Chapter 13: Sentimental Tune

The air tasted of salt and smoke as Isabela approached the docks; Hawke had been unconscious since their morning adventure yesterday. The pirate was left to her thoughts much to her dismay. It would have been far easier to simply have sex with the mage than fight off the sentimental urge that she was beginning to feel. In her heart she would always be a pirate, and nothing in this world could serve as a proper anchor… at least, that's what she had hardened herself to believe.

"Back here, are we?" The familiar clank of armor gave Aveline away.

"You seem to always know when I'm in need of some fine quality girl talk." Isabela teased the serious and stout woman that stood beside her.

"You can do better than that you slattern." Aveline smirked as Isabela's eyes sparkled with delight. "I heard Hawke is bedridden."

"Yes, well, she was a bit slow in running out of the collapsing cave we were in." Isabela tried her best to hide her fear behind her sassiest smile and remark.

"I saw you tending to her last night, we all did, so why deny your obvious care and worry?" Aveline sighed; she honestly thought Isabela would have snapped out of her macho, "I care about nothing but sex, booze and treasure" facade by now.

"Big girl, I think if I admit that… I might come undone." Isabela spoke quietly (something Aveline never thought the big-mouthed pirate capable of ever doing). "And the last thing anyone needs is for the one and only consistent member of this group to fall apart."

Aveline laughed at Isabela's assessment of herself. If anything, Isabela was only second to Hawke in self transformation. She was only good at fooling herself, but maybe that was coming to an end, and the pirate would accept her evolving heart.

"Finally, you've admitted that you're part of the group, Hawke's group. For better or for worse, we've all been drawn to Kirkwall by Hawke, and I have a feeling most of us won't be leaving it until she does." Aveline placed her hand on Isabela's shoulder. "I'm convinced even if you had your damn boat, you'd be docked in Kirkwall until you managed to kidnap Hawke onto your vessel."

Isabela grinned as the idea flashed through her mind. That wouldn't be a terribly bad idea at all. In fact, the pirate could tell that a terrible storm was brewing in Kirkwall's center, it would be smart to have a plan of escape. Aveline watched the pirate warily as she feared that her words had been taken too literally.

"I should be off, if I'm to kidnap Hawke, I'll need a ship, and if I'm to have a ship I'll need gold. I'm glad all these usually thought of criminal acts are sanctioned by the guard-captain herself."

"Isabela," Aveline groaned, "I'd be the first to throw your ass in the gallows."

"As only your man-hands would be capable of." Isabela winked and dashed out of sight before Aveline could give her a good clobbering.

The rogue dodged a few decent-sized rocks thrown her way, and ended up near the Hanged Man where she could hear the bellowing of drunkards coming from within. As she walked into the tavern she caught the eye of a very merry elf. The pirate chuckled as Merrill jumped in her arms with a very loud and long hello. Varric, who was sitting by the dapper youth, sent a small smile their way and shrugged his shoulders.

"She's literally only had a sip from my mug." Varric helped Isabela sit with Merrill unwilling to let go of the voluptuous pirate. "I'm glad she's never been brave enough to order her own."

"Kitten, aren't you more touchy than usual!" Isabela gasped as she felt Merrill nuzzle her head into her bosom. Isabela rolled her eyes as more than a few men began to attentively watch the two women. "Come now kitten let's not giving anything else out for free." She gently pulled the elf out of her chest and couldn't help but feel so touched by Merrill's pout. "Andraste's tits, you are too cute for your own good!" She shoved Merrill right back where she had just pulled her away from.

"So did you at least get the treasure from that cave that Hawke nearly perished in?" Varric interrupted the slight debacle going on in front of him; he was curious what Isabela's full story was.

When Isabela had first come into town, she looked completely defeated and sullen. Hawke was completely unconscious and looked to be on the brink of death. With both in such a ragged state, no one really bothered with the how of things other than Isabela saying that they had gone to the Wounded Coast in search of treasure. Varric had a feeling that Isabela was chasing a lead that he had dropped on her a few days ago.

"It was just a dusty old book, unfortunately." Isabela tried to deflect any kind of serious conversation. "Hawke said it was a tome of sorts."

"A tome," Varric sighed, "and here I was expecting something a little more dressed from you."

"I'm sure I'll come up with a more entertaining story eventually."

"And the cave collapsed after you disturbed the tome's resting place?"

"Pretty much, Hawke got the worst of it."

"Rivaini you are especially bad at lying today; it's almost like you want to get caught." Varric leaned in, "Hawke can usually handle a landslide or two, what really had you two running out of that cave?"

"Look here Varric, there were demons and rocks falling on our heads, it was just a bad situation! There was nothing I could have done to-" Isabela felt her throat clench as she recalled Hawke's small, sadistic smile when that boulder was about to crush her. "I have to go."

The pirate pulled the constantly nuzzling Merrill from her bosom and placed her in Varric's arms before he could chase after her. Why was everyone prying into her business? Why couldn't they just wait for Hawke to wake up and tell them whatever she wanted to? They would easily swallow her words, and they wouldn't push her for more details they way they were pushing her. But Hawke couldn't do the talking because she still hadn't awaken. She rushed through the streets of Kirkwall and found herself at the window of Hawke's bedroom.

The mage was sleeping peacefully and save the minor bruises and cuts on her arms and legs, she was perfectly set to recover. Isabela let herself in and lay next to the unconscious Hawke. Her bed was literally big enough to be a small house in the alienage. She glanced over Hawke's features and sighed as her gaze turned to the fireplace.

"Hawke, sometimes I wish you wouldn't wake up." Her voice drifted on the cackling of the flames. "It would just end here and you could look forever at peace. All your pain would end, my confusion would end, and you'd probably meet up with Arya in whatever kind of horribly cheesy afterlife the Maker has set up for us all… well not all of us." Isabela sighed, "But sometimes I can't stand the thought of losing you; of never seeing you again." Her voice began to grow smaller. "Sometimes I wish you were just another nobody, like me, and we could travel the world together. And sometimes I wish I could just tell you how much that I love you." Isabela let that last sentence slip out the quietest.

"Isabela?"

The pirate jumped out of bed the moment she recognized Hawke's voice.

"Maker's balls how long have you been awake?" Isabela felt the urge to dash off before Hawke could even answer that question.

Hawke winced as she sat herself up on her head board, but never kept her gaze off of Isabela.

"Don't make me cast a paralyzing spell on you." Hawke smiled as she read Isabela's tense stature and nervous smirk.

"As if you could muster up the energy." Isabela wasn't sure why she was playing along with Hawke's jests; she should have been out of the estate by now.

"I woke up to your voice," Hawke patted the space by her on the bed. "I'm awake now and there's no going back."

Isabela sat by the mage and found it hard to look her in the eye. Hawke had never been demanding ever since Isabela had roughly pushed back any notions of love.

"I also sometimes wish I could just buy a boat and sail away with you to Maker knows where… at least I used to wish that, a long time ago." Hawke leaned on Isabela's shoulder. "It seems like ages ago when I first met you. I was completely unprepared."

"You seemed perfectly prepared, sweet thing." Isabela tried to turn the conversation sexual before it could get too emotional.

"Perhaps in that aspect I surprisingly was, but I wasn't ready for the kind of love you were willing to give." Hawke could feel the sharp intake of breath that Isabela took. "I wanted you to love me the same way I loved you."

"Hawke I-"

"But now it seems that you do." Hawke didn't let Isabela continue. "Isabela, before you speak, I must admit… I'm not sure I have anything left to give back. Since mother and Arya died, I feel like a good portion of my heart died along with them." Hawke's words were cold and empty.

"I don't expect you to love me back Hawke." Isabela felt something snap within her and suddenly she felt very weak. Just as she was about to get up, she felt Hawke's body tremble as her head nestled closer into the crevice of her neck… was Hawke crying? "Hawke,are you-"

"Please… don't go." It was the smallest of requests; the most heartfelt plea that Hawke had allowed herself, but would it be enough to keep the pirate by her?

Hawke wasn't certain if she could love Isabela as she once had, or if she could leave the memories of Arya behind her. For all she knew, she was just setting herself up for more pain, and her health couldn't take it. With Kirkwall falling to pieces every other minute, the estate in her hands, and the pain of the past, she wasn't sure she was free to be happy. She took in the scent of spice and sun from Isabela's hair, and remembered the light-hearted quests that they had once tackled together. Her smile was brighter; her heart had been lighter- remnants of a life lost to her.