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It was one of those days.
Hawke lay on her bed, her body curled around itself as she stared blankly at the wall. The door had been shut and locked, despite her Mabari's whimpering protests, her robes tight around her body as her head sank lifelessly into the pillow. In just one room over, in another time, her mother would have been there. Sleeping, safe, free of worry for at least a few hours until Hawke inevitably left the house again to do who knows what.
She would be content, and when she woke up Hawke would be there to give her a hug and make her breakfast, asking her how she slept and telling her about the ships she "visited" with Isabela or the thugs she humiliated with Aveline. Mother would often disapprove, "You put yourself in too much danger!", but she would laugh at Hawke's stories all the same.
But now, she was gone. She was never coming back. Hawke grabbed an unused pillow and hugged it tightly, blinking a few times, continuing her relentless stare at the wall in front of her. She wanted to tear it down. No, no, she couldn't. She wanted to run away. She had no right to live in such a beautiful estate without her mother there. She had no right to fight as hard as she did without her mother there. With most of her family either dead or gone, what did Hawke even need in Kirkwall anyway? Living in this damned estate that she had no right to live in, not anymore, with only her piss-poor uncle in town who Hawke knew blamed her for her mother's death. And he was right. She was a mage, a disgrace, a stain on her family. She didn't deserve this.
She didn't realise she was crying until the pillow she was lying on became too wet to ignore. She let out a small groan of annoyance and roughly wiped the stray tears off of her cheeks. But she didn't stop looking at that wall.
Stupid, ugly wall.
That's when she heard the slight jiggle of her door handle. She briefly broke her intense stare to glance at her door, but the noise had stopped. She furrowed her eyebrows before figuring it was just the dog, and continued her staring. That was when the door opened.
Hawke flew upright after quickly wiping her eyes, blinking rapidly to gain focus on the person who had somehow unlocked her door from the outside.
"...Isabela?"
Sure enough, the pirate stood at the door, arms crossed and face contorted into a look of... concern? That was rare. Hawke flashed her a smile on instinct.
"I really need to get better locks. You know most people knock first."
"You didn't show up at the Hanged Man like you said you would," Isabela huffed. "And Aveline said she hadn't heard of anyone dying in the past few hours. And you didn't even acknowledge me when I got here! I wouldn't have even known you were home if it weren't for Bodahn's kind direction. You never go this long without flirting with me. Something's up."
Shit, Hawke had totally forgotten about her plans to meet up with Isabela for drinks. She had been too caught up in her little episode to even realise how much time had gone by. She forced out a laugh. "Well, you know me, gotta keep up the mystery somehow. Where's the fun in predictability?"
Isabela quirked an eyebrow but said nothing more.
Hawke let out a pouting sigh. "Come on, Bela, I'm sorry I forgot about our plans. I'll make it up to you, I promise. You can't fault me for this! What if I told you you're the best pirate I've ever known?"
"I'm the only pirate you've ever known," Isabela flashed a small smirk before walking in the room and shutting the door behind her. She made her way to the bed and sat on the edge of it. Hawke shifted a bit, crossing her legs and trying her best not to look awkward and out-of-place. Was this going to turn into one of those 'I know something's up and I'm bad at consolations but I'm going to try it anyway' talks?
"Look, Hawke, if there's anything I can do..." Isabela was looking at the ground.
Oh, boy.
"You don't have to say anything," Hawke immediately interrupted the thought, stiffening a bit. "I'm not going to put you through that. Come on, let's just get a room at the Hanged Man, I know how much you love it there! We'll get drinks and maybe Varric will want to-"
"Hawke."
"But after I can treat you to a fun game of Wicked Grace!"
"Hawke."
"What if after that we-"
"Cecily."
Hawke stopped at that. That's how she knew Isabela was serious. There was a reason she locked the door. Isabela let out a long sigh.
"Look, I know I'm not good at this. You know I'm not good at this. Hell, everyone does." She had torn her eyes away from the floor and was now looking at Hawke. Hawke's face felt hot with embarrassment and shame. "But I'm not letting this go. I might be the worst person in Kirkwall. Hell, in the Free Marches. But you mean a lot to me and I..." She averted her gaze. "I... won't let you sit in your room for days on end pouting like this. Not again. You can't just sit here and leave me alone! What do you think I do without you?" Hawke opened her mouth but Isabela lifted a finger. "Don't answer that."
It was silence for what felt like minutes, but in reality was only a few seconds. Nobody knew exactly what to say. These kinds of situations weren't what either of them excelled at.
"I'm, uh, sorry," Hawke finally said, if to just break the silence. Isabela looked at her again, turning her body to face her.
"Is it your mother again?"
Hawke flinched briefly, glancing at the wall and back at her own hands before shrugging and nodding.
When Isabela reached out to hold Hawke's hands in her own, Hawke felt a a flash of panic run through her. She debated pulling away but instead bit the inside of her cheek hard and looked up at Isabela, who was staring intensely at her. She suddenly felt very small.
"We're both shit at feelings, huh?" Isabela laughed dryly. Hawke could tell she was struggling to keep eye contact, but she did it anyway. "But I don't care about that. I couldn't give two shits about how badly you just want to run away and forget this conversation ever happened. But I see that look in your eyes, I always can. I can tell when it gets bad, and right now it's bad. You can't possibly expect me to leave this alone, can you? I know I'm a terrible friend, most of the time, but I'm not that bad."
Hawke swallowed hard and shrugged. "But it's been months since..." She trailed off.
"So?" Isabela swung her legs on top of the bed so she could sit cross-legged, completely facing Hawke and staring intensely at her. Hawke wanted to shrink into the shadows. She had never seen Isabela like this. She wasn't used to her being this serious, in all the years they'd known each other Hawke didn't think she'd ever seen this intensity in her eyes. "Grief doesn't have a time limit. It's not like it just goes away. It won't ever go away, probably."
"Oh, good," Hawke said dryly with a small, tension-breaking laugh as she looked away. Isabela tightened her hold on Hawke's hands enough to make Hawke look back up at her.
Isabela really had that effect on Hawke.
"And I'm going to be here when it gets bad. You know that, right? You don't have to lock yourself away like this. Stop caring about my feelings so much! Stop caring about my comfort! I don't care about my comfort right now. Start caring more about yours."
Hawke's heart skipped a beat as she stared into Isabela's intense brown eyes, getting lost in them as she listened. Isabela was never like this. Isabela didn't show her feelings like this. Hawke doesn't think she's ever seen Isabela care this much about anything other than sex. But this wasn't a lustful look, Hawke knew that look well. No, this was something different, and Hawke wasn't so sure she knew exactly what it was. Their entire relationship was comprised of reassurances that this was nothing more than a friends-with-benefits type situation, regardless of how Hawke felt deep down. The pain Hawke felt when Isabela brushed off their relationship to others and the way Hawke went along with it. The 'Oh, we aren't actually together' talks, or how Isabela seemed to easily get into bed with other people fully expecting Hawke to be fine with it. And Hawke thought she was fine with it, on a surface level. But she wasn't, and looking into Isabela's eyes right now, at this very moment, made the feelings hit her like a truck. She loved her. She loved her.
"I love you."
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
Isabela blinked a few times, as if her entire system was resetting. Hawke immediately pulled her hands away.
"Oh, Maker, I'm so sorry," Hawke blurted out, turning away. "Shit, shit, that was completely out of line. Why did I say that? I'm sorry." She swung her legs off the opposite side of the bed and stood up, unable to look at Isabela as her face was flushed completely red. She began walking towards the door. "I think you should go now. I can go to the Hanged Man tomorrow if you want, or if you don't want to see me again it's fine, I just thought it'd be rude to leave that whole situation unattended, anyway Varric probably wants to-"
She was cut off by Isabela's abrupt movement as she stood up straight and fast, looking at the floor for a brief second before looking up at Hawke. Hawke wished she could fall back into the fade and never think about this moment ever again. She was a mage, why couldn't mages just phase themselves out of existence? That ability would be very handy. She didn't want to look at Isabela, and she didn't for a long while, but eventually she did. Isabela's face was a mix of confusion, conflict, and something else that Hawke couldn't quite place.
Maker, this was the worst and most embarrassing moment of her entire life. More embarrassing than the time she accidentally tripped into Anders's counter and broke most of his lyrium potions in front of everyone and had to deal with Anders trying so hard to not rip both her and his own face off.
Before Hawke could think of other moments that could compare to this, Isabela was speed walking towards Hawke. Hawke had no time to respond before Isabela roughly grabbed her face and smashed their lips together into a passionate, desperate kiss. Hawke stood stunned for a few seconds before hesitantly wrapping her arms around Isabela's waist and returning the heated kiss.
They had kissed before. They had done much more than kiss before, but this kiss... it was different. This kiss wasn't lustful, it was passionate but not in the way it normally was. Hawke almost felt embarrassed just from this, and would have felt more so if Isabela hadn't been the one to initiate it. She didn't quite know how to deal with this, what to do with her hands, how to kiss back. She felt like a Chantry sister who had never really kissed in her life. A hot whirlwind of out-of-character nervousness pooled in her stomach as her brain argued with itself, trying to deny what it wanted and what it suspected was going on even though it was so clearly happening. Hawke shut her eyes tighter and pulled Isabela harder against her, letting out a small, desperate, panicked whine. She was lost.
That was when Isabela pulled away slightly, breathing heavily but obviously trying to hide that fact. She closed her eyes tightly, as if deep in thought, and Hawke just stood there, staring. Usually Hawke was smooth. Hawke could pipe in with a joke, flirt shamelessly with Isabela, tease her about getting a room in the Hanged Man later. But for some reason, this didn't feel like the time. It didn't feel like this was headed anywhere bedroom-relate, which was funny, because the bed was just over there...
"Yeah, okay, I know," Isabela finally spoke up. Maker, thank you. "I'm bad at feelings. But you're shit at feelings too, this isn't all me," she wrinkled her nose and let out a heavy, drawn out sigh. "Oh, Maker, you can't really expect me to say this, can you?"
"No, of course not," Hawke's voice sounded more breathy and uneven than she meant for it to. Her heart was beating fast, unable to really comprehend what was happening. She could swear that her hands were shaking as they were still wrapped around Isabela's torso. Isabela let out a loud, frustrated groan.
"Can't you just make me say it? Stop being so damn understanding!" She pulled away from Hawke and began pacing back and forth. "You aren't like this! You tease me, you act like everything is all fine and like nothing is secretly going on but it is and we both know that. In bed you always make me say things, all the damn time. Go back to being that Hawke, for just this one second. Stop letting me off easy!"
Hawke wasn't sure she could be more confused.
"I'm going to be honest here, I really don't know what you want from me," Hawke's arms fell limply at her sides as she watched her suddenly stop pacing. Isabela pressed the palms of her hands against her forehead and let out another groan - almost a growl. Hawke shivered involuntarily.
"Make me say it."
"Make you... say it?"
"Maker, yes!"
"Say what?"
"That I love you!"
The room was suddenly filled with a deafening silence as the two stared at each other. Panic flashed through Isabela's eyes and Hawke tried to remain expressionless, presumably failing. Was this the end of the world? Was another blight beginning? The Maker is one sick bastard.
"You...do?" Hawke didn't know where to put her hands. Should she put them on her hips? Maybe cross them? Hmm, I wonder if Bodahn cleaned the fireplace yet...
Isabela let out a long sigh as her hands dropped to her sides, her body slouching, and if Hawke didn't know any better she'd say that Isabela was just trying to stall for time to think of what to say next. Hawke couldn't help but flash a small smirk. Isabela glared.
"What are you smiling at?" She barked defensively. Hawke put her hands up in surrender.
"Nothing, nothing! It's just fun to see the great and mighty pirate queen Isabela be reduced to a loss of words the minute she's expected to show emotions."
Isabela's eyes narrowed fiercely at that before a look of pain flashed in them. They softened after that. Hawke suddenly felt a pang of guilt in her stomach and wondered if it would be too much to approach her, hold her hand. She resisted for now.
"I know, it's utterly pointless," Isabela rubbed her face with her hands roughly, as if to snap herself out of deep thought. "I don't know what's gotten over me. Or you, honestly! You started this mess." She peeked at Hawke through two fingers. Hawke smiled, but it wasn't teasing this time. It was genuine.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," Hawke began. Isabela was about to make a defensive remark, but Hawke quickly cut in before that could happen. "Or made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I didn't mean to say it, it's true, but I meant it." She took a few steps towards Isabela and reached out, gently taking hold of the hands that were previously covering her face. The normally hard-to-read Isabela was reduced to a panicked and confused mess. Hawke empathized, but she was ready to get this out of the way. If she didn't say this, nobody would.
"I do love you, Isabela. I have for years. Maker only knows how horrible we are at this so I didn't want to push it, but I think you're just afraid. I am as well, but you weren't going to step up, and someone had to because if they didn't I think I'd go mad." Hawke lifted one of Isabela's hands to her lips and kissed it softly - a touch that was barely there, but also so very there that Isabela could hardly stand it. "All of those times when you'd go off to bed someone else, as if it were nothing, it hurt. But I did it too, to ignore it, to remind myself what we were. That we were nothing special. But that's not what I want us to be. If you don't want to do this, then don't. Tell me right now and I will drop everything. This conversation never happened, you came to check up on me and that was it. For all everyone will know we're still casual sex friends who hate love. But if you do want to do this, then... I'd be honoured to call you my partner."
The silence was deafening. Each second of silence sent one portion of Hawke's newfound confidence out the window. A whirlwind of despair and embarrassment settled itself into her gut. This was a horrible idea. Love and Isabela? An oxymoron. One couldn't just say those two words together and actually mean it. This was foolish, a mistake, a cruel joke that the Maker and Andraste herself allowed to happen. Hawke silently cursed herself and dropped Isabela's hand, standing up straight and looking at the cold ground.
"I'm sorry," Hawke began. "This was all horribly timed. Please, go."
"No, you goose, don't you dare leave," Isabela's hand grabbed for Hawke's and Hawke looked at her in surprise. Isabela still looked absolutely flustered and confused, but less panicked than before.
"I..." Her eyes shifted downwards. "I think... I think I love you too. No, I don't think. I do! Oh, Maker preserve us all," she groaned as she looked up to make eye contact again. "I do. I'm sorry I'm so horrible at this, I've never... This is new to me. But I think it's what I want, too."
Hawke flashed a smile as Isabela held onto Hawke's hand as if her life depended on it. "You think it's what you want? That's very reassuring!"
"Hawke, it is what I want. Absolutely no doubt in my mind. Been wanting this for ages. Is that what you want to hear? What happened to you?! You were just as embarrassed as me about ten seconds ago. You are infuriating."
Hawke let out a laugh and pulled Isabela towards her, capturing her lips in a kiss that was more gentle than any they had ever shared before. It was mesmerizing, it was lovely and so completely different. Hawke could feel Isabela's unsure movements before she finally relaxed and melted into Hawke's embrace. The kiss lasted a few more seconds before Hawke pulled away and rested their foreheads together.
"I do love you, Isabela. Will you be mine?"
Isabela's eyes were raw and filled with emotion that Hawke had never seen before. Everything Isabela was feeling could be easily read in those golden eyes, something Hawke wasn't used to being able to read. A look of longing, as if this were something she had just been waiting for her entire life. Isabela smiled up at her.
"I love you, too. And I will."