Chasing the Horizon

Partners in Crime

 Isabela had built a fortress around her heart for years now. She never thought of herself as worthy of love, which was also the reason why she had her own ways to run from it. It was something she had learnt at a young age, and the last time she made that mistake? It didn't end well.
 The man she had fallen for at the time, decided to ask her hand in marriage one day, and Isabela simply couldn't handle the commitment. He ended up leaving, heartbroken, and all because of her. She had nothing against love itself, but she always preferred the physicality of it.
It wasn't as messy and, normally, no one would end up hurt, she would not end up hurt. Even getting stabbed during a duel felt more natural, it was a pain that would soon heal while a broken heart, well, it would certainly take longer.

- You might be just who I'm looking for. I need someone to watch my back.

- What makes you think I'm right for this?

- I can't trust anyone in this place, but you? You're different.

 Little did they know that this was just the beginning, for they had a long journey ahead. None of the misfits were known for letting their feelings take control of a situation, or at least the two of them liked to think that way. However, their acts weren't as strong as they thought, and the masks were starting to shatter.

 As the years passed by, Isabela and Hawke came to enjoy each other's company. Maybe a little too much, no matter how much Isabela tried to keep her distance. She knew what was to come, she knew what she had to do, what she was going to do, and yet? She couldn't stop herself from following Hawke around, errand after errand, trying to keep Kirkwall from its self-destruction. The pirate even started to care about the city itself, and considered calling it home at one point. It felt so wrong, and yet so right? The more these strange thoughts were afloat on her mind, the more she turned to sex and drinking, but it didn't last long. Drinking made her thoughts more vivid, feeling more than she was supposed to, and someone at the tavern probably heard her rambling at some point. She just hoped that that someone wouldn't be Hawke, now that would've been embarrassing. Even the sex was starting to bore her. It was always the same faces, the same bodies, the same sounds... She wouldn't even properly orgasm anymore, it felt ridiculous.

 She often caught herself imagining how it would feel like to be with Hawke instead, how her slender fingers would feel on the pirate's rough skin, what the mage's tongue would feel like exploring her body while her ocean eyes drowned her in the feeling... But upon hearing another bad joke from Hawke herself, she snapped out of it, laughing at how bad it actually was. Isabela was afraid. Scared shitless as Varric would probably put it, and she'd agree, with a sigh, knowing he would be right.

- Let's hope you're better at sex than you are at telling jokes.

- I admit that Varric tells them better than me, I don't know how he does it...

- It's probably the chest hair, sweet thing.

 Good thing her way of being consisted mostly of flirting and sex, at least she could insinuate whatever she wanted to without having to address the strong feelings she felt within. She was glad Hawke intervened though, stopping her thoughts from going further as it was already making her feel warm inside. It could also be the alcohol, or maybe a little bit of both. Either way, even though she trusted Hawke with her life, she couldn't tell the mage what the relic really was, or what she intended to do with it, or what could even possibly happen to the city... She didn't mean to get attached in the first place, but shit happens! And Isabela was a natural at running away from something messier than the sheets on her bed.

- Why is there only one tavern in all of Kirkwall?

- Do you think people would drink this cheap alcohol anywhere else?

- Who wouldn't want to taste a rat flavoured whiskey?

- As long as it still gets you going!

 The half-emptied glasses touched each other, as if for a toast, but what could that toast possibly be about? To bad whiskey? To Kirkwall? To friendship? To each other?

 Thoughts roamed through Isabela's mind like an untamed tide, one she had failed to control. Could she sail through the waves this time, or was she meant to wreck her ship again?