“Always a pleasure, Captain. I’d like to say I’ve come back with something shiny for the Lords, but I’ve had my hands full with trying to stop evil god monsters lately.”

Rook flashed her a typically flippant smile, as much a defence mechanism against the horrors of the world as a way of breathing for him. It always seemed to ramp up in the company of his fellow Lords.

Fenris leaned into Isabela's touch, enjoying the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. His hand found the curve of her hip and stayed there. "I could tell you what's going through it right now."

     “Isabela,” the greeting is a warm one as he comes to her there at the docks. “It’s been a while.”

He says that to everyone these days, he thinks. So much has gone on in the world, so much still happens.

As Said By Alistair Theirin [Accepting!]

"That, of course, depends entirely on there being a... self to do something with," Alistair tells the fine lady pirate sitting there across from him and his Grey Warden companion. "Which, you know, isn't really... certain, yet. Death and dismemberment around every corner."

Isabela has been teaching his compatriot how to duel. Alistair isn't exactly certain that it will help when they face a dragon, but he's been surprised before.

The salty and clean sea air of a dock outside of Denerim was far more compelling than the stink of the polluted waters surrounding the city. Alistair had never really gotten to enjoy the sea, having spent his entire childhood in the Hinterlands and locked in a chantry. Suffice to say now that he was king he was getting his fill whenever the need to board vessel arouse, and what better person to book passage with than an old friend?

Tearing his gaze away from where blue sea met blue sky, his smile is lopsided once it quirks upon his face, eagerly taking in her own visage. " It's the clothes, right? Never was one for leather and fur, but now that I have to wear a crown at formal events I just can't get enough of the material. "

When his gaze flickers to her and the few guardsman who would journey with him to the nearby island for appearances sake, Alistair manages to drop the kingly stature he was meant wear at all times. Isabela wasn't some fancy noble or judgmental fuck, dropping formalities was one thing he could enjoy when boarding her ship.