#fenbela

Partly. She had been the one to angle them upstairs instead of down to "throw off" pursuers. Which hadn't been successful. And they were here in the first place to steal something at her request. Which had been successful.

But it wasn't her fault this was apparently the only building in the city without the banked-on escape tunnel. Fenris would grumble something about casing her target better if she admitted that, though, so Isabela kept her mouth shut and ran. Denied her intended route of egress, she stayed alert for windows to jump out, or a roof to scurry onto. "D'you think we're losing them?" she panted.

Fenris responded with a grunt she took as 'hardly'. Persistant bastards.

Footsteps sounded from above now, charging down, and Isabela's head jerked up. "Half a bloody moment, how'd they get over us, too?!"

"Perhaps they have a secret passage," Fenris deadpanned, missing the dirty look she sent him as he gaze swept for alternate routes. There were none--this hall was long, straight, and the only doors off before the end led to rooms.

Thoroughly fucked, she thought grimly. Maybe she should have tried to do this alone. Not that Fenris would've let her, but she could have made an effort. At least she could say 'I told you so' now. Maybe the end door led somewhere useful; a parapet or battlement where they could hop to an adjoining roof.

It did lead somewhere--a large balcony that overlooked a pristine lagoon, sheltered from the choppy waters of the sea by a narrow channel. None of the neighboring buildings were within two hundred feet, the walls went straight down and were plastered over in mud daub to give it a reddish tone. Isabela cursed the local architectural trends as her eyes roamed the scene for an exit.

Unfortunately, the only one presenting itself Fenris was going to hate.

"No," he said the second her gaze met his.

"At least let me ask!!" she huffed.

"I know your thinking," he retorted, green eyes darting to sound of pursuit closing in. "If that water is deep enough the jump doesn't kill us, it's deep enough to drown."

"I won't let you," Isabela said, tugging him wih her as she edged toward the end. "And either of those is more appealing than the length of a prison sentence for robbing a noble in this city!"

Fenris glowered but followed her lead, the two of them picking up speed as they approached the end of the balcony. She could do nothing more than hope they vanished from sight with their plunge before the pursuing guards came into view.

The fall was exhilarating; not far enough to be deadly, but enough to hurt if they did it wrong. Enough the water stung her skin as it closed over her head.

She instantly dug her fingers into Fenris' jerkin, hauling him with her as she swam away from the outcropping. They'd been able to take limited breaths with their plunge, of course, which meant surfacing sooner than she really liked. But Isabela was nothing if not adaptable. She popped up, caught a breath, and started toward a screen of bushes. Fenris followed, a bit awkardly. Neither of them spoke until they were ashore.

"I know a spot we can lay low," Isabela said, wringing water out of her tunic. The shadows made it chilly over here.

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "This feels rather well-planned for a spur of the moment theft," he drawled.

"I just know the area," she brushed him off. Her hand curled around the small pouch still, thankfully, attached to her belt. "Stay low as we move, sweet thing. And it's hardly a well-stocked bolthole or anything," she continued as they crept out along the channel rather than back toward the city, "just a cave where we can sit for a few hours until the hubbub dies down."

Gooseflesh prickled on her arms. The water had been colder than expected, and the overcast, breezy day wasn't helping. This place was no hothouse, but it was usually more temperate.

So it was her great relief memory served correctly and there was a blanket, only slightly ratty, still stowed in the small cave. She unfurled it, wrapping one end 'round her shoulders and waving the other at a visibly-chilly Fenris. "Plenty of room, sweetness," she winked.

He hesitated, eyeing the deep blue material dubiously, despite the shivers wracking his frame. "That looks... weathered."

"It is a bit scratchy," she conceded, grasping his concern. "If we had better, I'd offer, but as it is... better than catching your death, right? And thee's a delightfully warm me under here to distract you."

Fenris chuckled. "A persuasive offer." He sidled in next to her, gingerly tucking the blanket so it touched minimal skin. "I do find you quite distracting."

"As do all," Isabela said airily, though his tone and proximity made additional warmth curl in her belly, and leaned in to kiss him. "Thanks for being such a prince about this."

"What brought it on in the first place, if I may ask?"

"Suppose I owe you that much," she muttered, squirming to loosen the pouch without dropping the blanket. And it wasn't like they didn't have the time.

"At least," he said drily.

"Now, now, you're the one who insisted you were coming without asking details, Fenris." Isabela patted his cheek with her free hand as she fished out the ring that had kicked her into action. "I know this ring." The rust-blue-green agate didn't sparkle, the silver setting slightly tarnished. "I know who it belongs to, and it is not the woman we stole it from."

"Perhaps it was freely traded or gifted," Fenris pointed out.

Isabela shook her head. "It's a sentimental bauble, not a valuable thing as most measure it."

"Then why would someone steal it?" He shivered and pressed closer to her side.

"I haven't the foggiest," Isabela shook her head again. "I'm just glad I can return it where it should be."

"Sentimentality?" Fenris teased. "It appears Hawke did rub off on you."

"Bite your tongue!" she gasped in mock affront. "Or, better yet" --she kissed him again, deeper this time--"let me do it."

He scoffed at the come-on, which quickly turned to a moan as she persisted with the kiss, his arms circling her waist. "You--"

"Minx? Vixen? Sexy thing, you?" Isabela supplied between kisses, raking her fingers through his hair.

"All of the above," Fenris deadpanned, the blanket slipping from his shoulders as he initiated a kiss. He didn't seem to notice.

She stood and headed to the kitchen with silent steps on the wooden floors, tipping a water jug into a glass until it was half full before walking back to where Fenris laid, still whimpering. His face was all twisted, his brows furrowed, his mouth downturned as he panted out, hair sticking to his sweat-slick face.

She resisted the urge to get on her knees and wipe his hair off his forehead, tuck a strand behind his ear. To press a hand to his chest and tell him it would be okay. She knew that would not fix the damage, the wounds deep inside himself he seldom spoke about.

After what felt like eons, he woke, a ragged gasp escaping his mouth as he straightened up. He caught his breath before he turned to look at her in the dim moonlight slipping through the curtains.

"Isabela?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"I brought you some water," she said, offering it to him. "You wanna talk, big guy?"

He curled his lip in distaste. "No." He took the glass in his hands and took small, careful sips, like he could choke on it. His skin was clammy, his eyes watery with unshed tears. There was a pause after a gulp, and he looked back at her. "There is no use in talking about it. The nightmares won't leave if I tell you."

Isabela sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, his feet brushing against her hip with the covers between them.

"It'll make it easier, though. Maybe." She kept her hands on her lap. "I don't want to push you, Fenris, you know that."

He rose a brow. "You just want to hear about the sordid tales my mind pulls from?"

"No," she said. She could banter all she wanted about it, about oil and glistening and bodyguards and all she knew and didn't know about Tevinter slavery. But what she did know was that Fenris and her were more similar than one could think at first glance. Men's hands over their bodies, the stain never quite coming off no matter how raw they scrubbed themselves. "We can just go back to sleep, if you prefer."

He finished the glass of water and settled it on the nightstand. "Yes," he said.

Isabela got back into bed and listened to his soft breathing, the way he curled up on himself, always in fetal position as he turned to look at her. Green eyes shimmered in the darkness as he took her in and let out a sigh before closing his eyes.