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“Surely, you must know what people will say.”
Josephine took a sip of her wine, skilled in not letting her face betray her. Even as much as she wanted to react to such a situation.
Cassandra, Josephine, and the Inquisitor all sat by the hearth in Josephine’s office, relaxing from the day with a glass of wine. Well, that’s what they said it was. A week ago, a rumor had spread that the Inquisitor was seen scolding Mother Giselle over some rumors about him and Dorian, and then confirming said rumors not a minute later with a ‘particularly passionate’ kiss, as Leliana described.
“In full view of everyone near the balconies. Even Solas watched,” Leliana stated in her report.
Josephine knew it wasn’t her place to comment, but she also knew that Cassandra would want to bring it up. The Orleasian nobles in the grand hall could be heard tittering and giggling about it from the main courtyard. Josephine was more there for moral support.
“Say what?” The Inquisitor asked.
Cassandra sighed. “You. And a Tevinter mage. It will not be taken well when this news gets outside of Skyhold.”
The Inquisitor sighed. He downed the rest of his wine in one go. “I… know you care but, that is the last thing on my mind. Frankly, we don’t know when Corepheyus will attack. It could be tomorrow. I see no point in denying myself or the man I love some happiness when I don’t know what horror the next day will hold. Blast what the nobles say. If they can only see political gain, that’s their problem.”
“I… cannot argue with that.” Cassandra sipped her wine. Josephine looked at the two, not saying a word.
In truth, Josephine thought the whole thing was cute. The looked-down-upon relationship between the Tevinter and the Inquisitor, both noble in their goals but torn apart by society. It was romantic, like one of the stories in one of Cassandra’s books.
Josephine would have found it cuter if she wasn’t in one herself.
She thought of the man in the barn. His sad eyes betrayed his affection for her. His quick glances saw into her from behind his cards. How many evenings had she dreamed of his rough hands on hers, the tickle of his moustache on her face, his breath on her-
No, none of that right now. She was in polite company.
“I promise, Cassandra, I won’t kiss Dorian in front of Val Royeaux.”
The Seeker chuckled at that one. “Fine. But the problem now is we have to deal with Dorian’s smug face while we play Wicked Grace.”
The Inquisitor let out a laugh and stood up to take his leave. Cassandra did the same, with little more than a nod. Josephine stood up to say goodbye, a habit from her time in court, but the Inquisitor was the one who spoke first.
“Sometimes, propriety isn’t the most important thing in this world.” The Inquisitor put his glass next to Cassandra’s, and gave Josephine a sad, knowing smile. The ambassador’s heart seemed to get caught in her throat. Surely, he couldn’t have known.
…Well, Blackwall wasn’t exactly subtle in his looks across the table.
Josephine walked to her room, letting out a sigh when she closed the door. Her mind was swimming from the Inquisitor’s words. It all seemed so… easy. But then she thought harder about it all, and it suddenly became more complicated. She always liked the Warden’s rugged looks and wise eyes since the moment he arrived in Haven. She did not see him often, but the glimpses were enough to catch her eye. He was always the gentleman around her, calling her by her title. She responded by much the same. His wise face, hardened from time, was… attractive.
Except he wasn’t what he told everyone. She was just as shocked as everyone else that he was not truly Warden Blackwall, but Thom Rainer. The news felt like a cut, like she had been betrayed. It was a silly thought. He deceived everyone, not just her, but something personal hurt when she received that news.
Josephine didn’t know how to react when the Inquisitor set Blackwall free. Relief, fear, happiness, uncertainty. He used his freedom to join the Inquisition, again, but this time as Rainer. Everyone still called him Blackwall, more as a title this time. A small part of her giggled at the thought. Laying in her bed, daydreaming of when this was all over, introducing everyone to all the adoring noble families. And here is our Blackwall, Thom Rainer. And the nobles would be so confused, but everyone in the Inquisition knew. They would laugh about the noble’s confusion for weeks as they drank and played Wicked Grace.
As time went on, she found that he was the man she first met: strong, caring, loyal, kind. He wasn’t the Warden, but he wasn’t a different man. He still treated Josie with the upmost respect, still drank and ate with them, still made toys for the children. If someone asked Josephine, he was actually more kind now, thankful to those that forgave him. Sometimes, as Josephine’s little secret, she would walk down to the barn pretending to take the long way to Cullen’s office, and stop by to see what toy he was making this time.
The ambassador found that the news of his true identity didn’t sway her feelings. She still found herself drawn to his smile. His glances burned at her core. His eyes betrayed him. He wouldn’t do well at court. She could see his sadness, his joy, his adoration. She felt like she could read his heart, and some part of her knew he could do the same for her.
La splendeur des coeurs perdus.
Josephine lay in her bed. Above her, most likely, were the Inquisitor and his Tevinter love. Holding each other in lover’s embrace. Spending stolen moments in each other’s presence.
Josephine suddenly stood up. She slipped into her delicate slippers and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. The skirt of her nightgown danced behind her as she quickly walked out of her room.
She didn’t let herself think. She just moved. If she thought about what she was about to do, she would talk herself out of it. The ambassador moved quietly, the only noise the soft padding of her leather soles and her quiet breath. She walked the stairs to the kitchen, taking the upmost care to not wake the cooks from her opening and closing the doors.
The cold almost threatened to turn her away, but she walked determined. She wasn’t used to the cold of Skyhold, but she could see the warm fire of the barn. Soon, hopefully, she’d see the warm eyes of the man she found herself to attracted to.
The barn was far warmer than the rest of the courtyard. A fire roared in the middle, letting the heat rise to where he slept. Still, the cold permeated her nightgown, leaving her hair standing on end.
Josephine took a breath before taking the first step up the wooden stairs. Her breath appeared in front of her, like smoke rising from the fireplace. The thrumming of her heart felt like it was on fire. It made the cold air of Skyhold somehow worse.
The stairs creaked under her. Josephine could barely hear it beyond the drumming of her heartbeat. But then something, something sweet and rough and deep, rang through the air. Josephine heard it through all the other noise.
“Hello? Who’s there?” Blackwall called out.
Josephine appeared at the top of the stairs, suddenly sheepish. She raised her hand in a shy wave. “Hello, I-”
“A-Ambassador!” Blackwall scrambled to get out of bed. He threw the furs he slept under aside and stood at his full height, hands behind his back. He didn’t salute her, but she could see his previous training as a solider shine through.
Josephine quickly walked over to where he stood. Taking in the sight before her. “I-I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He stood in just a tunic and some trousers, disheveled from his previous rest. Despite being loose on him, the fabric was thin enough that she could see his form underneath. The long sleeves followed the curves of his muscular arms. The loose, untied neckline showed his strong shoulders. Josephine gulped. She didn’t know if her blush was that bad, or it was just the cold making her cheeks feel hotter than normal.
“Is there an emergency, my lady? Is the Inquisitor gathering a party?”
“Oh! No, no. No emergency. Just…” She was the Ambassador to the Inquisition! She talked to nobles and royals every day. But why was she so nervous now? “We didn’t get to talk much during our last game of Wicked Grace. I just… wanted to talk.”
Joesphine saw the other man’s expression of surprise. His eyes flicked up and down, looking at her. She realized how different she looked. She never before left her room without her usual outfit. She was suddenly very aware that she was just in her nightgown and a wrap.
“Oh. Of… of course.” Blackwall motioned that she could sit on the edge of his bed, which was really just a few bales of hay with a few sheets over it. Josephine sat with as much grace as she could. She was surprised by how soft the makeshift bed was. Blackwall sat too, a respectful distance away. “What did you want to talk about?”
It was at this point that the Ambassador realized she came here with no plan, no idea of what to say. She rarely acted so rashly. She could say so many things. Pretend her reasons were just to catch up. Say this was a mistake and leave. Ask him about his life before becoming Warden Blackwall.
I see no point in denying myself or the man I love some happiness.
“I… I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Josephine said. She didn’t try and hide behind a faux expression of embarrassment behind the statement. She was done denying.
Blackwall’s cheeks and the tips of his ears went bright red. His eyes went wide. “I… I’m so sorry, Ambassador. I know it’s not my place…”
“No!” Josephine grasped his hand in hers. Her shawl fell to the makeshift bed they sat on, but she didn’t care. “I-I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” She looked up at the wide eyes of the warrior.
“Ambassador…”
“Please, call me Josephine.”
Blackwall sighed, a deep sadness in his eyes. His hand moved to gently hold one of hers, his large hands nearly encompassing hers. Josephine noticed his skin was rough. It gently scratched hers. Something deep in her wanted to kiss away the roughness, as if the gentle action would erase the pain of the years. “Josephine, I’ve seen the way you look at me too. I… know we both want what we can’t have.”
Josephine took in a breath. Maker keep her strong. She hoped the Inquisitor was right about this. “Why can’t we have it?”
“For every reason we have to be together, we have double the reasons why it wouldn’t work.” Blackwall spoke with confidence. Something told Josie that he had told it to himself many times over.
“Blackwall…”
“No,” he interrupted her. “If you’re going to insist on me calling you by your first name… you should at least call me by mine.”
Josephine wasn’t sure if he was being playful, of she really heard that hint of pain in his voice. “Thom. At the end of the day, we don’t know if we will see tomorrow.” The words echoed in her mind. “I don’t want to live asking what if. Isn’t it worth a try?”
Blackwall looked like he was struggling. Like he wanted to say yes. “You’re a noble. I’m a commoner.”
“I’m allowed to spend my time with whoever I wish,” she retorted.
“… We barely know each other.”
“We can learn more.”
“… What will Leliana say?”
Josephine smiled as his excuses became weaker and weaker. His expression softened to a sad smile. “If it’s only tonight, I will take tonight.”
Blackwall paused, not moving besides rubbing his thumb on the soft skin of the back Josephine’s back hand. “And what if we decide to go beyond tonight? The masked creatures in the great hall will talk.”
Josephine tried to hide her blush and smile by looking away. The absolute scandal… it would be quite fun. “Then maybe we should let them talk.”
“I didn’t know you had a mischievous side, Lady Ambassador,” Blackwall said with a cocky smile. He wrapped an arm around her, scooting his body closer to hers. She resisted the urge to just lean fully on his body.
“It will give them something to talk about besides the war. Nothing wrong with that.”
Blackwall sighed. “My Lady… Josephine…” He took a moment to exhale. He squeezed her a bit, and kissed the top of her head. Josephine felt a shock at the kiss, like his lips sent electricity down her spine and taking a little extra time at her heart and between her legs. “I want something between us. I really do. You are… you are the most wonderful person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. But… I don’t want you to be hurt. As much as we want to throw title out to the wind, people will say something.”
Josephine sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. But she wasn’t about to run away now. Not when his arm around her felt so… right. “Despite the looks and the talk and the rumors… do you think we are worth a try?”
There was a pause as Josephine waited for Blackwall’s response. The moment felt like an hour, but in her mind, she knew it was not even a second. “Of course. Josephine, of course. I will fight all of Thedas if it means seeing you smile.”
Josephine let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She broke out in a wide smile, scooting closer to the man she met in her dreams. She placed a delicate hand on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat through the thin tunic he wore. She let her head rest on his shoulder, and felt him place another kiss atop her head.
“And you are worth every rumor and glare, my lovely Thom.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve used that name. But if we are to be together, I want to love you as myself. I don’t want you to be with a dishonest man.”
“I know you will be honest and kind and sweet,” Josephine asserted, wrapping her other arm around his waist. “You already are.”
Blackwall let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Then maybe one day I’ll prove to myself I can be the man you deserve.”
Before Josephine could retort, a gust of the icy wind blew through the barn. The flicker of the fire below cast long shadows, the barn rustled and creaked. Josephine’s nightgown seemed to do little to block the cold, as it felt like ice was placed directly on her skin. The ambassador found herself shivering and pressing up closer to Blackwall for warmth.
“Nope. Absolutely not. We can’t have that.” Blackwall said abruptly. He let go of her and grabbed her forgotten shawl. “Here, my lady.” He wrapped the fabric around her shoulders, adjusting it so it covered as much as her body as it could. “Would you like to be under the furs?”
Josephine couldn’t contain her blush as he fretted over her. She couldn’t tell if the shawl was truly that warm, or the suggestion of sharing Blackwall’s bed caused the room to heat up. She gave him a shy nod, trying to suppress a wide smile. He made her feel like a princess in a fairy tale.
Blackwall pulled back the furs on his makeshift bed, and climbed in against the wall. Once he was settled, he beckoned Josephine to join him. She slipped off her delicate slippers and lay down next to him. Just the sudden contrast from the cold air of the mountains to the warm comfort of fur and hay made her sigh with relief. She was not built for the cold like some of the other residents of Skyhold were.
Her contented sigh seemed to put Blackwall at ease. He gave her a slight chuckle, and arranged them so she rest her head on his shoulder. One of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tight. He pulled the furs up to her neck, making sure she was wrapped up. “Is this alright, my lady?”
“Yes. But you really don’t have to call me by that. I am perfectly content with just my name.”
Blackwall gave her a squeeze. “Yes, but I want you to know that you are my lady. I want you to feel like nobility when you’re with me.”
Josephine smiled against his chest. “You make me feel like an Orleasian princess.”
“After spending the evening at the Winter Palace, I can assure you, you are far kinder and prettier than any Orleasian butterfly.”
Josephine giggled. “I thought you looked quite handsome in your uniform.”
The ambassador felt Blackwall’s hand tighten his grip on her, if just for a second. “Ah, well… thank you. As much as uniforms were a good idea, I would have loved to see you in one of those lovely Orleasian ball gowns. You would have been the belle of the ball.”
“Oh, stop, you,” Josephine’s tone was light, and she nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “I thought about asking you to a dance, but we were all so tired after that evening.”
“Ha!” Josephine felt Blackwall’s chest rise and fall with his laugh. “That would have set tongues wagging, surely. But maybe when it’s warmer. And you have a lovely dress on.”
“You just want to see me in a dress.”
“I’d rather see you out of a dress.”
Josephine gasped at the statement. Her cheeks heat up at just the thought. The way he said it, the way he didn’t hesitate! Just the suggestion, in that husky, low voice of his. It struck her core, and then a bit lower.
“I-I’m sorry, my lady. That was crude. Old habit from being a solider. That… that was out of place.” When Josephine looked up at him, his face held clear signs of remorse. Her upbringing screamed at her to leave, slap him, act indignant, but she would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him that way. She once watched him chopping wood for the main keep. He was shirtless and sweating, muscles flexing as he worked. She held the image in her mind for weeks after as she touched herself in the dark of her room.
“No, no. It’s alright. I just… It’s all so new.” Josephine scooted up so she was face to face with the man. She gently placed one of her hands on the side of his face, comforting him by rubbing her thumb on his cheek. “I’ve never even kissed a man,” she admitted.
“Not once?” Blackwall looked shocked.
“N-no, never.”
Blackwall let out a breath. “Any reason?”
“Not really. My parents were to pick out my betrothed, and I am to run the family affairs, and then I joined the Inquisition. I just became to busy, I never had time for a relationship.”
“No kitchen boys that got your heart racing?”
Josephine blushed, but didn’t hider her smile. “No.”
“Then, my lady, may I have the honor?”
Josephine looked into his grey eyes. His worry lines, his rosy cheeks, his strong features. She focused only on his face.
“Of course, Thom.”
His lips were gentle. His moustache and beard tickled her face. Despite the scratchiness of the hair, everything else felt soft. From the books she read, she thought kissing was all teeth and tongue, but not this. This was the gentle movement of his lips. This was the soft sigh he gave. This was how he, very carefully, pulled her closer to his body.
Blackwall broke the kiss, the slightest smile on his face. “I hope that wasn’t too bad for your first kiss.”
“It was wonderful.”