"How much does this one cost?" I heard someone sneer, and felt the sting of a hand slapping my arse. I stopped in my tracks, closing my eyes, swallowing a wave of fury. We had been in the Pearl for less than five minutes and it was already worse than I had anticipated. Not because of the ladies. They were lovely. I had nothing but respect for sex-workers. But the patrons left a lot to be desired. It takes a special kind of toxicity to not only pay for sex, but to hang out with your buddies drinking before and afterwards. I started to walk forward again, deciding to let it go, to pick my battles, when I felt another slap, this one more aggressive than the first, followed by lewd laughter.
"How much?" He asked again. Before I could stop myself, I reached out behind me, reflexively, and caught a hold of the offender's wrist, twisting the man's arm up his back, painfully.
"Not much. Only your life, if you ever touch me again." I snarled in his ear, before releasing him with a shove. The anger I felt came not only from his treatment of me, but from the thought that this was how he treated the women here in general. Just because he was paying for it didn't mean he had the right to be so disrespectful.
"Bitch!" He barked, his face reddening with anger and embarrassment. He was short and stout, with a long ginger beard and thinning hair. You know the type.
"Thank you." I replied, nodding in agreement. "But if I'm a bitch, what does that make you? Because I'm pretty sure I just made you my bitch, bitch."
A chorus of jeers and laughter went up around us, and his face glowed scarlett.
"I should slit your pretty throat." He threatened, emboldened when a couple of his friends joined him, leering at me lasciviously. My eyes darted over to where Alistair and Grayson stood with the rest of my companions, deep in conversation with the Madame, oblivious to the unfolding scene.
"I'd rather you didn't. That would be really painful." I said, frowning.
"No shit." He spat, drawing a dagger from the belt around his large waist. "I'm going to make you hurt."
"Oh no, sweetie, I meant it would be painful for you." I replied, narrowing my eyes. My confidence made him hesitate, but he had made too much of a show to back down now without losing face.
He opened his mouth to reply when a fierce growl from behind me cut him off, and his beetroot face suddenly blanched. I turned my head, expecting to see Larry, but coming face to torso with a much larger, infinitely more intimidating specimen.
"This filth dishonours you, Kadan." Sten spat and, even in the heat of the moment, I blinked in surprise at his use of the word. "Do you wish me to end his life?"
I knew his offer was a genuine one, and I turned back to the man, making a show of considering it. His eyes widened, and he sputtered a hasty apology.
"Sorry, what was that? I didn't catch it." I said, cupping my ear and leaning towards him.
"I said I'm sorry! I didn't know, I-I thought you worked here!"
"And that makes it okay? You come to this establishment, where these majestic women deign to treat you like a human instead of the life-sized sack of shit that you are, and you think you're entitled to lay hands on them like that?" I spat in disgust. "Your life is worth less than nothing to me, so you can keep it this time. But I don't ever want to see you disrespect any of these women like that ever again. Is that understood?"
"Y-yes." He said, looking thoroughly confused but grateful to be alive. I hoped that he had had enough of a scare to actually think twice in future. I thought about making him and his friends leave, but I didn't want to be responsible for losing the Pearl business.
"A round of drinks on this guy!" I called to the other men, and a round of cheers went up. He looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it, and I turned to Sten. "Thanks for having my back, man. That was cool of you."
"You are welcome. Though I do not know what temperature has to do with it."
"Kadan." I grinned, bumping him with my hip as we walked over to the others.
"Yes." He replied, unphased.
"That's cute."
He growled, but said nothing.
"What was all that cheering about?" Alistair asked, as I approached.
"I was juggling. They were into it." I said.
"Juggling?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I'll tell you later." I said, shaking my head dismissively. "Are our rooms ready?"
"Not yet. We thought maybe we'd have something to eat while we wait. Did you know they do food here?" He asked, incredulously.
"What a time to be alive." I grinned.
We found a table in the corner, near the bar, and the food was brought out in short order. We ate and drank mostly in silence, all of us hungry and tired from the day's efforts. I took a deep swig from my tankard of ale, barely registering the taste, and noticed that Zevran was watching another table with decided interest. I followed his gaze and choked on my ale when I realised who he was looking at. Alistair clapped me on the back as I coughed and sputtered, and the object of my attention looked round, making eye contact with me as I struggled to compose myself. She held my gaze, unflinchingly, and her lips curled in a flirtatious smile.
Yep. That's her, alright.
To my surprise, she rose from her seat and made her way towards our table, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. I didn't fail to notice that not one of the men she passed even looked at her, despite the fact that she oozed sexuality out of every pore. She reached our group and bent down, resting her palms on the table, still maintaining eye contact with me.
"I saw what you did back there. I like a woman who can hold her own." She said, with a wink.
"Hello?" Grayson said, puzzled by her sudden arrival. She tore her gaze from me to look at him and smirked, confidently.
"Why, hello." She purred, looking him up and down. "And who might you be?"
"Isabela!" Zevran leaned forward, nodding in greeting. "It has been too long, my friend."
"Zevran?" She cocked an eyebrow. "What are you doing here? Come to apologise for leaving me bereft of my Lord husband and then vanishing without a trace?"
"You know it was just business, Isabela." He said, flashing her a wicked smile. "Business that turned out well for you, I see. You inherited the ship, I take it?"
"Hmm. I suppose I never did like the greasy bastard, and The Siren's Call treats me far better than she ever did him." She said, flippantly, taking a swig from Grayson's tankard. He seemed too taken-aback by her boldness to protest.
"Indeed." He grinned, before addressing the table. "This is Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn. And Isabela, my dear, you will no doubt be amused to discover I am travelling with the Grey Wardens."
Grayson stiffened and threw Zevran a dirty look for outing us.
"Grey Wardens?" She ran her eyes over Alistair and Grayson, before settling on me. "Oh, yes, that's where I recognise you from. Your ransom posters don't do you much justice. Well, I suppose that explains it."
"Explains what?" Grayson asked, suspiciously.
"The juggling?" Alistair frowned in confusion.
"Nothing." I said, quickly, taking another swig of ale. I knew Grayson wouldn't be very pleased about the scene I had made, what with us keeping a low profile.
"Putting that bastard in his place doesn't count for nothing, sweet thing." Isabela said, and I flashed her a look. She seemed to realise I didn't want to get into it and quickly changed the subject. "Mind if I join you? You seem far more interesting than the dullards I was drinking with."
Before waiting for an answer, she pulled up a chair, spinning it around so that it was facing the wrong way and straddling it, draping her arms casually over the seat back.
"What's your name, sweet thing?"
"I'm Lauren. This is Grayson, Alistair, Leliana, Wynne and Sten." I motioned to each of them as I went round the table, and they each nodded in turn. She barely seemed to register the last three names, apparently too interested in Grayson, Alistair and I - I supposed the Grey Warden thing had really piqued her curiosity. In appearance, she most resembled her avatar from the second game, with caramel skin, dark hair pulled back in a maroon bandana and her ears and neck dripping in gold.
She told us that she and her crew were docked at Denerim to load up on supplies and "fun times", as she so tactfully put it, and I didn't have to look round at Alistair to guess what colour his face had turned. She signalled the barkeep to bring us another round of drinks, which I knew she would have no intention of paying for, and turned to Zevran.
"So, how did you end up on a noble quest?" She asked, curiously. He grinned.
"That is a long story…" He started, and I cut him off with a snort.
"It's not long, he just doesn't want to tell you." I said, and he rolled his eyes. "He was sent to assassinate us but he failed, because we're awesome. We made nice. Now he assassinates Darkspawn."
"Losing your touch, old friend?" She teased.
"Never." He replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and she grinned appreciatively.
"Would you like us to give you some time alone?" Grayson asked them, taking another drink and flashing me an amused look.
"Only if you're planning on joining us." She winked at him, and I felt Alistair fidget in his seat beside me. I placed a hand on his knee, absently, in an attempt to make him feel more comfortable, but it only seemed to have the opposite effect.
"So, Isabela." I said, breaking the awkward silence that had descended upon our end of the table. "You're a ship-captain? That must be such an exciting life."
I had always been obsessed with pirates. When I was twelve, I watched Pirates of the Caribbean for the first time and I genuinely cried myself to sleep one night when I realised I would never get to sail the high seas with Johnny Depp. I bought black, knee-high leather boots that I decided looked like pirate boots and exclusively wore shawls and open-necked shirts for about six months. I thought I looked cool as hell. With hindsight, I definitely just looked like a massive dork. The point is, I was having a difficult time maintaining my cool now that there was a real life pirate sitting right beside me.
"It has its moments." She said, with a casual shrug.
"I would love to see your ship." I gushed, enthusiastically.
"Is that a euphemism?" She asked, hopefully.
"No."
"Pity." She shrugged. Zevran chuckled.
"I'm afraid you will not get very far with this one, my dear." He told her, and I narrowed my eyes at his tone. "Her ship has never been...how should I say? Boarded."
"Zevran!" I gasped, shocked that he would objectify me that way. I mean, not shocked, because it was Zevran but still...I was a little shocked.
"Watch it." Alistair snapped, angrily.
"Yeah, watch it." I agreed, indignantly. He recoiled slightly under the glare of two pissed off Wardens, but brushed us off with an easy laugh.
"Intriguing." Isabela looked me up and down with renewed interest. "I never would have guessed. But wait, you're a Grey Warden, right?"
"What does that have to do with it?" I asked, feeling my face grow hot.
"Well, nothing, it's just...Grey Wardens have a dangerous job."
"And?" I demanded, wishing someone would rescue me from this moment.
"Aren't you worried that you'll die a virgin?"
"I'm worried that I'll die from this conversation." I muttered. "Die a virgin. Do you have to make it sound so…"
"Pathetic?" She offered, helpfully. I glowered at her. "I'm sorry, sweet thing. I don't mean to make you squirm...not like that, anyway. It would just be such a waste."
"What a weird thing to say. If I die, there's a good chance that I'll do so saving the frickin' world, I don't know many people who would see that as a waste. I'm more than a walking vagina." I insisted, and Alistair coughed, awkwardly.
"I know that-" She started, and I cut her off, sensing where she was going.
"Or tits." I added, sternly.
"You can be more than tits and arse and still enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. The Maker gave you those things for a reason, you know."
"Oh, so bedding me would be a holy mission, then?" I asked, sarcastically.
"Well, now that you mention it…"
I should have known from the moment she sat down that this conversation was going to make its way into the gutter. I turned to glare at Zevran.
"I'm going to shoot you again." I snapped.
"I didn't mean to rock the boat." Isabela said, though nothing in her tone or body language indicated that she was in the least bit apologetic. Alistair laced his fingers through mine and I made eye contact with him for the first time since Zevran had announced my virginity to the table. He smiled, sweetly at me, and I felt my shoulders relax as if a physical weight had been lifted from them. "Oh...I see there's someone else you'd rather have rocking your boat." She smirked, looking from me to Alistair.
"My God, woman, can you manage a full sentence without innuendo?" I asked in exasperation.
"Where's the fun in that?" She asked, finally turning her attention from me to Grayson.
After a round of shameless flirting, she challenged him to a game of Wicked Grace. He lost, repeatedly, and it wasn't until Leliana offered to play that Isabela's winning streak finally came to an end. I watched Grayson's reaction, wondering if there was any way he could possibly still believe that she was just a cloistered sister. Leliana seemed to share this thought, because she turned to smile at him, coquettishly.
"Beginner's luck, I suppose." She said, with a shy giggle.
"Hmm." Was his only response, and I thought I saw a shadow of concern flicker across the bard's face, only for an instant, before she teased her perfect mask effortlessly back into place. I wondered how much longer she could possibly keep this up, and why she was even bothering. We had recruited an assassin, for Heaven's sake, what did she imagine we would say if she told us? I reminded myself, swiftly, that I was in no position to question anyone's decisions vis-a-vis secret-keeping. But still, it wasn't like the world's core was going to implode if she confessed. I wasn't so sure the same was true for me.
The Madame called to Grayson to let us know our rooms were ready when we were, and we each received a numbered key which corresponded with our room numbers. We took the opportunity to store our belongings in our rooms and change out of our armour, before meeting back at the table. Neither Wynne nor Sten rejoined us, and Morrigan was still nowhere to be seen, but Isabela was waiting for us with another round of drinks. Zevran disappeared shortly after with a pretty brunette, a member of Isabela's crew, and the Rivaini gave them a wink of approval as they left.
As the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, my attention became more and more focused on the handsome ex-templar at my side, and I lost track of all conversation around me as we talked and drank, laughing and playing. We even played a game of Wicked Grace together using Isabela's cards. I assumed it was a well known Fereldan game and relied on him to tell me which of us had won, but when we showed our cards he looked up at me, expectantly.
"Did I win?" He asked, and I opened my mouth to confess I had no idea, before quickly closing it again and placing a sympathetic hand on his arm.
"Maybe next time." I said, and he looked down at the cards in confusion.
I looked around to see Leliana watching me with a knowing smile on her face and I covered my laughter with a cough.
"I have a game we can all play." She said, leaning towards Grayson. I realised that over the course of the evening, Isabela had moved in closer to him on one side and Leliana had mirrored her advances on his other side. They were practically sitting on his lap, but he didn't seem to notice or, if he did, he was enjoying the attention. I thought absently that it was probably a good thing that Morrigan wasn't present, or she might have turned them both into frogs.
"Is it a Chantry game?" Isabela asked, in a bored voice, and Leliana shot her a reproachful look.
"Not exactly." She replied, coolly. "In Orlais, we call it Action ou Vérité. Perhaps you've heard of it in your travels? I can tell you've been around a bit."
"I never stayed long in Orlais. I always found the people there to be frightfully dull and uptight." Isabella said, locking eyes with Leliana in an unspoken challenge.
"I'd imagine it was a little too high-class for your tastes." Leliana countered, sweetly.
"Is it just me or did the temperature in the room just drop a couple of hundred degrees in the last few seconds?" I whispered to Alistair out of the corner of my mouth.
"I think I can see my own breath in the air." He muttered in agreement.
"What are the rules, Leliana?" Grayson asked, apparently oblivious to the stand-off happening right next to him.
"The rules are simple." She reached for one of the empty wine-bottles on the table and placed it on it's side, giving it a spin. I groaned, in realisation, but she ignored me. "We turn the bottle and whoever it points to when it stops moving has to truthfully answer a question about themselves, or they can choose to forfeit."
"And what's the price of forfeiting?" I asked, uncomfortably.
"The forfeit will be decided by the last person the bottle pointed to." She said, and my eyes flickered to Isabela, warily. Lord knows what sort of devious tasks she was already dreaming up.
"That sounds like fun." Alistair said, innocently. "How do we know who wins?"
"There are no winners in this game." I grimaced, suddenly assaulted by the memory of discovering my sister had lost her virginity in the back seat of Seth Logan's Volkswagen Golf.
"We'll start off with an easy one. Who was your first love?" Leliana said, brightly. We all watched as the bottle spun in place, finally coming to a stop, pointing at Grayson. "Action ou Vérité?"
"Truth? Hmm…my first love was a girl named Katarina. She broke my heart, brutally. I'm not sure if I'll ever really recover from it."
"What happened?" Alistair asked, concerned.
"She left me for another man. A friend of mine, actually. Roderick Gilmore. He offered her half of his cookie and she chose him over me." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that."
"How...how old were you?" Leliana asked, puzzled.
"Seven." He replied, with a shrug, taking a drink. "But that first heartbreak is a scar that never fully heals."
"You're an ass." I grinned, and he winked at me.
"Maybe so, but I'm an honest ass. My turn?" He asked, and Leliana nodded, looking a little disappointed that his truth hadn't been juicier. "Okay...first kill."
The bottle landed on Leliana and she blushed, fiercely.
"Forfeit." She said, quickly, and everyone groaned.
"Okay." Grayson grinned, looking around the room, thoughtfully. "I want you to...stand on the table and howl like a wolf for thirty seconds."
Without hesitation, she climbed gracefully onto the table and faced the room, howling balefully in a wonderful imitation of a wolf with a slightly Orlesian accent. The other patrons stared, murmuring to one another, clearly wondering if she was unwell. We all applauded when Grayson motioned, through tears of mirth, that she could stop, and she curtsied, climbing back down into her seat, her face red but smiling.
"I rather like this game." Grayson said, wiping his eyes.
"That was a rubbish forfeit. You're supposed to make it something embarrassing." Isabela scoffed.
"It's your turn again, since I didn't answer your question." Leliana said, the blush in her cheeks starting to fade.
"Alright. What's something that you do in private that none of us know about?"
The bottle landed on me and I flinched, looking at their expectant faces.
"Sometimes I narrate Larry's thoughts in an Antivan accent." I said, honestly. Larry, who was sleeping at my feet, lifted his head to look at me when he heard his name. "What do you say, Warden? Ah, I see you still have some food there...that is for me, maybe?" I demonstrated, much to the amusement of the others, and dropped a half-eaten crust of bread into the mabari's waiting mouth. "Okay, my turn. Have you ever pictured anyone at this table naked? And if so, who?"
This time, it was Isabela's turn, and she shrugged.
"I've pictured all of you naked several times now. I'm picturing some of you naked right now. You really are an implausibly attractive bunch." She said, unabashed. "Now, let's make this interesting. Best and worst sexual encounters?"
Poor Alistair. He looked up at me in alarm when he realised it was his turn.
"I...well, I...I've never…" He coughed. "Forfeit."
"Wait…" Isabela said, leaning forward. "You're a virgin too? You're both virgins? You're both sexy, Grey Warden virgins in a relationship with each other and you haven't-"
"I said forfeit." Alistair whined, his face burning with the heat of a thousand suns.
"Oh, well, my forfeit is that you take this one up to bed right now and both of you have at it while the going's good." She said, seriously. I slumped forward, intentionally smacking my forehead off the table. Grayson and Leliana were both grinning as if Isabela had just said what everyone else had been thinking.
"Alright." Alistair said, jolting me out of my shame spiral, and I sat bolt upright, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. He looked me in the eye and swallowed, nervously. "Let's go."
Before I could protest, he took me by the hand and led me from the table, in the direction of our rooms. I turned my head to look at Grayson and Leliana as he pulled me along, dumbfounded, and their expressions matched my own. When we were out of sight of the others, he stopped walking and turned to face me.
"Alistair, I...I don't know if I'm ready, I…" I stammered, my heart thundering in my chest. His eyes widened in horror and he took both of my hands in his.
"No, no, neither am I! I just wanted to get out of there! I gave you a signal, I thought you knew what I was doing." He said, horrified.
"What signal?" I asked, and he looked me in the eye with a straight face. "What signal?" I repeated. He pointed to his face, and I squinted at him. "Really? What do you think you're doing with your face right now? Because you're just looking at me normally. That's not a signal, that's just a face."
"It's...gah, I'm an idiot. Wait, you really thought that I would just...like that?" He asked, eyeing me incredulously. "And...if you didn't know I was bluffing why did you come with me?"
I blushed, deeply, and averted my eyes.
"I don't know, I just...I trust you. And I wasn't going to turn you down in front of all our friends. I'm not an asshole." I muttered.
"But you were going to turn me down?" He clarified, his expression unreadable.
I shrugged.
"I don't know." I replied, biting my lip. "I mean...I want to...with you."
"Really? You do?" He breathed, as though he couldn't quite believe it.
"I do. Just...not yet. Like I said, I just don't know if I feel...ready. Sometimes I do. Sometimes when we're in camp and you're kissing me and you stop, I wish you would keep going. But...I don't know! I've never done this before. And I don't really want to do it here, of all places. Who knows what sort of depraved activity has taken place in these rooms? I don't want our first time to be in a brothel."
"We're really talking about this, aren't we?" He said, with a far-off look in his eyes. "I'm not dreaming?"
"Do you see an archdemon in this hallway?" I asked, and he nodded.
"Good point."
We stared at each other in the dim light of the hallway, and I realised I was holding my breath.
"My turn." I whispered. "Action ou Vérité. Don't freak out. I think...I think I love you. I mean, I'm in love with you. Do you...I mean, are you...having those sorts of feelings? At all?" I finished, awkwardly.
He studied me intently, a small frown creasing his brow, and I fought the urge to look away. He took a step towards me, taking my face in his hands.
"Lauren." He whispered. "I have loved you from the first moment I met you. Of course. Of course I'm in love with you. Or didn't you know that already?"
He kissed me softly and sweetly, and I reached for his shoulders, pulling him closer to me, and the kiss deepened. It was tender, loving, before sparking with something else, something more urgent than love, and his hands roamed over my back, to my neck, pulling me closer still. We broke apart with a gasp, panting and gazing into each other's eyes.
"Action ou Vérité." He breathed, his eyes dark and hooded with desire. "You said sometimes when we're kissing, you wish I would keep going. Is this one of those times?"
"Forfeit." I gasped, as he captured my lips with his again, desperately, before pulling away, leaving a fiery trail of long, slow kisses down my neck. My breath hitched in my throat and my fingers tangled in his hair as I arched into him, simultaneously wondering wildly what we were doing and finding myself unable to care about anything other than the heat of his body against mine. "Forfeit."
AN: Thank you so much to my beta, Kira Tamarion, for getting this to me at such short notice.
Thanks for all your support for this story so far, and please review! We're at 99 reviews right now, so whoever pushes us into triple digits gets a gift fic! Just PM me with your request. If there's a scene between some of my characters that you want to see, let me know!
Thank you to Giggle813, Chimera Spyke, TheGrandTootah, LeliMor29 and both guests for your reviews! I'm glad to see people seem to be liking the changes that have started to happen in Ferelden, because there are some pretty big ones coming up. Goldanna was my canary down the mine. I'm kind of nervous about the next few chapters because things are changing prettttttty dramatically, but isn't that what AU Dragon Age is all about?
Just a quick disclaimer, I won't be able to upload next week because I'll be sunning myself on a Greek island with a handsome doctor (true story) but I'll do my absolute utmost to post the following week. May is going to be a busy month, but I'll do what I can to stick to a weekly schedule as much as I can.