Birthday Month Fic - #5

[galadriel1010]

Prompt: Attempt At Humour
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: f!Hawke/Isabela

Isabela flirts with everyone. Hawke isn't sure if she minds.

“My, that’s a big knife. Would you like me to show you how to handle it properly?”

“I hope you know what you’re doing with that staff. Wouldn’t want you to get over-excited.”

“Would you kiss your mother with a mouth like that? Come over here and I’ll put it to better use.”

Hawke slammed a fireball into the chest of the man who’d attracted Isabela’s attention most recently and the cursing returned, briefly. “Isabela, I’m going to get very jealous if you keep flirting with the men trying to kill us.”

“It’s alright, darling.” She lashed out with her daggers and another man’s screams were cut off. “You know I’d share if I brought one home.”

“You say the nicest things.” Another man stumbled into one of her traps. By the time the smoke cleared the fight was over except for the clean-up, which they decided to leave to someone else and get out of there. The Hanged Man was closer than the Hightown estate, and didn’t have Leandra bustling about the place, so they slipped through the bar, collecting a bottle of Chasind Sack Mead on the way through to Isabela’s room, and threw themselves down in front of the fireplace, which Hawke lit the fire with a blast of golden flame.

“You’re not still sour, are you?” Isabela ran her fingers through Hawke’s hair and slid closer, practically into her lap. “You know I don’t mean it.”

Hawke rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t mean it right before you stab someone. But you do mean it sometimes.”

“Hmmm…” She looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “There was that Coterie girl… She would have been fun. For both of us, of course.”

“Of course.” Hawke played with the neck of the bottle and handed it over when Isabela reached for it. Her eyes wandered to Isabela’s throat, watching her swallow, and then down to her chest. Isabela smirked without looking at her and passed the bottle back over. “What about Seamus Dumar? I feel like we could distract him quite nicely.”

Isabela laughed. “He’s curious and decent, but not too decent. Might be fun. You could marry him, become the Viscountess, keep me around as your mistress.”

“You’d enjoy that.”

“So would you. I’m picturing you in silk sheets. Tied to a four poster bed.” She rolled over at that and rested her chin on Hawke’s chest. “Does it bother you?”

She thought about that for long enough that the answer was probably clear to Isabela, even if it wasn’t entirely clear to her. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Does it matter if it does?”

“I don’t know. I think…”

“If it did bother me, it wouldn’t end with me asking you to stop, or with you offering to. So I suppose I’ll just have to not let it.” She looked down at Isabela and smiled ruefully. “No bringing anyone home to the estate, though. Unless you’re sure we can sneak them past my mother.”

Isabela smiled up at her. “We’ll have to seduce Seamus at the Keep, then. He’s probably got finer sheets anyway.”

“You’re hopeless.” She dug a finger into Isabela’s side. “And too far away. Come up here.”