#josephine x inqusitor

[baphometsss]

genuinely curious

reblog for bigger sample size / explain why in tags

[herald-divine-hell]

Josephine: Would you like to explain yourself?

Leliana: Hm? What ever do you mean?

Josephine, blushing: What do I mean? Well, for starters, the fact that I found you and the Inquisitor engaging in...you know what I am talking about Leliana.

Leliana: I was merely giving the Inquisitor a little moral boost. They have felt so low recently. 

Josephine: Why were you doing it on the throne, then?

Leliana, shrugging: A certain respect to their authority must be established with all our interactions, Josie. You should have seen their face when they had saw you enter the Great Hall, however. *giggles* I never knew their face could turn so red.

Cullen: *chokes*

[veridium]

The Lady Inquisitor has since returned from her most recent expedition in the east. Finally having some time to herself after a tiring day playing diplomat, she has retired to her chambers for the evening. Little does she know she will have to endure one final audience that tests her ability to be brave, not in the face of demons and darkspawn, but dangers of a more emotional nature.

The mountain winds billowed against the stone walls of the Skyhold fortress on a night beaming with lucid potentiality. From her balcony, she could hear humming and stirring from the grounds: people’s conversations climaxing into jubilant yelling and teasing. They sounded so far away, as if a mountain separated the two irrevocably tied worlds.

Theia was dressed antithetically to her usual wear. The woman who couldn’t be found in anything but armor, metal and hide, muscle underneath reinforced garments…little did anyone know that when sleep drew near, Theia slept in a tunic dress as feminine as any Orlesian woman would select. Though it was simple: lilac in shade, one of her favorite colors, and almost shapeless save for the sash tied multiple rounds around her narrow waist. No sleeves, but twisted over her shoulders and joined together in the back.

This was a side she did not let just anyone see, for fear that she her youth would show and with it, her inexperience. The perils of leadership weighed on her nimble shoulders; every day she reminded herself of the seniority even her own council represented in her life. She had spent so much of her life either a recluse or a runaway, and neither circumstance credited her with heroine capabilities.

Thoughts swayed in her mind like aching branches on an old woodland oak. Luckily, she thought, no one would disturb her for the next several hours out of respect for her rest.

Theia sighed lightly and reached up over her head, untangling her hair from the select few pins keeping it up off her shoulders. One set of fingers combed through and shook it all free of its shape, and the thick waves of platinum hair fell around her angular face.

Maybe, a side of her pretended she was a Princess or a Comtesse in a beautiful castle she ruled with kindness and sweetness. No violence, murder, or duplicity, just peace. But no one could say for sure.

She returned inside her room and approached her desk, eyeing the piles of paper and her overused wax seal now dried over from the evening of dispatching couriers. The tips of her fingers rested on the flat, wooden surface, her index finger tapping pensively. These could technically wait until tomorrow morning, she thought. As if the Maker sought to curb her procrastination habit, she heard the heavy door to her chamber open.

Curious, Theia turned and eyed the top of the stairs. Whoever it was sought her late in the evening. Perhaps Dorian, slightly tipsy again, and wanting a “third party” opinion on his most recent debate topic; or maybe one of Leliana’s people, with a new scintillating message. Either way, they would meet the Inquisitor in a rare show of style and conduct, and that made her nervously grab at the shawl on her desk chair and wrap it around herself, covering her upper body from her hips upwards.

No. It was the Lady Ambassador, she first recognized with her face and hair. Josephine’s piercing eyes eagerly spotted the Inquisitor, showing a sense of benign purpose. Though, she waited to announce herself until she was at the top of the stairs. When she did, her voice wasn’t as focused and deliberate in tone as it typically was.

Theia couldn’t even notice that, she was too busy being internally gobsmacked at what the Lady was wearing. An opaque, black, long gown, presumably for sleeping in. The quintessential puffy sleeves were cut to a short length, no longer than midway on her upper arm. The front was a sleek, more contoured. The v-neck was modest, only exposing her collar bones, but what Theia couldn’t see was that the lack of plunge was made up for in the back. Good thing she didn’t get the full visage at first, probably.

Theia was looking in all the wrong places for a platonic visit from a Council member, and she snapped out of it quick enough, she thought, not to give her nerves away.

“My Lady Ambassador, um,” she anxiously snugged the shawl tightly around her, “what may I do for you?” she asked.

Josephine eyed her, intrigued at where her look had initially gone before making eye contact with her, but she was there for a reason. Reason first.

“Your worship, I came to ask a favor of you, and I apologize for it being so late in the evening,” she said. Theia couldn’t know for sure, but it almost sounded as if there was also nervousness in Lady Montilyet’s voice as well. It felt like it could become a game of “blink first,” but she didn’t underestimate Josephine’s ability to have the upper hand. Especially since Theia gave in so quickly to her pull.

“Oh, of course. Don’t worry, I wasn’t much for sleeping tonight, I—“ Theia blushed quickly at the awkwardness of her response that sounded like a half-assed innuendo she in no way intended. “Um,” she closed her eyes and took a breath. “I meant, that, I have a lot to think about, and I wasn’t ready to let go of today, so, please feel free to voice your concerns.” Theia stepped backward until she had the desk between them.

Josephine nodded politely, trying to find the right words, and for once in her life, stalling. “I wished to inquire if, well, if the messengers had successfully sent you my letters while you were deployed out in east,” she asked. There were, indeed, nerves behind her words.

Theia gasped softly, having remembered the terrible time she had with her “fellow women” when Sera had found the note stuffed in Theia’s belt, and declared it before the entire camp. Residual embarrassment lined her cheeks, compelling her to look downward.

“Oh, of course, I…yes. Yes they did.”

“I see. I was hoping that perhaps they had been lost, since…you declined to respond.”

“I don’t know what to say, since I know it would pompous to say I was too busy to do so,” Theia answered honestly. Oh great, so now she must think I actively sought to ignore her.

Josephine’s posture sunk a bit, confirming the effect Theia had feared her words would have on her.

“My Lady, when you said you insisted we exchange letters and personal communication during your excursions, I did not get the impression that it would be so one-sided,” Josephine’s tact came into play, undoubtedly an act of self-preservation efforts on her part.

Theia looked up immediately, and shook her head. “No, I did not mean that!” an urgency in her voice. Josephine stopped herself and watched her, surprised at the enunciation of her emotions.

“Lady Montilyet, I…” Theia stepped forward, arms falling to her sides without thinking. The shawl slid downward off of her sloping shoulders, exposing her night dress. The motion caught Josephine’s eyes, like Theia’s were before. The shoe was now on the other foot, so-to-speak.

Theia stopped herself from saying something foolish, again. Frustrated, she rubbed her face with her hands. “Forgive me, I am more tired than I thought,” she said through her palms.

Josephine had no trouble waiting. In fact, she wished to side-track for a moment.

“Inquisitor, I had no idea you carried such clothes with you. Were you intending for something else this evening? I could retire,” she said, even though next to nothing would get her back through that door. Theia looked up, and suddenly realized that her casual demeanor had betrayed her. She grasped at the shawl and pulled it back around her at once, before making eye contact.

“No, not at all. This was something old and buried underneath my things. I was wearing it because I had no other option,” she covered her ass as well as could be expected, which, was not that well. In her head she could hear Cassandra’s warning to use her mouth to talk herself out of discomfort, but it proved harder in the moment to pull off.

Josephine couldn’t help but grin. She knew from being raised with an artistic soul such as her sister what was authentic, and what was shyness. That, and her years being an elite diplomat on the national stage, but who was counting that?

“Well, for something forgotten, it sure fits and looks exquisite. If you ever wish to find a reason to wear it beyond off-time, I would encourage it,” she said confidently, her arms going to her hips. Her figure became all the more tantalizing to Theia when she let her boldness into her mannerisms.

But, at the concept of wearing more dresses and frilly things regularly, her head shook vehemently. “No, no. I think it best if it remain our little secret, actually,” her voice shaking with modesty.

“Fair enough. Anyway, I will cease writing to you so as to unburden you with more correspondences. I should have figured the capacity of which you are already expected to communicate,” she was resolute, and whereas Josephine did curate some hope in the situation, her cerebral nature was tying up loose ends quicker than the wind.

Theia went back into damage control mode. Use your words, use your words, she told herself.

“Josephine, I want you to write to me. It’s just, I get so...overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed? With what in particular, Your Worship?”

With all the thoughts and words I could say to you but feel too insecure to try, she thought to herself.

“I, er, you know…?”

Josephine eyed her. No, she really didn’t.

“Just…the…everything. The traveling, the requisition orders, trying to save the world and also be there for the townspeople and villagers. Fielding the tensions between allies when they bicker or have different ideas on how to solve a problem. It all gets to me, secretly, and sometimes I just need my evenings to decompress,” bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Josephine’s mouth opened, as if she were to respond with a monologue of her own, but she just nodded and hummed an affirmative sound. “I see.”

Theia could feel her ass being singed by all the white hot lies she was pulling out of it. How could Josephine even give her the time of day when all she had to give is smoke and mirrors to protect herself? Somewhere inside her mind, she suspected the Ambassador also could detect that she was full of it, and it made her that much more disheartened.

An awkward pause filled the room, and both ladies looked away, trying to find something to salvage in this non-starter of a conversation.

“But, my Lady, I would be regretful if you stopped. I deeply enjoy your letters, even if I neglect to respond, they are most entertaining and fruitful. Plus, it’s good to know the goings-on here, and not jst through a need-to-know basis. Please, if you ever find yourself needing to vent or write your thoughts down, if you find the spare energies to send them my way, I promise you they will not go unread or unappreciated,” Theia was trying her hardest to pull a hail mary when the match had already been called. She wanted to approach her, take her by the hand, hell, even get down on her knees and plead for a second chance. Like a Knight or Warrior after the heart of a well-born lady. Unfortunately, there was no room in this bloody dress for a handkerchief to offer as a token of devotion. Armor, 1, dress, 0.

Josephine thought to herself for a moment, a hand rubbing the other arm as she did so. Finally, it was chin up, direct eye contact, and an answer.

“I will, but they will lessen in frequency, as you might expect. Finding the free time to do such things is scarcely in my life as of late. You are not the only one who must manage time while also preserving  a sense of inner sanctity,” Josephine approached the desk, her eyes surveying the piles of letters and paperwork that had befallen it.

“I suspect you wished to delay all this until morning. Have care, for I need these two piles dispatched as soon as possible,” she knew by handwriting, parchment color, and emblem, how to identify a paper from 20 paces. The Inquisitor’s desk was no match.

Theia managed to make a sorry grin appear on her own face, and she rubbed her shoulders against the chilly air. “As you wish, My Lady.”

Josephine watched her, before humming another affirmative sound in her throat.

“Tsk, tsk. Well, I must return to my personal chambers. If you need anything of me, well, I suppose it only fair that you have permission to approach me as I have you, tonight.” Josephine pivoted on her hip, veering towards the stairs and walking in such a way where Theia felt her heart would stop.

Take me with you, a voice inside her head hungered. It made her want to slap herself out of it.

“Theia,” Josephine said out of the blue, stopping in her tracks for one final time. The sound of her first name made the Inquisitor flinch. “You look beautiful in that dress. Perhaps you are right to not wear it out in the open. Too many would be besotted beyond productivity.” And with that, the Lady Ambassador kept going.

Theia watched the back of her neck intently. Everything about her was driving her crazy.

“Good evening, My Lady. Sleep…well…” she hesitated, but at least she got it out.

Josephine was gone as wondrously as she had arrived. When the sound of the door shut echoed up to her, Theia’s ribs released the mountains of pressure she had bottled between them.

“Stupid, daft, pompous, ugh, Maker…” she cursed under her breath, slapping down the shawl on her chair. The gust of wind it propelled made several of the papers on her desk fly up and out, scattering like her hopes and dreams for that conversation to go the complete opposite of how it ended up.

Watching the papers fall, Theia angled her head back, looking up at the ceiling with torment.

When she finally got the will to move, Theia walked over to her bed. Crouching down, she sat on the floor, legs folded under her. Quietly, she reached under her bed, on the side she normally slept, and pulled out a wooden box. Small, but not useless.

She opened the lid with her thumb. First she was greeted with the smells that Sera complained about for days after she had snatched the letter. Flowers and spices, potent but welcomed into her lungs. Her fingers strummed through the half dozen or so letters. Some were more melancholic, some joyful, others a mixture of several emotions. Either way, Theia coveted them as if they were deeds to lands and wealth beyond measure.

Holding the stack in her two hands, Theia exhaled hopelessly. “One day, My Lady, I will be woman enough to tell you the truth,” she said out loud. Her index and middle finger traced along the line of Josephine’s name, elegantly written without bleeding or stains from dripped ink. The preciseness both scared and thrilled her down to her very core.

[inkprintedfox]

Dragon age for the fandom meme?

Thank you for the ask!

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

• Favorite character: Dorian, very hard to choose just one. (Zevran, Anders, and Fenris right behind him)

• Least Favorite character: Oghren

• 5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Zevwarden, Fenris x Hawke, Fenders, Handers, Dorian x Inqusitor

• Character I find most attractive: Cassandra I think. I find a lot of them attractive but if it's just one then her.

• Character I would marry: Josephine, she's really sweet and is like one of the only LIs to have a real job? That isn't constantly life threatening and stressful?

• Character I would be best friends with: Fenris, i think we'd get along rather well

• a random thought: I want the Awakening companions back. I loved all of them. (Minus Oghren, he's had his run)

• An unpopular opinion: Solas friendship with the Inqusitor is better than the romance and you can't change my mind. Also don't find him attractive, but I do understand the voice kink thing. His English VA is very nice. 👌

• My Canon OTP: Max & Dorian I'm never gonna be over how kind and supportive they are of each other

• My Non-canon OTP: Fenris & Anders maybe? I like the pairing but maybe not OTP

• Most Badass Character: Cassandra

• Most Epic Villain: Solas, I love the whole twist that in the end it was him.

• Pairing I am not a fan of: Solas x Inqusitor (Solvallens have such lovely art though)

• Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Ugh, Anders halfway through DA2. Also he's the only companion in all the games that can never have even an ok ending? I like the tragic ending of DA2 but in DAI when you talk to Varric everyone but Anders is like, out living their lives. It's almost like he dies even if you spare him and that makes me sad.

• Favorite Friendship: Varric & Hawke and Varric & Inqusitor Varric is just ultimate BFF

• Character I most identify with: Anders, I am also very angry, bitter, and sarcastic and have been largely ignored until I blow up at people.

• Character I wish I could be: None, I'm happy being myself. Plus as much as I love them all, they're all disasters in their own ways. 😅

[thevikingwoman]

TMI Saturday: What's your favorite ship that you don't write (Solavellan and non-Solavellan if you please ^_~)?

well, for not-writing Solavellan - I have given a few of my favorite Solas loving Lavellans a whirl (Sene Lavellan - @galadrieljones, Ashanna Lavellan - @destinyapostasy and Pangara Lavellan - @tel-abelas-mofo) but of course I don’t really write them. I also love @ellstersmash ‘s Athi Lavellan, @buttsonthebeach‘ Ellana, @redinkofshame ‘s Elle and @littleblue-eyedbird‘s Anise... and more, listen I love all my friends OCs... 

For non-Solavellan ships - I LOVE Spike/Buffy does that count? I also love SG:A Sheppard/McKay. 

For DA:I I do love Cullen with anyone really, I love Solas / non-Lavellans, I also like reading some small Josephine stories, especially f!Inquisitor.

oh. and @superfluouskeys writes some really neat Cassandra x f!Inqusitor. 

but I can’t pick a favorite? 

(ok maybe, secretly Dorian/Solas? ) 

Ask me anything

[0therainbowmind0]

My Inquisitors

#DragonAgeInquisitor #DragonAge #CharacterBio

I would like to list down my Inquisitors that I am planning to write for my Fanfic. It would include the headcanon in that ‘world’, and side pairing too.

Male Inquisitor Justin Trevelyan x Cassandra Pentaghast

Justin is a 28 years old turning to 29 (soon in June) Rogue. The fourth children in the house. He has 2 older brothers, 1 older sister, and 1 younger sister.

He is also known as June Treyan, his pen name.

He is gentle for most of the time, but he can be quite a childish boy sometimes.

He is dating Cassandra.

He is so going to charm Cassandra and every way and simply involve the sexy activity with her as much as possible. Yes, Cassandra is so charming mature woman for him. And HE LOVES HER SO MUCH.

Some side Pairing in this ‘world/story’:

   Dorian Pavus x Timothy Trevelyan

   Cullen Rutherford x Annabeth Trevelyan

   The Iron Bull x Daria Lavellan

   Blackwall x Josephine Montilyet

There will be some story created individually for these side pairing too.

Dorian Pavus x Male Inquisitor Julian Lavellan

Julian is a young 20, 21-year-old youth. He is an orphan, raised by Grandmother Palma. He is a mage. He has a secret, about his body, which causes him lack of confident and self-conscious with himself being too close to others for most of the time. As he is a boy but he has female organ too. Palma told him he was a boy, and he is one...right? But... And Palma told him to be careful with other people, don’t expose himself too freely, at least not with some random people. Be careful of people take advantage. But also be confident with himself... Everything all so contradicts. But surely, he does not have the habit of showing off his body or simply showing off.

Yet, everything seems just not right anymore, with the explosion, anchor, inquisition, and... A man named Dorian Pavus, a Tevinter, a...man he felt to be the sexiest man in Thedas. A...guy that he secretly in love with and...

What? Dorian likes him? Really? Dating? Kissing? But, wait, no, can’t go further. Yes, if they never do that thing, the activity that starting from s, or two words, m and l; then he will be safe and will not be dislike...right?

Errrm.....

Some side Pairing in this ‘world/story’:

  Cullen Rutherford x Cassandra Pentaghast

These pairing may be mentioned throughout the story.

The Iron Bull x Female Inquisitor Aliana Trevelyan

Aliana is the youngest girl in House Trevelyan, a small build, loli, a little childish and bossy, yet people can fall for her so easily. She can be deadly if she wants, don’t mess with her, or her bodyguard will crash you down.

She likes Iron Bull, the like started from curious. She met Qunari before, but no one is like the Bull. He is very interesting, and she just can’t help but bossy him around her (especially he likes to call her ‘boss’), and playing cute, be a spoiled kid. She likes the sit or stands on Bull’s shoulder, as that was the best view she can get, better than standing on the ground on her own. Soon, she finds herself relying on him more and more, she likes his protectiveness, and it is nice to get carried around on his arm. One day, Bull is in her quarter and...things just happen naturally...

The Iron Bull knows he is a big hulk, and a Qunari never does sex for love, but for the sake of just sex. He loves to let woman bounce on him, phrase their tits. But something just so different about this little girl. Is she even an adult? She looks so underage, but surely, she has big boobs, nice butt, even he never see her naked completely, he can tell she has a hot figure hiding behide those clothes. Ah, shit, just thinking of it he is on fire already. Too bad, those girls in the kitchen can’t really satisfied him anymore. He just...Shit, he has to make a move, hey, he is the Iron Fucking Bull, no go is alright, just her bodyguard and carry her and treasure the sensual of that ass sitting on his arm. But fuck, he knew she likes him! Fucking Inqusitor, he will throw her on to the bed and fuck her in and out. What? Shit, there will be no other woman as long as he is doing this with her. Oh fuck, he is real Fucking Bull now. Fuck, he wants her.

This story will have more rude words, used mainly when Iron bull is talking or thinking. And yeah, the Iron Bull is doom. Fall all over for the Boss. He will continue to deny the L word, but oh well, his heart and action will never lie anyway.

Some side Pairing in this ‘world/story’:

  Cullen Rutherford x Dorian Pavus

  Blackwall x Cassandra Pentagahst

These pairing may be mentioned throughout the story.

So far these are some ides in my mind.

[herald-divine-hell]

Amayian:

Leliana and the Inner Circle, sniffing: I care deeply for your happiness, and will fuck up anyone who tries to hurt you.

[veridium]

How did Josie react to finding out Theia was hiding it from her?

(Oh boy, I’m sorry this got so long, there was so much I wanted to include and it just kept snowballing)

It was late when the Inquisitor finally made it to her bedchambers in the Winter Palace. A thousand thoughts and concerns streamed through her mind as she ripped off her formal wear. She could go the rest of her life without being cinched up in that red jacket and unforgiving blue sash. Finally able to breath in nothing but her slacks and chest wrap, she paused for a moment. 

She put her hands on her hips and meandered to the gilded window beside her equally gilded bed. She held her breath and she gazed out aimlessly. 

���When were you going to tell me?” Josephine’s voice was cold, hurtful to hear. The Ambassador had been sitting on the chair by the fireplace, turned away from the door in such a way where her presence wouldn’t be immediately detected. No need, though, Theia already knew she was there. She knew back when she confessed to the Council that Josephine would hunt her down, covered by a face and demeanor of poise and grace so as to not let anyone on that she was upset and betrayed. Perhaps she just wanted to pretend for a moment longer that she was alone. Perhaps a part of her just wanted to keep hiding.

Regardless, she knew this wouldn’t be good. She looked down at the floor and grit her teeth.

“Josephine, please,” she murmured hopelessly.

“’Josephine, please, Josephine, this was beyond you, Josephine, it was better if you did not know. Gah! You are so predictable!” Josephine’s voice grew heated, though she tried not to be the yelling sort, her commitment to such a cause was being thoroughly tested.

Theia looked over her shoulder at her as the Ambassador lept from her seat and began pacing by the fire. 

“You have always done this. When it is magic or the anchor, you turn from me. You made me look like an oblivious fool in front of the Divine and Commander Cullen. You’ve relied upon me to keep this Exalted Council intact while you run off and cause whatever else to go wrong!” Josephine continued, hands animated with her anger.

Theia watched her quietly, a stone-face expression on her face as she tried to keep herself from creating a more bombastic situation than necessary.

“Do you have anything to say to me? You stand there like a boulder against a stiff, unforgiving wind, and you cannot even bear to admit what you did was wrong?” Josephine let a hint of sadness and pain show in her face and tone, Theia’s heart ached at it.

Quietly, Theia turned and faced her, hands still gripping her hips. She bit her lip and got the courage to look her lover directly in the eyes. When she did, a chill went down her spine: Josephine’s gaze was seething, looking for answers. She had never been the destination of her eyes like that before, and it pained her.

“Josephine, I had little options. I was afraid if it became common knowledge it would contaminate efforts for the Exalted Council. I cannot be a powerful force for our cause if people believe me doomed,” she tried to explain herself, but she could already take a guess at Josephine’s retort.

“So, you blind those who are your most-trusted allies so as to debilitate them when you need their support most?” Yep, textbook counter from the Lady Ambassador. 

“No, I. I told who I needed to.”

“Who in the world?”

Theia remained silent, once again looking down at the floor. A moment passed, and then, clarity.

“Dorian.” Josephine growled, turning away and looking towards the bright and ravenous fire. “I am going to kill both of you one day, mark my words,” she cursed under her breath. 

Theia sighed. “He is the only one besides…” she stopped herself from saying his name. The long-gone friend, who longed for an orb long shattered, and whatever else spurned his soul to leave without saying goodbye.

Theia took a breath, releasing him from her mind for a moment. “Dorian didn’t even know what to do, at the end of the line. He couldn’t just stay locked up with me and find out what was wrong. None of us know.”

“So, you thought since you brilliant, talented Inquisition Mages couldn’t, surely no one else could be of use?” Josephine was unrelentingly critical. 

“When I thought it was a lost cause, my mind went to protecting the Inquisition and the Council. I had to make a choice, and I made it. I didn’t want to scare you…” Theia was cut off.

“You certainly did make a choice. And now everything is at stake, and we are underprepared. We have no protocol for if we lose you beyond what we have provisionally agreed upon. The Inquisition will be in even worse jeopardy. Why do you have so little trust for those around you, Theia? After all we have been through, after all that has been sacrificed!?” Josephine’s voice elevated to the line between arguing fervently, and yelling. 

Theia was pinned and squirming under the weight of her choices. A tense silence filled the air before she broke it with a vengeance.

“I don’t know! Okay? I was wrong. I was scared, and I thought I was dying. I still think I’m–” she stopped herself again and turned away harshly, a hand going up in her hair.

Josephine’s chest fluttered with fear. The interweaving of her anger and the terror was overwhelming her, and she was infamously known for not losing her cool. It was scarcely charted territory for her. Meanwhile, Theia knew she was overwhelmed, and instead of fighting it, let it undo her for this one moment. 

Angrily, Theia punched the dresser drawer closest to her, creating a slight crater in the wood grain. That would have been bad enough, if it didn’t start fizzling with electricity from her skin, creating an indentation of static rage. It continued to sizzle and crack for a moment before dissipating; with the lack of contact with her skin, it was nothing more than an elemental outburst.

She kept her back to Josephine, not out of indignance, but out of guilt. She couldn’t bear to look her in the face after what she had done. 

The silence was only disturbed by the crackling of the fire and the forcefulness of Theia’s breathing. 

“Josephine, Maker knows you are as angry as a Wyvern for what I have done. I knew you would be hurt if you ever found out. I’m sorry for making you feel like a fool, like I somehow think you below me, below Mages. The truth is, I…I…” her voice cracked as her throat felt like it was calcifying from the tears bubbling over in her eyes. 

Josephine’s face softened a bit, caught off guard by Theia’s crying sounds as they erupted from her chest. Theia’s cries were deep in her lungs, the cries of a woman with too much to bear. 

“Mi Amor, I–”

“Please.” Theia’s voice called for a pause.

Josephine stopped and looked down at her hands coupled together in front of her. She was still fuming a bit, but now the full reality of what was before them had made itself known. She could lose the woman she’s loved vigorously for years, the woman she’s had to share with the world, share with all its evils and machinations. The woman who always found a way back to her, despite all odds, despite all predictions. It felt like the palace walls were caving in around her: after all those times she never lost her to the great wide unknown, she could lose her with her standing right in front of her eyes.

Theia at last turned to face her again, walking closer, until she was only a few strides away. Her face was quiet, but damp with tears that she let go unchecked. “I want you to know that everything I have done has been with the peripheral fear of losing you. No matter how much pain this causes me, it does not compare to the mere idea of being without you. Protecting you, not as my Diplomat, not as my ally, but as my Love, has been one of the foremost obsessions of my actions. It blinded me to my trust in you. I was wrong. But, it was only out of the deep, entrenched desire I had to fix it so that you would never have to worry.” 

Josephine’s eyes were now the ones welling up with tears as she listened to Theia’s testimony for her reckless actions. She swallowed roughly, trying to choke back the tide from her eyes. 

“You are so foolish,” Josephine breathed, closing her eyes and letting her chin lower in humility. A taste of bittersweet humor in her words.

At that sight, Theia’s hands made their way to Josephine’s face. Softly, she tilted Josephine’s chin back up to where it had been, high and dignified. Her eyes stayed on hers. “My love, there are worse things to be,” she whispered low.

Josephine became hungry for her even more. Anxiously, she grasped Theia’s left hand and kissed her open palm, tears now falling from her ocean-colored eyes.

Theia in turn kissed Josephine’s forehead, before finally having her lips land on Josephine’s. The kiss simmered from sweet to passionate, passionate to tireless. Eventually the inertia compelled Theia to walk backwards towards the bed. Within what felt like a small but consuming moment in time, all of the garments fell to the floor, and for at least another night, their hands were for each other.