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A fire crackled in the main courtyard of the Inquisition, its very presence dwarfing all those standing around it, basking in its warmth to fend off the biting cold of the mountainous air. Small groups formed around this blazing centrepiece as members of the Inquisition mingled with one another and made the most of their evening away from their duties. Civilians chatted with mages, spies laughed with scouts, the odd soldier even approached members of the Inner Circle who otherwise kept to themselves. The atmosphere was warm and friendly despite the threat of snow from the clouds above.
Josephine gazed down at this scene, she herself stood upon the stairs which led to the main hall. She couldn’t help feeling a sense of satisfaction that she had been able to organise some much needed - and much deserved - relaxation time for all members of the Inquisition to enjoy. And they did seem to be enjoying it if the noise was anything to go by. Having taken in the general sense of the scene below, she began to look for members of the Inner Circle to see if they were enjoying it just as much. She managed to locate most of them with ease, especially since they were huddled together in a few groups.
But she couldn’t see the man she was most eager to find for the life of her.
“Something wrong, Lady Ambassador?” A gravely voice came from behind her.
Much to her embarrassment, she jumped in surprise at the sudden interruption. She felt her cheeks warm as she turned around to greet the possessor of this voice.
“Blackwall! You startled me,” she responded. So that was where he had gotten to. “And please, there is no need to call me that. Josephine will do just fine, as I have said many times before.”
He smiled like he knew something she didn’t, but didn’t object to her request of which she was glad. His expression was as cozy as the fire burning in the courtyard below, but this was her own personal bonfire.
“Alright then, Josephine,” he said pointedly, leaving a pause for her to object. When she provided no such sentiment, he continued speaking. “Would you like some company?”
“I always appreciate your company, Blackwall,” she responded quickly, leaving her blushing when she realised she may have come off a bit too strongly. To her credit, she’d be instructed that it was her night off too several times by Leliana and had therefore she had drunk some wine over the course of the evening.
His grin widened upon hearing her unfiltered response. At least he seemed pleased with this new information and not overwhelmed as she had been anxious would be the case. He should smile more often, she thought absentmindedly. It made his face light up and all his features suddenly became all the more handsome for it.
Maker, how much had she had to drink!
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, interrupting her train of thought. “I feel very much the same about you. I hope it is not too bold of me to say that.”
“No, no,” she assured him. “Quite the contrary. I admit I was looking for you when you found me here.”
“You were?”
His voice became higher as he spoke and she noticed his eyes widen slightly for a few seconds before he evidently caught himself. While such a coverup would have never worked when playing the Game in Orlais, Josephine found herself somewhat enamoured with it. Her feeling for him had been present for some time, playing at the back of her mind not only during their every interaction, but also in the moments in between. She had found herself distracted thinking about him one too many times for it to be called a coincidence.
But should she tell him?
Realistically, she knew that even if he were to feel the same it would be unlikely she could sustain a relationship with him for any length of time. He was a warden and she was an aristocratic ambassador. Their worlds were simply not the same and he deserved to be given a fair shot at a relationship. But despite all these reasons which should push them apart, Josephine found that she didn’t care. She needed to give this a chance.
“Blackwall, would you like to dance?” she asked him, answering his question with one of her own.
She prayed to the Maker that she wouldn’t regret this.
His face went through several expressions, clearly not expecting such a proposition, but he did not seem to react negatively immediately which was a good start.
“If you’re being serious,” he spoke slowly as if she would interrupt him at any moment to snatch away the offer, “then I would love nothing more, although we have no music.”
Josephine felt her cheeks grow hot at her miscalculation. Of course there was no music. She had organised this event and she knew better than anybody what it entailed and music had decidedly not been something she had thought of. She suddenly found herself cursing her past self for not even thinking about music as a way of promoting relaxation to the whole Inquisition and even to herself.
But then seemingly from no where the soft hum of instruments began play as if approaching slowly. her head snapped up in surprise as she tried to identify what in the Maker was going on and if she was imagining things.
As she scanned her eyes over the crowd below she saw a gradually growing group of revellers who had taken it upon themselves to add to the festivities. Her gaze then fell upon Leliana who, looking straight at her, simply offered a knowing smile before returning to her conversation with Lady Vivienne.
“If this is your doing, you have phenomenal timing ,” Blackwall’s smile radiated through his voice.
She regained herself and met his gaze once more, again struck by his handsomeness. “Unfortunately, I cannot take credit for this. However, my offer still stands should you wish to take advantage of this opportunity.”
He hummed, offering his hand out for her to reach out and take. “You make an offer I can’t refuse, my Lady.”
Placing her hand in his and allowing herself to be drawn close enough that she should feel his breath upon her face. She curled her free hand around his upper arm as they began to move slowly to the music.
“Josephine,” she reminded him.
“Josephine,” he repeated with a nod.
His hand felt warm against hers as their fingers intertwined in a way that felt oddly intimate but also so right as if she can been waiting her whole life for this. The fear that she wouldn’t be able to give this up if it was required of her briefly entered her mind before she pushed it out in favour of staring into the warden’s dark eyes which in turn stared right back at her. His eyes were so full of an affection she hadn’t even known for certain existed minutes ago.
As they settled into their hold, they began to move in a more formal dance rather than the rhythmical shuffle to which they had previously been confined. To her surprise, his footwork was clean and his posture almost as good as her own, if a little out of practice. She absentmindedly wondered when he had had the chance to learn. Probably at some point in his years as warden, he had been invited to a ball and been taught by his superior or maybe a fellow recruit. Or maybe he had learnt for a woman, someone he had loved in the past, before coming to the Skyhold, to the Inquisition, to her.
The chatter and the laughter and even the music from below all faded away as they focused on one another and Josephine wanted to capture this moment in time and live in it forever. In that second, she hoped - irrationally, she knew - that this night would never end, the music would never stop, Blackwall would never stop gazing into her eyes like she was his entire world.
Because in that moment he was hers.