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bitchesofostwick · 5 years

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The Magician for whoever you’re feelin

thanks dude! i know you like aurelia and fenris, so i’ll make this one a pre-rivalmance kirkwall-era aurelia’s-being-a-bitch fic :) for @dadrunkwriting

the magician: “I guess today’s my lucky day.”

“He keeps staring at you.”

Aurelia only smirks at Isabela’s words, doesn’t look across the room—doesn’t look up from her cards at all, for that matter. She knows. They’re halfway through their fourth game of wicked grace, she knows he’s watching, she can feel it, she can taste it in her mouth almost as much as she tastes the ale from hours earlier when she’d first strode into the Hanged Man for the night, the metallic flavor of her lips from taking a hit to the mouth the week before, the mouthful of something fiery and Antivan Isabela had poured her minutes earlier.

The only difference is that she has not, in fact, ever tasted any part of him.

“Are you going to say hello?”

Aurelia snorts, shuffling the deck and dealing again. “When have I ever said a polite ‘hello’ to Fenris?” she asks, and Isabela rolls her eyes.

“Hawke, it’s pretty obvious he’s interested. Even with all the petty arguments you two seem to come up with every day.”

She knows that already, too. Interested is one thing, action is another. They danced around each other constantly, snapping and biting and bickering and hard glares that were just too long for comfort, wrists grabbed just too tightly, nudges and shoulders that were just too rough. Never more.

But just enough that she knows.

“And anyway, if you don’t jump on that soon, someone else will.”

Now she glances up, not at Isabela but at the table on the far end of the barroom where Varric and Fenris and Anders sit together dealing diamondback and jeering and joking and drinking.

“Who will?” she mutters to Isabela. “You?”

She grins. “Maybe. If you’re not fast enough.”

Isabela’s remarks, as they often do, earn her a kick under the table. She only laughs again and pours herself another drink. “Well you can’t just prowl around each other like dogs in heat all the time, you’ll embarrass yourself. As much fun as it is to watch.”

“We’re not acting like ‘dogs in heat,’” Aurelia snaps. He’s looking at her again, she can feel it, and Isabela’s still laughing and the taste of liquor in her mouth isn’t so sweet anymore. “Anyway, I don’t know what he wants. He hasn’t made any moves. It doesn’t matter, anyway, I’m having plenty of fun playing whatever his game is.” She takes another sip of her drink. “And I intend to win it.”

Isabela fans out her cards before her, looking through them intently. “Can’t be much fun with all the glares and none of the—” She mimes a few vulgar thrusts, and Aurelia slaps her cards out of her hard.

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?”

“I do,” Isabella giggles, picking her cards up from the table.

“Anyway,” Aurelia continues, looking up to see another tavern patron approaching their table. “Fenris isn’t the only one who’s been eyeing me all night.”

Isabela gives her a wink when the young man—a mercenary they’d seen hanging around Lowtown—stopped beside them.

“Hawke, is it?” he asks with a sly smile, and Aurelia nods. “Hope you’re having a good game here.” She nearly has to kick Isabela again to keep her from laughing. “Let me get you another drink,” he offers.

Aurelia bats her eyes. flashes a smile first at him, and then again toward Fenris, still looking at her, still yet to leave his table.

“Well, what do you know?” she asks, getting up from her seat and shooting Isabela a secret smile. “I guess today’s my lucky day.”

#gothkimmyschmidt #answered #dwc #aurelia #isabela #aurelia x fenris #aurelia fic

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