Short: Welcome Back Inquisitor
Author’s Note: I want to write these little tender moments wherein my romantic pairings reunite after one of them returns from missions, etc. so I will be posting them here. It’s a neat way to see a side of each relationship. Just a short exercise for me to get into writing longer stuff.
Summary: The Inquisitor has returned to Skyhold after another perilous mission to The Exalted Plains in order to secure a bridge reconstruction plan and return injured personnel. Word has been communicated to Skyhold of their ordeals with dark spawn, the remnants of the Civil War, and of course, demons. Nonetheless, seeing one person again in particular reinvigorates her.
Characters: Inquisitor Theia Trevelyan, Ambassador Josephine Montilyet (#Theiaphine)
The road back to Skyhold had been an aggravated journey -- making the trek all the way back simply to execute plans for a bridge reconstruction, and to “resupply” wore on the Inquisitor’s patience. Still, seeing her troops’ faces when they finally made their way to the gates -- the relief and readiness in their expressions -- gave her some solace. And, admittedly, weeks in the Plains with nothing but letters from Josephine was as melancholic as always.
Arriving in the courtyard, like she had done many times now, Theia resisted the urge to feel the endearment of being home. Skyhold was just as much a holding of the land around it as it was the Inquisition -- in many ways it felt like they were merely under its patronage and mercy, rather than being owners or occupiers. Still, the familiarity of it was a blessing after so many days abroad.
Lowering her traveling hood, Theia patted her horse on the side of its neck, appreciative of the relatively smooth ride home. Dismounting swiftly, and handing off her horse to one of the stable staff, she felt the ache in her muscles as she made her way up the stairs. People were hugging and patting each other on the shoulders as friends, lovers, and comrades reunited. Infirmary staff gathered around the few injured souls they had brought back with them, going swiftly to work.
Theia took one look behind her, overseeing the stoic commotion. A part of her would always want to ensure that things were being taken care of and people were being attended to. It gave her a significant comfort that would otherwise go unrested if she simply dove into her own concerns.
Content with the scene, she grinned to herself and continued her way onwards and upwards. She tried to keep her heart from leaping out of its place in her chest as she anticipated who would be awaiting her at the stop of the second flight of steps. The face she always looked to when she crossed the threshold of the gates; the face she saw smiling with pride and relief when she did so just minutes ago.
Rounding the corner and walking up the stone steps, she finally let herself look up and soak in the moment. The tense and tired breath in her chest released herself as, inch my inch, she was able to see the exquisite woman she dreamt about in her waking and slumbering hours. For, there she was, Ambassador Montilyet: standing without her clipboard, for such things were unnecessary in these particular greetings. Her hands were holding each other in front of her waist, her eyes keen on her approaching company.
It was the same feeling of butterflies and contained ecstasy every time: decorum and a kind face covering up the celebration in her heart that Theia was returning in one piece.
The Inquisitor’s heavy steps finally brought her to the top, on the stone plateau connecting to the stairway which would take them to the great hall.
“Inquisitor,” Josephine smiled, bowing her head as she was finally able to see her face-to-face at eye level. She gave her a once-over: taking in her dark leather traveling armor, the scarf wrapped cozily around her neck in case she would have to protect her face from sand, rain, or snow. Her weathered and worn riding gloves encasing her hands at her sides. Her pale face with dark circles under her purple, effervescent eyes. Her white hair tucked up in a bun.
It never got old, not once.
Theia placed her hands on her hips, an endearing smile cracking on her lips.
“Ambassador,” she said knowingly, being playful with the formalities.
“I trust you have had a safe and efficient journey,” Josephine replied, taking a step closer.
“Yes, it was quite...stimulating,” Theia sighed lightly, “but I am relieved to be in a more captivating environment now.”
Josephine felt her stomach flip. The tone Theia had in her voice when she embarked on wordplay was irresistible, especially after weeks of not hearing it in person and having to imagine it via her language in letters.
“Surely, Skyhold does not compare to the vast countryside between here and the Exalted Plains,” Josephine’s chin tilted, her brow furrowing in a clever expression. Theia smirked, sliding off her riding gloves one by one and stretching out her right hand’s fingers and wrist. Josephine’s eyes watched as the hands she had come to know and crave so much revealed themselves. Her lips slightly parted as she did so.
“Josephine, I was not referring to the Fortress,” Theia’s voice said low. Then, the Inquisitor capitalized on her enticing charm. Stepping closer and remedying the problem of distance between them, she tossed the gloves to the floor and reached for Josephine’s waist. She pulled her in with a strong yet careful grip, causing the Ambassador to gasp softly at the audacity.
“Inquisitor!” she said in a hushed tone, trying not to draw more attention to the maneuver from below. Everyone could see the platform they were on, and any bodacious activity would surely garner an audience.
Hearing her title as her lips began closing in on Josephine’s, Theia chuckled under her breath. Her eyes flickered between her lips and her eyes, engrossed in both aspects of her features as well as everything in between.
“Josephine,” she breathed, one hand taking hold of the side of her gorgeous face. Their noses and foreheads gently touched as Josephine began to melt in her lover’s hold. Her eyes said remember decorum, but her body said toss it out the nearest window.
Her eyelids fluttered at the sound of her name, and she exhaled with a smile. “Theia,” she whispered in return.
The Inquisitor leaned into her more, finally receiving the greeting she had been longing for the entire time. Manners and etiquette be damned. Smiling broadly, Theia finished off her agenda with a passionately devout kiss. It wasn’t the most lustful, but it was consumed in love that was aching and reverent. Josephine kissed back, emboldened and liberated in one moment to be the woman who had been waiting for her lover to be back in her arms, flesh and bone, since the moment she left.
They kissed as if time stopped existing. They kissed like the war was another lifetime. Josephine’s arms wrapping around Theia’s neck as her back arched into her tightening hold. Theia’s protective grip on her woman, the only woman who could ever exist for her.
The audience could be the whole Capitol of Val Royeaux, and not a single face or opinion would count.
The moment of reverie passed, and when at last Theia broke her lips away from the embrace, she kept her eyes closed and her forehead to Josephine’s.
“I missed you with every inch of my soul,” she whispered, hands moving higher up Josephine’s back. Inhaling a most ravenous and lucid breath, her lungs were filled with the aura of her perfume and oils that she had craved every night of sleeping alone, every aching evening nursing wounds and reading reports.
The Ambassador blushed, her heart skipping beats as if they were treading on rocks across a river.
“And I missed you with every ounce of air in my chest, mi amor,” she whispered back. Josephine dared to love perhaps the only woman in all of Thedas who felt like a doom to do so. She did it without questioning: she was alive, and for a split minute in time, she was hers before being the world’s again.
In the open air, no doors or walls to fortify their defense, they forged the sanctity of their moment like all great pairs of lovers do: unapologetically, and with enough raw intention to take your breath away.
