Title: Diamonds and Pearls
Fandom: Dragon Age
Rating: T
Length: 1,326 words
Content notes: pirates and a brief battle
Author notes: This is sad, I'm sorry
Summary: This is an ending of something unsustainable.

"This meddlesome, troublesome, imperfect pirate took what was left of her crushed and silent heart and turned it into this fullness, this overwhelming infatuation that her chest can barely contain. Even now, even as she knows this can't last, that she can't live this way, she wants to scream her love to the sea, to the stars."

Aveline is standing at the window, looking out at the sea that surrounds them. She can feel the ache building, the lack of breath, the budding fear. It's not the open sea, or the distance she's let Isabela take her from her duty to Kirkwall. She wanted this vacation, the freedom, this time that she and Isabela wouldn't have ever had otherwise.

Behind her, she hears Isabela counting and the scribble of quill on parchment as her first mate takes down the items and totals from their most recent bounty.

This, she hadn't agreed to.

In the middle of the night she'd been woken up by the sound of battle, screams and splashes and the clashing of swords. It had felt like a nightmare, a reminder of that final battle against the Knight Commander Meredith. She pictured demons and Templars and took up her sword and Wesley's shield from her side of the bed. Without bothering to armor herself, she rushed out onto the deck to find their ship anchored to another, planks to allow for crossing, and men swinging from lines to drop down on Isabela's sailors. She'd dashed in, finding Isabela in the fray and taking up to cover her flank.

When it was done, Isabela's crew was victorious, and her men crossed to the other ship to take what she'd declared their reward. Aveline, bruised and scraped but largely uninjured, tiredly went back to the cabin, refusing to take part in reaping the spoils.

Aveline hadn't asked Isabela to give up her pirate ways, it had seemed unfair, but in the month they'd been at sea they'd largely enjoyed the voyage and the various ports where they'd enjoyed several days in remote and exotic and exciting locales Aveline had never dared dreamed to visit before. Those days have been like something out of one of Varric's books. Wild and romantic and strangely peaceful, just her and Isabela away from everything and everyone.

Now, with the dead bodies of both crews thrown into the sea and the other ship sailing away fast with what remains of their ship and their crew, Aveline's thoughts can't help but turn to Kirkwall. As a guard and then as Guard Captain, she's fought hard against banditry to make her city safe. And this feels...

She knew who Isabela was and she turned a blind eye in Kirkwall to the woman's activities. She did good too, and Aveline held on to that knowledge letting it bleed into her love for this pirate. This, the counting of coins and the pile of diamond, pearls, maps and weapons and Maker knows what else they stole away with, it's nothing she agreed to.

There's a bubble in her chest, daring to rise into her throat and it's hard to breathe. The breeze from the small port window does little to ease the constricting sadness taking her over. She bites her lip, arms wrapped around her chest, trying to block out the sound.

When Isabela's first mate throws open the chest at the end of the bed, opening boxes and arranging space for Isabela's portion of the spoils, Aveline heads for the door.

"I'll be on deck," she says, not giving Isabela time for a reply.

Let her count her coins and divvy up what goes to the crew, Aveline thinks, taking the stairs up to the poop deck, trying to fill her lungs with as much sea air and put as much space between her and the captain's quarters as possible.

Moments pass in the darkness, fatigue taking over the weary ache in her head and her heart. Tears freeze to her cheeks in the chill air before she can lift her hands to wipe them away.

"Copper for your thoughts, big girl?" Isabela's voice is soft as she approaches.

Aveline fights the urge to pull away as bronze ringed arms wrap around her.

"Just thinking."

"In the dark and cold, alone?" Isabela slides to the left, shadowed features of her half-smile and golden eyes coming into view.

Aveline is tempted to turn her face, knowing her eyes must be red and hoping Isabela won't be able to tell in the dark. Calloused fingers brace her chin and Isabela's keen gaze holds her, smile fading into concern and in the long silence that follows, a kind of understanding.

"You want to go back."

"I was always supposed to go back."

"This is different."

The pressure in her chest squeezes tight and she can't speak. She loves this woman so much it hurts. This meddlesome, troublesome, imperfect pirate took what was left of her crushed and silent heart and turned it into this fullness, this overwhelming infatuation that her chest can barely contain. Even now, even as she knows this can't last, that she can't live this way, she wants to scream her love to the sea, to the stars.

Isabela lifts up on her toes and kisses her, and she tastes like honey and wine. Aveline lets herself be overwhelmed by the kiss, crushed by it's intensity. Isabela's arms wrap under her own, pressing them together. She's warm and soft but strong and there's a hunger there between them, unfed despite the depth of their kiss.

"I was naive, I think, hoping I could convince you life at sea was better than your stuffy armor and your incessant need for order and civility." Isabela says in the quiet that follows.

"Were you?"

Isabela chuckles. "Perhaps not. A girl can dream though."

"And how would that dream go?"

Isabela leans back against the railing, propping a leg up behind her, at ease with an expert balance. "You and me, queens of the sea, striking fear into the hearts of any men who's sails dare darken our bow. And we'd make loud, unbridled love on exotic beaches for as long as our hearts desire."

"It's a good dream," Aveline admits. "Especially that last part."

"But..."

"Tonight," Aveline says, "that's not me."

"I know."

Aveline looks to dark waves beyond the ship, her eyes searching instinctively for signs for another ship, for land, for trouble. "Was it you?"

"It wasn't. Not tonight... but I think it might as well have been." She sighs. "Right?"

Aveline sighs too, trying to let out the tightness struggling for release in her chest. "Maybe."

"What's that mean then?"

"I go home, and you..." Aveline's cheeks are hot and she watches as Isabela turns her face away. They know the answer, but Aveline doesn't want to speak it. She doesn't want to finish this, to call it the end. Not when they're still so far from land, not when there's still time, not when she still loves this woman and she doesn't want to give that up.

"I'll order the new heading."

"Thank you."

"And tonight?" Isabela asks, an echo of Aveline's earlier question. "What's left of it anyway?" Isabela looks up again with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Her voice goes low and she reaches a hand for one of Aveline's. "Can you be tempted?"

Aveline is weak. She can be tempted. She is tempted by golden skin and an enticing smile, by the memories of everything that smile brings to mind. By this woman, always. It'll always be there, this love, this temptation.

She wants to say, 'How could I not be?'

But they're here, where temptation isn't enough. Not to keep her here, not to keep them together. She can't help but return the smile, even as her heart aches with what this means. With what the end will feel like. They'll postpone it, a little. The captain's quarters might not be a bright beach with blues skies and clear water, but it'll do.

"It's nearly morning," Aveline says.

"Morning then. Tangled sheets, you and me_" She pushes off the railing, and slides her hands up Aveline's arms. Her voice dips low, breath warm as she puts her lips against Aveline's ear. "Let me have you a little longer, my love."

"You do."