Title: Precious as Rubies
Fandom: Dragon Age
Rating: G
Length: ~ 890 words
Content notes: none
Summary: Aveline wasn't very good at accepting gifts.




“What is that?” Aveline stared at the armband grasped in Isabela's outstretched hand as though it might explode.

“A gift. Surely you've heard of them?” Isabela's smile didn't quite erase the sting in the words, but then, Aveline doubted it was meant to.

“I don't wear jewelry.” Not on duty and not off duty either. If anyone had ever asked – not that they would - Aveline would have told them it simply wasn't practical. Jewelry was a magnet for unwanted attention; it attracted thieves and, if expensive enough, others seeking to take advantage of someone with obvious wealth. Not to mention that a guard captain was never truly off duty (or at least, Aveline wasn't) and jewelry was too easily damaged.

“But I chose it especially for you.”

Aveline hesitated. It did look as though it might be true: the armband was gold, but it lacked jewels that might be dislodged or damaged if she had to fight while wearing it. It was far more her style than that of anyone else she knew. She raised her hand toward Isabela's as if to take it, then took in the new jewelry Isabela was also wearing, rubies flashing in the lamplight, and forced it back down.

“Chosen from where?” Isabela, after all, wasn't particularly known for buying things. She “acquired” them and it was best not to ask too many questions. But if Aveline were going to actually wear a gift from her, she'd ask all the questions she wanted. She would not stoop to wearing stolen goods.

Isabela sighed and shook her head. “You're very bad at this, you know.”

Aveline crossed her arms and gave Isabela a stern look. Not that she expected it to help; the guards under her might quail at this expression, but if Isabela noticed it at all, it tended to encourage her rather than the intended effect.

This time was not much different. Rather than looking penitent or ashamed, Isabela laughed. “I bought it. Would I really give the great guard captain Aveline stolen goods to wear?”

Aveline was on the verge of pointing out that of course Isabela would when she waved the band again, gold gleaming temptingly. “Come on, has no one ever taught you how to accept a present? It'll look great on you.”

Aveline looked between the armband and Isabela's new ruby earrings and pendant once again before she answered. Her reasons for not wearing jewelry went far beyond mere practicality. She'd always thought jewels were for other women. Prettier women, like the noblewomen she'd known who'd been raised to make good marriages to secure inheritances rather than to be knights. Or women like Isabela, those she'd always scorned as sluts and whores.

But that was the thing about both Isabela and Hawke: they'd both made her realize that those beliefs were all nonsense. Mere comforting lies, to make the world seem simpler, easier to understand and classify. The truth was that no woman fit into those simple categories – not even Aveline herself. And in acknowledgment of that fact, she took the armband and slid it on.

It fit perfectly, a fact Isabela greeted with a satisfied grin. “And now, if I'm not mistaken – and I'm not - you're off duty. Let's go show it off.” Before Aveline could even protest, she linked arms with her and led her toward the door.

And so it was that Aveline found herself drinking in the Hanged Man with Isabela, gold band tight around a bicep hardened by hours spent swinging a sword. It felt strange, almost barbaric, and glaringly obvious. But then, she wasn't one for showing off finery – not like Isabela, now drinking wine as red as the rubies she wore, no doubt precisely to draw even more attention to them. If it were pointed out, she doubted Isabela would even deny it. “Shame” was not a word with which Isabela was particularly familiar.

But it only took a couple of drinks before the self-consciousness faded. Probably it shouldn't have taken even that long; with a companion like Isabela, who would even look at Aveline? It was the sort of thing that used to make her bitter, but tonight she didn't mind. No one had even asked her where the band had come from, though Varric had given the two of them a knowing nod when they'd come in.

If they had asked, she'd have blown them off. She might have even claimed it was a poor attempt at a bribe. Once, she'd probably have honestly believed that. Now, though, Aveline knew it was something harder to define. A token, but not of love. Not of friendship, either, or not only that. What she and Isabela were to each other these days didn't fit into neat categories any more than they themselves did. It wasn't something she'd ever thought to look for and she didn't expect it to last; permanency was not something anyone should expect of Isabela. But for all its temporary nature, it was nonetheless precious – more valuable than the gold that caught her eye every time she lifted her mug. And much to her surprise (for Aveline was as permanent as Isabela was flighty), she was satisfied with that.