something nautical themed with hawke and isabela? boat tour or dockside date
It was an ordinary night in Kirkwall for Isabela and Ruby Hawke. Well, maybe not too ordinary as no one has attempted to mug or murder them yet. After a few hours of drinking and playing Wicked Grace, the two women left The Hanged Man, talking loudly and giggling. Now, they were sitting on the roof of a dockside warehouse, sharing a bottle of some local swill that could hardly be called rum. It was a small miracle they managed to climb up top without suffering any broken bones considering their inebriation.
Passing the bottle to Hawke, Isabela heaved a theatrical sigh.
“I miss being out at sea. The wind in my hair, the salty water splashing on my face…”
Ruby didn’t seem too thrilled at the prospect, however.
“We clearly have different sailing experiences. Yours seemingly involve more fresh air and less throw up.”
“That’s because you were holed up in the cargo hold, sweet thing,” Isabela took the bottle back and took a swig. “I’ll take you out on a cruise once I get my ship. It will be the best thing you’ll ever experience. And not just because I’ll let you share the captain’s quarters,” Isabela said with a wink.
Ruby smirked, eyeing the pirate with renewed interest.
“Now that’s a really compelling argument.” Hawke seemed deep in thought as she reached for the bottle. When she finally spoke, it was with a conspirational smile, her speech slurring just a little bit. “What if I bought you a ship?”
Isabela shot Hawke a disbelieving look. “What kind of pirate would I be if I just accepted a ship as a gift?”
“An honest one?” Hawke replied with little conviction.
The pirate scoffed and shoved the other woman’s shoulder playfully.
“I can buy it and let you steal it from me?” suggested Hawke, unwilling to let her, clearly brilliant, plan go.
“Darling, you can’t steal a ship just like that. No honorable pirate would do that. You have to kill the captain first, and I rather like your pretty face.”
“Oh, do you now?” Hawke turned her face to Isabela, inching just a little closer.
“Mhm. And I do still have some uses for you,” Isabela’s smugness radiated from her almost as much as the smell of alcohol.
“I’m intrigued. Tell me more of those uses.”
Isabela closed the distance between them, her lips softly grazing the shell of Ruby’s ear as she whispered:
“I’d rather show you.”
The, now forgotten, bottle of rum rolled off the roof as the two women found a better, although no less intoxicating, way to spend their time.