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In the Llomerryn market, Isabela left Garrett staring wistfully at the dwarven weaponsmith's display so she could comb through the bookseller's stall. They'd done nice things for some local nobles in the last week or two, and a few extra sovereigns could be spared for non-necessities. Although a new book was rapidly becoming a necessity; she practically had Hessarion's Spear memorized.
She brushed her fingers over the spines, impatiently scanning titles. A collection of lore about the Hero of Ferelden...yet another mage/templar romance...Binky the Bravest Mabari...The Pirate Queen's Passionate Promise? That sounded worth a look.
The back cover was enticing. She, feared from the Anderfels to the Amaranthine Ocean for her deadly daggers and killer body. He, a refugee from a broken land with only a sword and iron will to call his own. Would their love survive the web of deceit in which she was ensnared? Or would he be betrayed by...The Pirate Queen's Passionate Promise?
Oh yes, this had potential. She let the book fall open.
"How could you, Isadora?"
"He was threatening you, Stringfellow. Well, that, and I fancied his signet ring." She laughed carelessly, her bosom swaying like the rise and fall of the waves. "What does it matter? We're safely away."
"Because it was wrong." Stringfellow's blue eyes shone into hers, as though he could make her comprehend by will and love alone. "I know you didn't like him, but we made a deal."
"You men make the deal. I chart my own course." Ignoring the pang in her heart that she had caused her beloved warrior disappointment, Isadora leaned against him. Her lips brushed his, soft and salt as seafoam. "And right now, mine ends with you under me in my bunk."
"I'm going to kill him," Isabela said out loud, flipping the book closed to stare at the cover. A dark-skinned woman--Maker's breath, she knew she had a nice pair of tits, but that was just ridiculous--wearing a very familiar pair of earrings was in a clinch with a bearded fellow in armor, posed against a multihued sunset. The title was scrawled above their heads in ostentatious script. And the author's name was 'Cirrav Sarteth.'. "Anagrams are not going to save you, Varric!"
"Darling, you're scaring the proprietor." Garrett kissed the top of her head and peered over her shoulder. "What have you found?"
Isabela shoved the book into his hand. "Read a page. Any page."
He opened it. After a moment, his eyebrows rose. "His shaft as hard as the tempered steel he carried, heated by the forge-fires of his passion? Really?" He turned the page. "And where did he get 'Stringfellow'? What kind of a name is that?"
"I'm going to remove Varric's innards even if we have to bring a fleet of qunari to invade Kirkwall again!"
"Isabela, love. Don't hurt me, but how exactly is this different from your friend-fiction about Aveline and Donnic?"
"It's completely different!" She glared at the book. "I did that out of love! He's doing this for profit, Garrett! And he's not sharing!"
"Ah...serah? Madam?" The stallkeeper was wringing his hands. "Is everything all right?"
"Everything is fine," Garrett assured the elf. "My wife gets very emotional about books. Do you have anything else by this Sarteth individual?"
"Of course, serah. He's quite popular." He handed a few more volumes to Garrett and, nervously, two to Isabela. "Let me know when you're ready."
Isabela continued glowering at the books, all three. "Oh look, darling, we're a trilogy. The Pirate Queen's Passionate Promise, Gallows of Her Heart, and Templars and Tempests. Apparently, you think I'm cheating on you with Knight-Captain Cullen--I mean, Colin."
He didn't answer, and she heard a muffled snort. She turned and saw him leaning on a table, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Whatever you've got, it can't possibly be worse."
Blinking away tears of mirth, Garrett began to read the back cover in dramatic fashion. "Enslaved by the cruel Tevinters since childhood, Wulf hated all magic-users, hunting them with deadly persistence to avenge his murdered family. But Andren, a Fereldan apostate, was different. Andren fought beside him. And Andren was slowly breaking down his walls..."
"Flames. Somewhere, Fenris is pissed and doesn't know why."
"Wait, it gets better. Under the raven-feathered robes of an apostate beat a strong heart, a fighter's heart...a woman's heart. Andreana knew she could never tell Wulf her last and greatest secret, despite the bond they shared. Yet she longed to show him...Love's Deep Magic."
"You're making that up!" She snatched the book out of his hand, scanned the text. "Andraste's nose, you're not making it up."
"And look at the cover." They both stared at the sight of a silver-haired elf--no glowing tattoos, at least--and a blonde mage in black robes staring at him longingly. The face was more delicate, and the cover artist had taken care to show that the mage was female, but the resemblance was obvious. Garrett snickered. "I almost wish I knew where that damnfool mage had gotten to, just so I could send this to him."
"Does this mean you've forgiven him?"
"Not...quite. Give me another few years. And I'm buying this one." He waved the proprietor over. While he was paying, Isabela calmly tucked the volumes of the pirate trilogy into her pack. She'd be put to the flames before letting Varric profit one more copper.
Late that night, after Garrett had kissed her (quite thoroughly) and gone to sleep, Isabela crept to the table and began scribbling by candlelight. It didn't take long. Before dawn, Betrayed by Bianca was outlined in full.