Author's Note: Repost time! See my Author's page for the explanation, if you're curious.

Since I've decided that I will be tying this fiction into the 'Moments In Time' universe, and since MIT is much longer than this story, the chapter reposts will be more widely spaced, coming about every ten chapters of MIT.

Same drill as in MIT: author's notes at the end will deal with any edits made and my random musings on the writing process, and are primarily intended for returning readers, which means that there may be story spoilers for newcomers. New readers & those who don't give a damn about what I was thinking when I was writing a chapter can feel free to skip them.

Disclaimer time: Devon and anything else you don't recognize are mine. Everything else belongs to Bioware.

Looking back, she was never certain how it happened, or even exactly when.

Certainly, it began in the Hanged Man, all those years ago. She'd been looking for someone to watch her back when she confronted Hayder, and when Varric had strolled in with the three Fereldans in tow, it seemed as though her luck might be changing at last. Isabela didn't share the antipathy that most of Kirkwall displayed to the refugees from the south, but by and large, she had to admit they were a rather sorry lot: sheep waiting to be sheared.

The charm that Varric was oozing made it clear that there was something different about this bunch, however; their leader, in particular. She moved with the easy grace of a cat in response to the pirate's beckoning gesture, expending no more effort than absolutely necessary, but a wealth of energy coiled beneath the surface, ready to be unleashed at need.

Eyes the shifting blue-green of the sea gleamed with a lazy interest from beneath tousled blonde hair as Isabela explained the situation. "How much are you offering?"

"My undying gratitude and two sovereigns." A smirk to indicate that this was merely the opening gambit.

The woman chuckled. "Gratitude doesn't pay the bills. Add eight more sovereigns and you've got your backup."

Isabela feigned shock. "Ten? That's highway robbery! Four."

"Eight," the Ferelden countered calmly.

"I couldn't possibly manage more than five."

"Let's make it six, then. Half up front."

"Six it is," Isabela agreed, knowing that ten would have been the low end, if she'd sought out hired muscle in the usual places. "You're a girl after my own heart," she added, giving the newcomer a boldly appraising look as she passed over the three sovereigns. Slightly shorter than Isabella and compactly built, the Fereldan carried herself with a confidence just shy of cocky, and yes - the pirate confirmed as she turned to pass the coins to the dark-haired girl with her - she had quite the nice ass.

"Because I won't let myself get screwed?" the blonde inquired, looking amused...and returning Isabela's measuring stare just as boldly.

"Now, that would be a damn shame," Isabela quipped with a wink, watching the big girl with the shield roll her eyes in disgust and the dark-haired one look confused, then scandalized. The blonde just laughed again, a merry sound, accompanied by a dare-me grin. "Business first, however, and I like seeing a woman who knows her own worth."

"My da taught me to bargain," the other woman said with a shrug, her smile fading slightly. "Devon Hawke," she went on, offering her hand and inclining her head toward her companions. "My sister, Bethany, Aveline Vallen, and -"

"Oh, she knows me, Hawke," Varric cut her off, giving the pirate a lopsided grin, "don't you, Rivaini?"

"Owner of the most glorious chest hair in the Free Marches?" She pretended to swoon. "I dream of running my fingers through it every night. Or at least, I would if I slept at night, instead of -"

"Is this duel of yours taking place today?" the tall redhead cut her off pointedly.

"After sunset, Big Girl," Isabela assured her. "Just meet me at the gates to Hightown, and we'll go from there." That one stood like she had a stick up her ass; twisting it a bit ought to be fun.

"Devon, are you sure about this?" The younger girl, Bethany, glanced around nervously.

"It's all right, Beth," the blonde's voice grew noticeably gentler when she turned to reply to her sister, her eyes darkening with the promise of a storm when she caught a drunken patron ogling the girl's backside. Her hand dropped to one of the daggers sheathed at each hip, and the drunk promptly found something of interest in his half empty mug. "If Varric's willing to speak for her, I think we can trust her."

She returned her gaze to the pirate, the warning in her eyes as clear as the challenge.

Isabela chuckled. "Either you don't know Varric, or he doesn't know me. You don't trust anybody in the Hanged Man, sweet thing, not unless you know they've got a good reason not to betray you. I just happen to have the best reason of all: I need you watching my ass."

"Sounds like a nice enough job," Hawke countered, "but wouldn't it be more effective if I guarded it?"

The delivery was so utterly deadpan that it took Isabela a moment to catch it, then her lips curled in a predator's delighted smile. "Oh, we're going to get along nicely," she purred. "In fact, if you don't have anything planned until sunset -"

"We do," Aveline cut her off with a glare.

Hawke gave the pirate a shrug and an easy grin. "She's right. Another time," she tossed over her shoulder as she sauntered toward the door, even Varric trailing in her wake.

Interesting.

They showed up in Hightown on schedule, dealing with the ambush by Hayder's lackeys and the discovery that the spineless bastard had holed up in the Chantry with relatively good grace.

A bit of a surprise to discover that little Bethany was an apostate mage, and a damn good apostate mage, at that. She and Devon worked together almost seamlessly, the blonde leading her opponents right into fireballs or shattering the ones that were frozen solid with spinning back-kicks. Hawke fought like a cat, as well, all traces of laziness gone: quick and deadly with her daggers, moving with a fluid agility that made Isabela itch to shrug off the duel and drag the other woman back to her room at the Hanged Man to see if she was as nimble between the sheets.

Business first...damn it.

The big girl was a one-woman wall behind her shield, the strength of her sword arm suggesting that she should be able to knock a man into submission, should attempts at seduction fail. And Varric was as reliable as always with Bianca, sending bolts into the fray with deadly precision while humming that odd little tune under his breath.

"Don't worry, sweetness," she assured Bethany as she saw the mage watching her apprehensively as they stripped the corpses of anything worthwhile...which wasn't much. "I'm not on speaking terms with the Chantry or the templars."

"Imagine that," Aveline muttered from her post near the stairs.

"And I wouldn't turn you in if I were," the pirate continued, flashing a wicked grin at the big girl.

"Good to know," Devon remarked, her tone light but the warning back in her eyes. Like the sea, the dominant color seemed to change with the light; here in the shadows, they seemed more blue than green. "We get extra for the ambush, I assume?"

Damn, but she was a bold one! "You can keep anything that Hayder has on him," Isabela promised, "and I can guarantee you there'll be something worth keeping." Castillon's errand boy was fond of the better things in life.

"Fair enough," the blonde conceded, "as long as you make it up to us if there's not."

"I may do that anyway, sweet thing," the pirate replied suggestively, earning another of those delightful dare-me grins, sparks crackling between them as their eyes met and held.

Aveline cleared her throat. "If we're going to violate the sanctity of the Chantry, could we get to it before sunrise?"

"Hayder's the one who violated it, Av," Devon countered, breaking eye contact to wipe her daggers clean and return them to their sheaths. "We're just cleaning house."

And clean house they had. Hayder had no intention of a one-on-one fight - no great surprise there - but his attempt to bribe Hawke into changing employers was met with a scornful laugh and a slim throwing knife that spun, seemingly out of thin air, straight at his throat, scoring a thin line as he ducked to the side.

The fight was on, Hawke and the other three keeping Hayder's lackeys busy as he and Isabela weaved around each other, blades flashing. He was good; there was no denying that, but she was better, and it was only a matter of time before he overreached, giving her the opening to sweep her knife across his throat.

Even as he collapsed to the floor in a gout of blood, she felt the movement behind her and spun, knowing that she wasn't going to be able to get around fast enough -

Hayder's second stood on tiptoe, back arched, eyes bulging and mouth working in a silent rictus of agony that broke into a strangled wail as Hawke gave her daggers a savage twist and yanked them free from his kidneys, letting him fall, then bending to cut his throat with businesslike efficiency.

"Not squeamish, I see," the pirate quipped.

"Lucky for you," Devon shot back in the same vein, glancing around to be sure that none of her companions had been injured before moving to Hayder's corpse and stripping it clean of valuables as neatly as she slit throats.

"He called that one 'Bodice Ripper'," Isabela informed Hawke with a twinge of envy as she examined the gleaming dagger with approval. She should have made the blade the exception on the loot, damn it. On the other hand, she could just as easily have been the one lying on the floor with her kidneys skewered, so she supposed it had been well earned.

"Did he, now?" Hawke's eyes cut towards the pirate, a sly smile touching her lips. The dagger flashed in the moonlight as she twirled it briefly, then slipped it under her belt in a smooth motion.

"Showoff," Bethany accused her with a sniff.

"When have I not been, little sister?" Devon asked, the smile broadening to a grin as she tossed her Hayder's belt pouch. Neither Aveline nor Varric objected, so Isabela assumed they'd divvy up the takings later. "What was the relic he was talking about?"

The sudden change of subject didn't quite catch Isabela off guard, but she had to admit, the girl was good. She'd given no sign that she had even heard Hayder's comment at the time it was made. "Just a piece of crap that I was stupid enough to lose," she replied easily. It was the truth after all, wasn't it? "Hayder being dead buys me some time, but if I want Castillon off my back, I'm going to have to find it."

She cocked her head. "Maybe we could trade favors?" she suggested, her voice laden with double meaning. "I scratch your back, you scratch mine?"

Hawke pursed her lips thoughtfully, but her eyes danced with amusement...and something quite a bit more interesting. "That could be advantageous," she replied at last. "We should probably negotiate some terms, though."

"Oh, absolutely," Isabela agreed with a seductive smile. "If you'd like to come back to the Hanged Man with me, we could get right to it."

"Oh, for the love of the Maker!" Bethany sounded exasperated, but hardly surprised.

Hawke chuckled, placing an affectionate kiss on her sister's forehead. "Trust me, Beth. I know what I'm doing," she promised. Her eyes shifted to Varric, who wore his usual look of utter unflappability, in contrast to the scowl of profound disapproval on Aveline's face. "See my sister home safely, please," she requested of the dwarf, who nodded his assent. "I've got some business to see to."

Ignoring the big girl's snort of disbelief, she turned and sauntered toward Isabela, her fingers dropping to the hilt of Bodice Ripper as she added, in a voice that was for the pirate alone, "And a new blade that I should try out."

That was how it began. Nice and simple. But it didn't stay that way.

A.N. - There won't be too many changes to be made in this one, primarily because I was only seven chapters in when it got pulled. It was originally intended to be a stand-alone project, but as I got further in, I decided that it would take place in the 'Moments In Time' universe, and that I would be bringing the two storylines together at some point. Can't say when or who without giving away my plans for the end of MIT, but rest assured that familiar face(s) will appear in due time.

Devon Hawke was my deliberate attempt to write an anti-Talia: easygoing, fun-loving and much more ethically flexible. More chaotic-good, to use an old RP analogy, to Talia's lawful-good; Devon does have a moral code that she adheres to, but it doesn't always coincide with what society would consider to be good conduct, and she doesn't really give a damn. In contrast to Talia's berzerker tendencies, and in spite of her apparent freewheeling attitude, Devon keeps herself under tight control, both in combat and out. They do share one trait, however: both are fiercely devoted to the people they care about.

The story will primarily be told from Isabela's perspective, but there will be other POV's; never Devon's, however. I made a deliberate decision in this story to show Devon's personality and its evolution through the eyes of the people around her.