It was fair for there to be concerns over Isabela’s intentions on most occasions. She was known for her enthusiasm and her spirit, but she was also known for her mischievous streak and penchant for scandal. She was loud and abrasive, and she had the tendency to go out of her way to make people squirm. She liked having that impact on others, truthfully, but she usually was harmless with it. At best, she found someone beautiful and wanted to sleep with them, which was fun all around. At worst, she was using her natural gifts to manipulate someone who deserved it. Isabela’s moral compass wasn’t perhaps ideal, but she had one.
Aramis had asked her to be gentle with Athos because of some past pain, and Isabela was more than willing to oblige. At first, her intentions had been largely to greet him, be kind to him, and let that be that. She loved Aramis and Porthos, and knew she’d adore Athos as well, but she was going to be Good. However, she found him fascinating. Fuck if she didn’t have a weakness for the sad, the grumpy, and the duty-focused.
Still, she was being gentle, as asked. Her words, which were usually dripping in seduction and teasing, were stripped back and more neutral and kind. Genuine still, but without the bells and whistles. She’d invited him out because she wanted to show him a good time, and she’d been very genuine in her invitation. Her goal was to show him those opportunities in Atlantis that she’d enjoyed upon her arrival, and to see if any of them would be activities he’d also like. Isabela, ever the extrovert, understood from her many years with Fenris that she couldn’t expect people to like what she did on principle, but she was content to try various things. She’d tried to ensure a promise from him that he’d tell her if something wasn’t what he enjoyed, and she’d kept them moving.
It’d been a little while now since they’d started their evening, and she’d shown him some of her favorite spots -- a movie theatre where she’d charmed the ticket-taker into letting them just peek their heads in for a few moments so that he could see what it was like, the animal shelter where they’d been greeted by an army of happy puppies right before closing, and even a museum (something that might’ve surprised those who knew Isabela). They’d paused in their tour for beer from a little beachside cantina. “Now, it comes straight from that little tap there,” she said. “It’s witchcraft, clearly.”
"Clearly," Athos agreed, taking a swallow of the cold beer. "I'll have to give my regards to the witches." He offered a brief smile with his comment, which had been easier to accomplish and more plentiful ever since the puppies. He wasn't cold-hearted, after all. Truth be told, he was having a good time. He had originally suspected that Aramis and Porthos had set this up or encouraged her to approach him like some kind of plan to keep Athos occupied, but the more time he had spent around Isabela, the more he was confident that she was of her own mind and no one could put her up to anything she didn't want to do.
He had, however, overdressed for the adventure. Since he hadn't known what to expect, he'd shown up wearing his full leathers and accoutrements (though he'd opted to leave the swords in his room). This was fine at first, but after awhile it had gotten too warm with all of the walking around and dodging in and out of places. As such, his coat was draped over the back of his chair and he was down just his trousers, cavalier boots, and a billowy shirt that he'd loosened at the neck. The good news was that so far she hadn't as yet found something he didn't at least have some level of interest in. He thought he'd like to come back and learn more about the theater they'd visited briefly to see what the full experience was like. The museum had been a real treat, however, and she hadn't minded at all that he walked nearly the entire place with a fascinated expression.
"Well," he began, raising his beer in salute. "I have to admit that you were right. This has been more enjoyable than bathing with a book."
“I’m sure they will not mind taking the credit and your praise,” she responded, and raised her glass to his. When they’d met earlier in the evening, she’d admired his ensemble, and had even allowed herself one rather flirtatious compliment before she’d toned herself back down. As he’d grown too warm and stripped some of it way, she’d bit her tongue, but she certainly appreciated this look just as much. But, again, she was being good.
It’d been easy to allow him the opportunity to be fascinated by the museum, because it was one of her favorite spots as well. That it had a very hefty supply of nautical artifacts certainly helped in that, but she was (perhaps shockingly) a fan of those sorts of places anyway. They weren’t religious, but they were treated with the same respect. She appreciated a site built to honor man-made items and moments in history. “I very much like being right,” she responded, laughing. “There’s nothing wrong with a bath, especially with the hot water, but I’m glad you’re getting a chance to see what other options you may have for enjoying yourself.” She pushed her hair to one shoulder, enjoying the air on her skin. “Personally, I could sit out on this beach all the time, a drink in hand, and be perfectly content. But I do like a bit of action to break up the relaxation.” She looked at him. “Are you relaxed? You certainly look moreso than you did when we met up earlier.”
"I am," he allowed, setting his glass down on the table. "The last time I spent time on a beach in pleasure, I was still a child," he added, though he kept his eyes on hers instead of letting it drift off towards the sand and shore. "Relaxation as an adult usually meant places like this," Athos gestured to the space around them. "Only darker and far dirtier." The taverns he'd frequented in Paris were certainly not known for their cleanliness or hospitality, but at the same time it was the easiest place to get a drink and not be recognized or harassed. There was just something about picking a fight with a Musketeer that made some men feel bigger in front of their friends.
"Well, what've you in mind for our next stop?" he asked, smirking a bit.
“I can remember time in the ocean as a child as well. It made returning to it as a young adult much like coming back to the only parts of home that were worth remembering,” she said, smiling. At the gesture, her eyebrows arched. “I suspect you’d feel right at home at The Hanged Man, our preferred spot back home. In Kirkwall, that is. That is where Hawke and our company spent much of our time as we started our working relationship.”
“I’ve options for you,” she answered, matching his smirk. “Water or grass? The former means sailing, the latter is a weird little game people play with sticks.”
"Sounds like our worlds have a commonality in using grim names for taverns," mused Athos, picking up his beer to drain the glass before answering her follow-up question. This place having cold drinks was, he had to admit, one of the larger reasons that made it worth sticking around. If he returned home and remembered all this, it would be a depressing life.
He considered her words and, really, the choice was obvious. "Well, it sounds like you're an expert on the water and I've never been sailing." He quirked his eyebrows and continued, "and that sounds more entertaining that weird sticks and grass."
“You know, I’ve noticed that many worlds have that quirk. Taverns are either grim and dark or floral and romantic, with the rare name that falls between.” She finished off her glass as well, and pushed herself from her stool, dropping coins on the table top.
“I ought to sell it better, because the game really is fun, but you’ll find me hard-pressed to prefer much of anything other than sailing,” she said, grinning. “And if you’ve never been, that’s even better. I’ll happily be your first.” She grabbed her boots up, not bothering to replace them. “We can borrow a boat from there.”
Thankfully, they were already on the beach, so it did not take long to reach the dock. She spoke to her new friend, offering payment for the rental, and led Athos to their vessel. She stepped onto it first, then turned back to offer a hand and a smirk. “Dashing as you are, the first step can be a bit of a doozy if you aren’t prepared for it,” she said, offering a wink.
"You'll find I'm secure enough to accept help from an expert, regardless of gender," responded Athos, taking her hand and working with her to pull himself aboard. And he quickly found out that she wasn't kidding. Larger vessels would assuredly be less likely to move under your weight, but this smaller boat shifted slightly almost immediately. He pulled his coat closer to him in an effort to both balance and not drop it.
He also wasn't sure how much she was spending on each thing they did tonight, but promised himself when he'd made a bit of coin from his new job here in Atlantis, he'd at least attempt to recompense a bit in some way. "I trust you'll allow me to learn and assist, versus sit and enjoy the wind in my hair?"
“That’s a very good response, and a little surprising based on what I’ve heard of your time period,” she responded, grinning. Delighted. Gender roles, thankfully, were less a thing in Thedas. Here, though, she’d learned a little more about how worlds worked, and she wasn’t fond of all she’d heard. She dropped her boots and offered a second hand when the boat began to rock, steady on her own feet but well-aware that this would be a challenge. Once they were both aboard, the rocking started to settle.
“Of course!” she responded, nodding. “I like these smaller boats because they rely less on the motors and mechanicals that the larger ones do here in Atlantis. This one will operate largely with the wind and steering.” She lifted her eyebrows then, some playfulness shifting into her expression. “Welcome aboard the…” she glanced over the side of the vessel before making a face at the dumb name, “Imagination? That’s a shit name. Anyway. Welcome aboard! I’m your Captain this evening. You can start by untying us there, and we’ll get to sailing.”
"Thankfully, some of us are less narrow-minded," he answered, referring to what she'd heard of his time period. Truthfully, he owed a great deal of his understanding of women and their capabilities to Milady and Ninon - and it struck him as odd that even in memory he'd rather think of her as Milady de Winter because he still wasn't certain she'd ever given him her real name. What was it with him and dangerous women?
"Aye, Captain," he replied, moving to untie the rope. He had some skill, oddly from having to tie and untie ropes when dealing with the different issues around Paris. Apparently being a Musketeer was good for helping acquire a host of random skills. Once he'd untied the rope and pulled the loose end into the boat, he took a seat at the prow and looked back towards Isabela. She looked a lot different on a boat than she did on land. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she just seemed more striking, like she knew she was in her element. He could see that she had basically gone from a woman enjoying her free time to someone who was keenly alert and aware of anything around her, despite any aloof behavior. Again, he was observant.
"This suits you," he remarked, shifting in his seat a bit to make room for a place to set his coat. "Command away, Captain."
“I’m very grateful for that. I’ve clearly stumbled upon three of you who fall into that category, which is an even lovelier thing,” she said, the fondness she felt for his companions apparent in the way she spoke of them. From what she knew of him so far, the same could be said to include him as well. This evening alone was going well, she thought.
She watched him for a moment, but he clearly knew what he was doing so she didn’t feel like she needed to continue doing so, instead moving to grab her boots and place them in a better spot than where they’d fallen. She readied their boat to take sail, letting the wind sweep into the material over their heads and taking a position further back to begin steering the vessel away from the dock and into the open water.
“Thank you, love. This, being on water, is more home to me than I’ve ever had on land,” she said, smiling. “Here, let me show you how this works.”
It didn’t take long for them to sail enough away from the dock that they could only barely hear sounds from back onshore, and Isabela settled back into the boat to watch him follow her instructions in the steering. “I spent time as a smuggler, on a much larger ship than this. It was a way to make coin, and an easy one at that. I had a crew I trusted, and a ship large enough to make the trips worth our while,” she said, explaining more of her time on sea, something she done in bits and pieces in the last little while. “I fell out of favor, though. In return for realizing my cargo was slaves and releasing them, I was made to steal a relic for my boss. Because fate is a fickle thing, we were shipwrecked, all was lost, and I was left with even more debt to both my boss and the cult leader I’d stolen from. Started a war, accidentally, but Hawke stood up for me. Gave me another chance.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Sometimes, we find ourselves rich in friends, even when we do not fully deserve them.”
Athos listened to her story, keeping his hand firmly on the rudder as instructed. It was a fairly relaxing way to travel, once he thought about it. And as her story expanded, he was reminded of a time when Aramis, Porthos, and he had made efforts to stop a bit of slave trade as well. That, in turn, gave him a sense of empathizing with her plight - except in her instance it risked her entire way of life. There was a great deal of honor in that, and it sounded like her friend Hawke noticed that as well.
He nodded when she'd finished. "I once had a wife," he started, feeling perhaps since she had shared a personal story that he should as well. "We were happy, but she was found standing over my brother's corpse with the murder weapon and she was sentenced to be hanged." He looked off into the water for a moment before continuing. "I witnessed the hanging and left behind my nobility for good. The guilt clawed at my heart for years and I began to drink heavily. It tore at my dreams, plagued my memories." Just thinking about those years made him feel more melancholy.
"I later learned my brother had tried to rape her, so she fought him in self-defense. And the executioner saved her from dying after I'd lost the stomach to watch her die. She'd rightly gone on to hate me for my actions and it put her on a path to where she could never return." He'd put her path of seductions and assassinations lightly, of course, but he still didn't know what all she'd been through afterwards. "I think we both finally forgave each other, or more so she forgave me, but there were many a night where I could have drunk myself to oblivion or gotten myself killed in a duel if not for Aramis and Porthos, and later d'Artagnan."
Isabela hadn’t been searching for information from him, but she certainly was curious and listened intently as he spoke. Aramis had given her some baseline knowledge of this, but it was very different to know of a circumstance and to know the details from the source. She could see how, even now, his experiences impacted him.
It wasn’t her story, and she’d only just met Athos, but the many facets to it and the deep way it’d wounded the very strong man before her made her jaw set and her heart ache a little on his behalf. “Forgiveness is an incredible thing, especially from someone you did not expect it from. But I’m certainly very glad that you met them if they kept you from death or oblivion,” she began. “I cannot imagine the shifting feelings you’ve felt in these years -- the little I can is conflicted enough.”
She adjusted, stretching her legs before her and crossing her ankles. “I suspect you mean as much to them, you know,” she added, smiling a bit. “They’ve been so happy since your arrival. They usually are, of course, but it’s different. They seem complete.”
"All for one, one for all," he remarked, smiling. It was true, none of them really felt complete without the others. "How about your people? Are you all relatively independent or more of a co-dependent type? He was happy enough to shift the discussion away from his past experiences, but it didn't seem to bother him to tell her about it, especially since she'd opened up about her own. She didn't seem to be the type that would just randomly tell people about her life.
Remembering the steps she had taken to let out the sails, he worked in slight reverse to furl them so that they could just float for a bit versus letting the wind take them anywhere. He wasn't sure why, when he could've just started angling the rudder to return them to port. He just felt a little relaxed out here and it was easier to talk and hold a conversation when he wasn't also focused on steering a boat.
“So I’ve heard. I love that,” she responded, smiling back at him. It was a lovely motto for a group of friends. She watched him as he mimicked her actions, in reverse, to let the sail drift about with the wind, her smile turning proud at the sight. After a pleased nod, because he’d done it correctly, she gave thought to his question.
“In Kirkwall, we were largely co-dependent, I’d say. Hawke has led our company for the most part, and there was a lot to do at the time. When the Qunari came seeking their relic -- the one I stole -- we found ourselves in a bit of a war. Hawke refused to let them take me as a prisoner, and fought their leader on my behalf. Afterwards, there was still more to do in Kirkwall, but we ultimately split up a bit from there to take on different missions. Fenris came to sail with me for a good long while when Hawke scampered off to join the Inquisition, and then we ended up here.” She shrugged a bit. “I suspect our way of being is a mix of the two, all told.”
Athos leaned back a little, stretching a bit as he did so. "I respect a leader that is willing to put themselves at risk for their people," he noted, with a slight nod. Captain Treville had done the same for them on several occasions, though later in life it was more of a proverbial approach with him having to stand before court politics for them. Of course, he did the same for those in his charge, but each of them stood up for each other so he couldn't take too much credit.
"But a mix is best, I think. Too much in either way is no good for anyone involved. How did you run into Hawke, if you don't mind me asking? Is he just a collector of lost souls?" Athos was genuinely interested in how they'd all come together, when they all seemed to have such vastly different lives.
“I do too,” she agreed. “I’d never had that before. My mother was… well, she wasn’t a very good person. She was a con artist, and we’d travel place to place with her telling false fortunes until we were run out of town. When she felt the urge to clean up her life, she joined the Qunari. I refused to do the same, so she sold me to marriage. My husband was not a very good person either, but lived in Antiva, where the assassin group called the Crows lived. I met an assassin there who helped me escape my husband. From there, I’d only worked alongside other pirate captains, and they were not particularly the sort to step in on behalf of others and put themselves at risk.”
At the question, she laughed. “That’s a good way to describe him,” she said. “He stumbled upon me in The Hanged Man as a group of thugs attempted to threaten payment out of me for a job they didn’t do. He helped me put them in their place, and then helped me with a mission of my own. I figured I could help him do the same, on a temporary basis, and then ended up unable to resist sticking around him.”
"I imagine the rest of your allies would have similar stories?" he asked, leaning forward a bit. This Hawke sounded like a good person, helping people in need and developing lasting friendships with them. That was something that Athos believed the Musketeers were meant to embody, but he honestly thought that perhaps d'Artagnan was the only one who truly did. How else could he explain how quickly and easily he had integrated with the three of them and manage to get involved so deeply into their everyday lives? No other Musketeer had managed that at all, much less so quickly.
"Your early life sounds like quite the struggle." He quirked his face for a moment to show that he knew that was an understatement. "But if it helped mold you into the person I've come to know, I suppose I could be somewhat grateful."
“They would, yes. We like to pick at him, because he’s truly an absurd person, but we wouldn’t be here without him. Certainly not the people we are, and very likely not even alive in many cases. He’s the best of us. Don’t tell him I said that, though,” she said, and it was very clear that she believed it wholly, even with Hawke’s faults. There was no one so open, so genuine, or so kind.
“Others experienced far worse,” she said, but she appreciated the sentiment anyway. When he continued, her smile returned, her eyebrows lifting. “I’m going to take that as more of your brand of subtle flirting,” she said. “Is this truly the first time you’ve been out on the water?”
Athos spread his hands in surrender at her comment about the flirting, but he clasped them together again when she asked about his time on the water. "It's possible I may have a few forgotten memories from my childhood, but as far as I recall, yes. I've been on an occasional large frigate for the king, but most of that was standing around as guards instead of being useful. And it certainly wasn't for pleasure."
He moved to dip his hand in the water, to feel the coolness. "How long until you need to return this boat?"
“These are almost my favorite sorts of vessels to sail on,” she said, running her fingertips over the wood frame to her side. “Small, quiet. You can feel the water in these, more distinctly than on a larger ship. I love my girl, of course, but she isn’t here, and these make for a nice substitute.” She pointed up, then. “And the stars are so lovely here in Atlantis. I’m not sure what any of them are called, because they’ll surely be different than those in Thedas, but I like them.”
She watched him dip his hand into the water, smiling more to herself at the sight of him so seemingly relaxed in the moonlight. “Oh, whenever. I usually leave it open-ended, because I’ve a tendency to stay out for a rather long time. Are you ready to return?”
"Hm," he responded, enunciating the sound. "No. I just don't wish to eat up more of your coin than I have any right to." He ran his wet hand through his hair, enjoying the coolness on his scalp while also drying his hand. She was right, this smaller boat was a great deal more relaxing than standing at attention on a frigate.
Athos glanced over at Isabela and tilted his head. "Your girl?" he asked. "You'd mentioned being shipwrecked, then later having Fenris sail with you for a while. Did you acquire a second ship, then?" If anything, he was a good listener and remembered the things she had said.
“Oh, don’t worry. Most of my coin is won through card games, and I’m notorious for cheating at those,” she said, laughing again and offering a wink. “I appreciate you worrying about that, though. It’s very considerate.”
At the question, she nodded, inwardly pleased he’d remembered that detail. “Yes! After leaving Kirkwall, I was able to secure a new ship and became an admiral with a pirate fleet. Fenris came to sail about with me on that new ship. She required a hell of a lot more crew than my original.”
Athos' expression turned to one not of surprise for the news, but surprise that she'd leave all of that behind for Atlantis. "What keeps you here, then, if I may ask?" She seemed very ambitious, after all, and having a fleet and title was very impressive. If Hawke preceded her, that might explain it. Or her other friends, which he hadn't been properly introduced to yet - he just knew some existed. This Fenris, for example.
“My friends are here,” she clarified. “Almost all of them, in fact.” Then she considered it a moment more. “You know, I’ve actually not thought a lot about that, until now. I suppose I’ve liked the people I’ve met, too. I arrived when we were off in Breckentale, and I had this life of connections with those I’d never met previously. Like Aramis and Porthos, in fact. Leaving them now would almost feel like leaving an old friend, and that isn’t an idea I’ve really considered all that much.” She shrugged. “Aside from that, I feel there’s more good I can do here than there at the moment.”
She looked at him curiously, then. “Do you intend to stay?”
Aramis and Porthos had explained the Breckentale thing to him, though he had a hard time fully comprehending it. It was likely one of those things you had to experience to fully understand. Otherwise it sounded like living in some kind of dream where you're someone else or living a different life. He couldn't imagine having two sets of memories. One was too much, sometimes.
"There's definitely more good I can do here than back home," he agreed, inwardly respecting her all the more for coming to the decision to give up, at least for now, everything she'd worked hard for in order to be there for her friends and some overarching goal of saving creativity (as vague as that seemed). "So yes, I suspect I'll stay. As long as this place will have me, at least."
It was a lot easier to consider the Breck experience if she could ignore all of the weird details and not think about it all too much. Fortunately, she was good at that sort of thing. “I’m very glad to hear that. I’ve enjoyed having you here so far,” she said, smiling.
“Now, most importantly, what have you enjoyed most this evening? Surely you’ve not just been humoring me,” she said, folding her arms. “Remember, you said you’d be truthful.”
"Honestly," he said, smiling at her posture. "The conversation. Everything else has been fun, but also just a backdrop to having a stimulating conversation with you. I suspect many people have looked at you and thought you to be shallow or perhaps nothing more than a pretty face?" he asked, looking to her for any sign of confirmation on that suspicion.
"You have a lot of depth, warmth, and intelligence that I couldn't have possibly expected. Honestly, I thought perhaps this was going to be an evening of you trying to get into my pants while I tried to find a way to excuse myself and thanking you for a fun evening." Athos shrugged slightly and crossed his own arms. "You wanted truth," he noted, automatically excusing himself for the blunt thought.
Isabela was actually and very genuinely surprised by his answer, which was as blunt as she’d expected but also both incredibly complementary and very detailed. She’d been expecting something simple, but pleasant -- some admission that she’d judged correctly in her planning for the evening. What he actually said brought a rather rare flush to her cheeks. She was quiet a moment, and then a soft laugh escaped her. “Maker’s tits, that was a hell of an answer,” she said, clearly pleased.
“I usually play into the shallow expectation,” she agreed, because he was right in that interpretation. “I’ve only recently been more apt to share more about myself, as deep conversations aren’t usually my preference. And you’re definitely fair in your thought that I might just try to get in your pants. I enjoy sex, and I find people endlessly beautiful, so that’s usually the way I prefer to connect with others. But my goal was just fun tonight. And, honestly, I’m not sure what it is about you, but this,” she gestured, indicating their evening, “has been easy for me. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”
"And I you," was Athos' response. He was glad she appreciated his response, as he'd have to admit he didn't really put much thought to it and had just said the first thing that came to mind. "Fair or not, though, I shouldn't have made that kind of assumption. I suspect Aramis already told you that I'm not typically someone who just jumps into bed with people." He smirked again and closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the quiet around them. Paris was never quiet. Even when they were traveling between cities and villages, the countryside was never quiet either. He could see, easily, why she enjoyed this. He imagined she got attention even when she didn't want it, so it made some kind of sense that she'd prefer an element where she could control who was around and who wasn't, for the most part.
"Thank you, genuinely. I hope we can do this again."
“He did,” she agreed, amused again. “And I didn’t expect myself to do more than gently flirt with you while existing in the same space near our mutual friends, as a result. I’d say this is much better than that option, though.” She watched him, perhaps intruding a little on him as he sat, eyes closed, and enjoyed the moment. She couldn’t help but watch him, truthfully. It was a beautiful thing, seeing someone else enjoy the same peace that was so captivating for her for so much of her life. While sharing her story had been something in itself, those moments all had passed. They’d shaped her, but she often assumed she was headstrong enough to have become herself even without experiencing them. But having him understand this, this part of her that was so important, was the more meaningful part of the evening.