Chapter Text
Sebastian tugged slightly on the bottom of his tunic, frowning slightly in the mirror.
Starkhaven formal wear was so much simpler; a kilt and doublet and light dancing shoes rather than too many layers of hose and trousers and hideous boots. He'd make a right mess of a proper fling or sword dance with such heavy heels.
But he wasn't in Starkhaven. And not likely to be if he didn't keep playing Kirkwall politics long enough to get some allies.
Not for the first time, he wished Hawke could be induced to pay attention to the power games in Kirkwall. Being an acquaintance of the Champion would get him some nice political leverage... if the Champion ever bothered to be a presence at the Keep.
He grinned in the mirror, struck with the thought of some of Hawke's other compatriots at the Keep. Varric and Aveline were used to it, of course, if only on business, but Merrill would probably be delighted by the dancing, and Fenris would scowl over the punch.
I'll not consider Anders and his attempts to proselytize over h'ors d'oeuvres.
Isabela, now... his smile softened, one hand reaching out to touch the frame of the mirror before he closed the wardrobe. She never spoke much of her life before she'd escaped out to sea, but he could imagine she had been a breath-taking hostess. Clever words and warm laughter...
Not sure her previous life appreciated her enough for that laughter though. We've all washed up in unexpected ways against Kirkwall's chains, now haven't we?
He permitted himself one last sigh before he straightened his shoulders and headed out the door. Duty calls.
***
She crashed the party.
He wasn't quite sure why that surprised him as much as it did, but he'd never expected to see Isabela gracefully stealing a drink and a snack off of a politician's table, her swaying stride carving a path through the crowd, her rich laugh rising above the sound of murmuring voices.
She was still dressed in white, silk up to her neck and down to her toes, clinging to every curve. And then she turned to speak to someone, and he almost broke his glass between his finger at the long expanse of skin visible all the way from the nape of her neck, dark hair piled above her head, down to the slight curve above her arse, only an x-shape of crossed ties holding her dress in place.
"Didn't even see me come in, did you?"
Sebastian blinked at the familiar voice by his elbow, turning to see Fenris, not scowling at all, his face eased by the hint of a small smile curving up one side of his mouth.
"I'm afraid I didn't. She makes quite the entrance. I must admit I never expected?" Sebastian gestured slightly around at the party surrounding them.
Fenris almost shrugged, the slightest shift of wine in his glass moving more than he did. "She said she owed you one. And if I helped, she'd owe me one."
"Owe you one what?"
Fenris just raised one dark eyebrow in answer. He leaned forward, the slightest clink of crystal as he tapped Sebastian's glass with his own. "Part of her appeal, isn't it? The surprise of it all?"
***
She never let him speak to her. Darting close for just an instant, the warmth of her skin, a quick kiss in the shadows, her thigh gliding up between his legs in the most distracting way possible. Always slipping away again with a wink and a smile. Flirting with everyone.
Making sure he noticed when she danced with Fenris, a wink over the elf's shoulder, a smile when they went to refill their drinks.
He tried to ignore her, get back to his normal socializing, but she was like an itch he couldn't scratch, a butterfly constantly fluttering in the corner of his eye, and half-way through the night he realized he'd just spent half a mark talking with the Comte de Launcet and couldn't remember a single word of the conversation.
He excused himself as politely as possible and escaped to one of the row of small balconies off the Great Hall, leaning back against the railing and staring up at stars made dim by torchlight, breathing in the cool night air. Pretended she hadn't teased him until he'd been half hard most of the night.
Though he was unexpectedly thankful for Kirkwall layers now, as they kept his predicament hidden. If a touch uncomfortable.
Sebastian was rather sure she was setting him up for her long awaited revenge, but the fact that he had no idea of her end game was making the skin twitch between his shoulder blades.
At this point he was just hoping that whatever her grand finale was, it wasn't too public.
***
The evening was finally slowing down, people slowly trickling away for the night. Isabela had continued her teasing dance, never quite there long enough to confront, and he was tired and hot and aching. His collar was too tight, not to mention my pants, but the end was in sight.
So of course that was when she struck.
She slithered by, a gentle tug on his arm until he followed her into a quiet hallway, like a moth and a lantern moving through the woods, and didn't he just know how poorly that usually ended for the moth.
She pushed him up against the wall, warm full breasts pressed to his chest, mouth leaning in for a kiss. And what a kiss, full and deep, lips and tongue and heat, filling his mouth with the feel and the taste of her, banishing all thoughts beyondIsabela.
Her hands cupped his arse to pull him tight against her hips, and it was more than he could do to resist, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close, bare skin beneath his fingers as he cupped the back of her neck, slid his other hand to the small of her back. She pulled back slightly, sucking gently on his bottom lip, and then she was gone, a smooth stride back to the far side of the hallway, and he was staring at her, hands cold and empty, trying to remember how to breathe.
She smiled as he blinked at her, and if he hadn't been hard from the kiss that smile would have done it, slow and dark and pleased. "I think you've learned your lesson, lover."
She stepped in close again to drop a kiss on his cheek, sliding back before he could react with more than another blink. "I shall be heading home with my escort now, and, at least for tonight, you are not invited." She blew him a kiss and turned, a quick swirl of white as she spun on her toes before disappearing back to the Great Hall.
Sebastian was inordinately grateful for the empty expanse of stone walls and floors when he heard something suspiciously close to a whimper come out of his mouth.
It wasn't until he'd managed to salvage his self-control, give his farewells, and escape out into the night air that he realized what she'd offered. That she'd spent the night not just tormenting him with her own flirtations, but with Fenris.
His best friend.
His undeniably attractive best friend, whose friends-with-benefits sort of relationship with Isabela was very similar to the one Sebastian himself enjoyed.
Whose expression had been particularly inscrutable most of the night.
But he'd never lost that slight smile, and his eyes had seemed darker than usual every time he met Sebastian's gaze.
At least for tonight.
Which left the invitation open for tomorrow.
If he showed up at dawn, perhaps with some fruit or pastry and tea as a goodwill offering?, they'd probably both still be naked.
Sebastian whistled softly as he made his way back to his quarters for what remained of the night. If he'd read her wrong, and was assuming a plot when there was just a tease? Death by naked Fenris and Isabela?
Completely worth it.