

"I wasn't helping you; I was saving that man's life." Isabela retorted with a grin. "I can only imagine what Hawke would have done, had you been taken against your will."

Arya felt her chest tighten at the mention of Hawke and wondered how much Isabela knew about them. She ran her fingers through her midnight tresses and looked up to find the pirate's golden eyes watching her.

"I can see why she likes you. You're very beautiful." Isabela drew closer to the bow woman until she was close enough to cup her chin. "You remind me of her, before she set off into the Deep Roads."

There was a longing in her voice; a yearning that Arya could feel in her touch. She missed Hawke that much was clear. Her golden eyes wavered for a second before they hardened.

"She misses you too, you know." Arya felt her voice tremble and her heart shriveled at the words. She didn't want Hawke to leave her and return to Isabella, but she couldn't stop the words from spilling out regardless.

"You're kind… or cruel, I'm not sure which one." Isabella murmured as she held the Fereldan in her arms. This is how it never was with Hawke because she couldn't let that happen. The stupid mage would get all kinds of fanciful ideas in her head and no doubt try to tie her down. "I should hate you for taking her away. Do you know how long it's been since I've had good sex?" Isabela smiled up at her but it was laced with sadness.

"You practically gave her away, and as for sex," Arya muttered as she looked at the wall beside her, "you seem to have that pretty often enough." She blushed.

"But it's not good sex; it's just sex." Isabella replaced her sad smile with a mischievous grin. "I remember Hawke as a virgin, and you look like you'd be just as good." With her quick swift, rogue abilities she pushed Arya against the wall and planted a firm kiss on her lips.

To Arya's credit, she tried her best to fight off the pirate's tongue but Isabella was far more experienced in duels of all kinds. Once the kiss ended and Arya could finally breathe she pushed the pirate away.

"I thought you said it wasn't polite to play with something that's not yours."

Isabela stood back astounded at having her own words used against her. She had indeed said that exact phrase but she had only said it out of dramatic necessity, not actual ideology. The pirate threw up her hands and scoffed.

"Fine you win this round, but I may just break those rules one of these days." The pirate winked and went back to the bar.

That was the last she had seen of the pirate, and she didn't know if her last line was directed at her or at the mage that now leaned on her. Hawke watched as Arya's face contorted in several delightful ways, and much to the mage's amusement the bow woman had no idea she was being watched.

"What's on your mind?" Hawke sat up straight as she looked at her lovely partner.

Arya jumped a bit at the question but replied with a sheepish grin that it was nothing. She wasn't sure how much she should tell the mage and which parts would make her wish that she had never left Isabela.

"You're a bad liar."

"Would you rather I be a good one." Arya jested. "It's just… you seem sad."

Hawke's widened a bit at the accusation but couldn't deny that she felt a certain sadness creep up on her. The mage sighed and cradled her head in her hands. She had no reason to be sad. She had a beautiful, kind and witty girl that treated her lovingly and was patient as Andraste herself.

"I never told you how I ended it with Isabella, did I?" Hawke raised herself up off the floor and extended her hand to Arya.

Arya shook her head and followed the mage to whichever section of the house she wanted to go. By this time everyone had slinked off to bed and curled up in their warm blankets to dream about Mabari pups and such. Hawke ventured off into the left and entered a room with a fireplace already lit.

"We were going to have dinner here," Hawke muttered as she took a seat on the pillows thrown about on the floor, "and then we would have sat here and enjoyed each other's company."

"No reason to delay the latter." Arya settled next to Hawke and kissed her on the nape of her neck as she snuggled with the mage's body.

Hawke caught Arya's eyes and found their lilac color to be tinged with desire. Her body trembled lightly as she felt Arya push her back on the pillows and watched as the Fereldan hovered above her. The bow woman looked down at her lover and let her hair cascade down to caress the other's face.

"You miss her." The words came out barely above a whisper.

Hawke turned away from the girl's imploring lilac eyes. She didn't want to think about Isabella now, especially with Arya straddling her like she was. Why did she have to say that at this exact moment?

"I… I just didn't end things well with her."

"I'll tell you what was on my mind earlier if you tell me what happened."

Hawke bit her lip and mulled over whether or not this was a fair trade until she got a nip on her neck that told her Arya wasn't as patient as she thought.

"Deal." Hawke planted a kiss on Arya's forehead and sat up before she recounted the events that plagued her heart.

When Hawke first stepped into the tavern she already felt her heart pounding and wondered if Isabella would be able to tell. Much to the mage's relief and horror, the pirate was nowhere to be found. Hawke decided to take a seat at the bar, and with a flask in her fist quickly emptied the contents of a number of mugs. When the pirate finally made her appearance Hawke was well beyond her normal drinking range. Isabella laughed at the flushed Hawke but pulled her towards her room nonetheless. Hawke felt the room spin as she was pulled along to the back of the tavern and felt her stomach lurch in uncomfortable ways.

Before she could understand what was happening, Hawke was lying with her back against Isabela's bed. Hurriedly the mage scrambled with the sheets and pushed at what she assumed to be Isabela's body.

"No! This isn't what I want." Hawke slurred out as she sat up tangled in the sheets.

"You're being silly, why else would you come and get drunk at the tavern." Isabela forced the mage back down and held each of her wrists above her head. "You got bored with that dog girl you managed to pick up and came looking for fun with me."

"Dog girl?"

"The Fereldan, dog girl." Isabela began to leave a trail of kisses on Hawke's neck. "I don't mind of course, you can chase dog girls if you'd like. As long as I still get to have you."

Hawke fidgeted violently once more and roughly pushed the pirate away. Her vision was blurred and as she raised a hand to rub her eyes she realized she had been crying. It wasn't enough; Isabella's offer wasn't enough. It pained the mage to push the pirate away, but it had to be done.

"I want her, not you; she gets to have me, not you." Hawke spoke clearly and triumphantly as she rose from the bed. "You're…" Hawke blamed the next words that came out of her mouth on the alcohol, "a whore."

And with those words out, Isabella's eyes lit on fire. The word whore had been used to describe her plenty enough times and even she admitted to being a somewhat apt character to fit the noun, but having Hawke call her that was something else altogether. She was tempted to throw a dagger at the mage's smooth forehead, or at the very least carve her tongue out, but when she saw Hawke stumble back, trip over her own feet, and cry as she crashed to the floor, she paused. She hovered above the mage and bit her lip. Her anger turned to pity and then to disgust. This is what Hawke had been diminished to: a groveling drunk.

"I'm not sure what happened after that… I passed out, I think." Hawke concluded her story.

"You think?" Arya raised a brow.

"The next day I was back in my bed, tucked in and everything."

"She brought you home."

"No, it was probably Varric… or Merril, or Aveline… or–"

"She's not that bad, you know." Arya cut in and relayed her dealings with Isabela to the doubtful mage.

Meanwhile, at the Hanged Man Isabela was doing some recounting of her own. That last night with Hawke kept replaying in her head, pulling at the strings of her sanity and torturing her slowly. After the mage had fallen on the floor, Isabella had hit her over the head with a rather large book and she was knocked unconscious. Even now Isabela couldn't decide if she did it out of anger or out of selfish desire. Once the mage was knocked unconscious she gathered her up in her arms and cradled her. Isabella felt the need to cry, so cry she did as she cradled the mage she had developed too strong of feelings for.

"Why Hawke? Why have you become like this?" She pulled her closer. "I can't be what you want me to be, I'm sorry, I really am. I…" Isabela choked on her tears as she nestled in the crevice of Hawke's neck, "I have to let you go, don't I?"

That night she had told Hawke how she really felt, she had held Hawke the way she had always wanted to but never could, and she had vowed to give up the mage for good as she lay her in her bed at the estate. With a chaste kiss to the mage's lips, Isabella said goodbye. However saying goodbye was a lot easier than actually moving on and giving up. Isabella had thought about leaving Kirkwall, but duty kept her stationed until she could retrieve her relic, and seeing Hawke from afar was unavoidable.

Varric had advised her to make good with the mage, but that was so uncharacteristic of her that she knew Hawke would see right through it. She didn't want to make good with the mage; she wanted to make something a lot more hot and steamy with the mage than good could cover. Seeing her with that beautiful, charismatic girl didn't help things either. Hawke was laughing, smiling and shining brilliantly more and more, day by day… without her. That was the truth, though, wasn't it? Hawke never needed her and would never need her, and that was the way Isabela felt most comfortable. The pirate slammed her fist as a knot of pain twisted in her chest; why then did she feel so miserable? Why did she wish for Hawke to look at her the way she looked at the Ferelden dog who somehow knew how to wield a bow? She could easily get a number of eyes to follow her, and a number of gazes to imagine they were in love with her, but she wanted Hawke's gaze.

Then came the day when Hawke's gaze fell upon her and looked to her for comfort and answers. That's the day when Isabella caved in and ran as far and fast as she could from the eyes full of sorrow and loss.