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Herah is six when she figures out that she likes the women just slightly more than the men. Her parents, while concerned with the declaration at such a young age, support her choice all the same. Neither of them voices the opinion that others seem to think. Of it being no more than a childhood phase and that she will grow to like the men more.
Her mother just smiles.
“At least my child is smart enough to already know what some of her preferences and desires are,” Mother says with a bright smile on her lips as she ruffles her daughter’s hair carefully around itchy, growing horn nubs.
Her father just laughs and laughs while holding a whetstone and a pointed dagger tightly as though daring the non Tal-Vashoth around them to try taking his daughter from them. Telling her to not think such things, that she’s already sinning against the Maker with her thoughts.
From her parents, she learns how best to wield dual daggers and how to defend herself if someone wishes to do her harm.
She’s eleven when her magical abilities appear and accidentally kills a few sheep with her lack of control outside of a town where her parents have been looking for work. The old farmer scowls at her, his son stares at her with wide eyes, and her parents both sigh reflexively, prepared for an argument with the man.
“There’s an apostate on the edge of my lands. Get her trained,” he says simply and they all blink at him.
“You aren’t going to turn them in to the Templars and the Chantry, Father?” The son asks quietly, casting them a look of concern.
“In her case, they may just simply kill the girl instead of sending her to a Tower. No. Not for something as simple as a mistake, when new abilities appear. And you shouldn’t either, boy.” The old Farmer says with a shake of his head and a sidelong glare at his son, who is quick to agree with his father.
Her parents take her to the Apostate Mage the next day to learn how to control her new abilities and to their relief, she agrees to teach Herah.
It takes a year or two, but from the Mage, she learns how to control the flow of her new power and how to cast different spells. It is exciting and exhilarating to feel the growing strength of her magic.
She’s nineteen when she joins Shokrakar’s merc group, the Valo-Kas. She develops a crush on Shokrakar and figures out quickly enough that beyond kissing a lover she has no interest in going beyond that. She says exactly these words to Shokrakar, when the other woman asks if she has done anything wrong to make Herah pull away from her.
“No, it is not you. It is more to do with me. I have no interest in anything beyond kissing,” Herah pants as she and Shokrakar lay against each other.
“I don’t mind. Though I won’t push you for anything beyond that,” Shokrakar says softly as she plays with Herah’s hair gently.
“You don’t think I’m strange or a monster?” Herah asks softly, not looking at the other Tal-Vashoth woman, rather instead at her kiss-bruised lips. Two fingers gently tilt her chin back up to meet Shokrakar’s gaze.
“To some, you and I are strange monsters. But in this matter no. You and I are not monsters in this. You are not strange nor a monster in my eyes, Herah. Not in this. Never in the matter of who you are and who you choose to bed with. These are your preferences, take courage in them and learn where your boundaries lay. Only those who choose to not respect them are the monsters,” Shokrakar says in a serious tone that allows for no arguments to be made.
“I suppose you’re right, Shokrakar,” Herah answers with a soft sigh. Shokrakar chuckles loudly before quieting.
“Of course I am, Adaar. Don’t let anyone try to tell you otherwise. Now would you like to do more kissing?” Shokrakar says with a grin.
“Yes. I liked the kissing a lot.” Herah says, smiling lightly as a grinning Shokrakar leans back in towards her to capture her lips.
She’s twenty-nine, almost thirty, when the Conclave is destroyed and she finds herself accused of destroying it, and killing the Divine and countless others. She has no idea what has become of the Valo-Kas members that accompanied her to Haven.
While she wishes to find her comrades and friends, the Seeker pushes her to head towards the ruins and the hole in the sky. She doesn’t remember there being a hole in the sky when her team first arrived in Haven. Even as powerful as she is, Herah doesn’t feel like she has quite enough power in her grasp to do something as damaging as tear it and the Veil open.
But she manages to slow down the growth of the Breach and everyone is suddenly calling her the Herald of Andraste. Herah’s still not quite sure how she feels about that.
Of course, meeting the Lady Josephine Montilyet and Scout Harding – becoming fast friends with them – are two bright points in all of this madness of fighting demons and trying to seal green, angry portals in the Veil.
She decides that she first falls in love with Josephine while witnessing the woman calmly dissuade an annoyed Marquis from petitioning the Empress about the Inquisition’s continued presence in Haven.
Herah turns back to watch the beautiful Ambassador circle around her desk and offers a slight smile as she moves to stand before the shorter woman.
“You handled the Marquis rather well, Lady Montilyet.”
“Yes, well. Better to deal with the man calmly and through him spread word that the Inquisition only wishes to help deal with the chaos brought by the Breach.”
“Will having that sort of reputation help the Inquisition in the long run?”
“I hope so, Herald. We can’t afford to have a besmirched reputation running rampant if we wish to be taken seriously by everyone.” Josephine states in a soft, serious tone.
Right, because they wouldn’t already have that with a Tal-Vashoth like her running around trying to help. Herah reaches down to run her finger along the spine of the books that sit on the desk as she tilts her head slightly to the right.
“Then I am glad that you are here with us, Lady Montilyet. I’m sure that you will have a lot on your hands in an organization that has a Tal-Vashoth, trying to put out the fires.” Herah says with a small half smile.
The Ambassador smiles softly. “No doubt that is true, my lady. And please, Herald, call me Josephine,” Josephine says with a laugh that sounds like music to Herah’s ears.
“Hello, Josephine. You may address me as Herah,” Herah responds quietly, glad that the dark tone of her skin hides her blushing cheeks somewhat.
She beats a hasty retreat from the room before she can give in to the urge to kiss Josephine at that very moment.
Scout Harding, she finds, is the first Dwarf to be intriguing. As she gets better acquainted with Harding, she comes to know that her first name is Lace and she decides that as beautiful and small as Lace Harding is, she is full of humor, wit, and intelligence.
Her personality is boundless and bright as it shines out in spades; it is cunning and cutting when she’s annoyed while easy going and teasing when she is amused.
Also very fiercely defensive of her friends and allies.
Is this what it is like to be in love with two beautiful people at the same time? Herah wonders quietly to herself.
One day, when Herah’s group is captured by a troupe of bravely, brazen bandits wishing to make quick money off of them, Scout Harding leads a team of ten and rescues them from their short-lived captors.
“Scout Harding. I commend you and your team on your timing. What would like your reward to be?” Herah asks softly when the two of them are alone. The others are being tended to a bit a ways from them.
“I wouldn’t say no to a kiss, Your Worship,” Lace answers with a considering look and blushes at her own boldness to ask such a thing.
“I think that can be arranged, my scout,” Herah answers with a soft huff and kisses the smaller woman on the lips once. She says softly for her alone to hear. “You have my permission to meet me in my personal quarters at Skyhold for non Inquisition meetings.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I love you.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“I love you too.”
Rescuing Josephine from the betrothal and not publicly shaming the man’s family – who could easily be an ally to the Inquisition – right there with the blackmail material that her people had managed to find is the best gift that Herah feels like she can give to the woman she loves.
“Thank you for not getting yourself killed, my love. It would have been difficult to explain your loss to the Inquisition and our followers,” Josephine says, as she hugs her gently.
“You’re welcome, lovely lady. That would certainly inconvenience everyone, except Corypheus, which we can’t have,” Herah answers with a soft snort. “Although…”
Josephine looks up at Herah, gives her a long considering look as they walk to the stables together. Inquisition Scouts and some of Herah’s inner circle move in to form a barrier around the two of them.
“Is there something else that you wish to speak of, my love? I am willing to listen if you are willing to discuss the matter.” Josephine asks softly, squeezing Herah’s right hand gently.
“Not here, but in my private quarters at Skyhold. There is a small matter that we need to speak on,” Herah says softly, gently squeezing her hand back.
“Will Scout Harding be there as well?” Josephine asks carefully and Herah felt Josephine’s heartbeat quicken.
“Yes, I would think so, as it will affect her as well. Affect how you both see me,” Herah answers with a sidelong glance at Josephine. She falls quiet as they enter the stables to retrieve their mounts.
“I doubt anything you tell them will make them see you differently, Quizzy,” Varric snorts with a toothy grin on his face. “Of course you could tell me. It’ll make for an interesting tidbit to add to the tales, I’m sure.”
“This a private conversation. Not for your ears, Varric. Now mount up everyone,” Herah responds with a roll of her eyes and a small half smile.
She’s actually looking forward to sleeping back in her own bed after making such a long journey to confront the man, who would have been in control of Josephine’s future.
Herah’s not sure how either Josephine or Lace will take the conversation so much that she is actually dreading having it with them. How will they handle it? Will they think her strange and a monster for revealing her disinterest in the pleasures of the flesh and leave her?
Or will they be more like Shokrakar was when they had spoken about it in that bed; accepting and inquiring where her boundaries lay in such matters?
She remembers the conversation that she had had with Bull, back when she had decided to ask him about the Qun. To know a little more about the thing that she was not part of. The thing that her parents had willingly left behind to become Tal-Vashoth, because they had fallen in love with each other and that required them leaving the Qun to avoid being re-educated. Forced to forget each other and the emotional ties that had grown between them.
She stands at the front of their lines, knows that most of the Chargers beyond Krem and The Iron Bull don’t quite trust her yet. So she stays just out of weapons range – still probably not far – and raises her voice just a little.
“Iron Bull.”
The man looks up from his quiet conversation with Krem and looks at her.
“Hey, Boss. What’d you need?”
In an effort to look away from that knowing gaze of his, she glances at the rest of the group around them. The Iron Bull and his Chargers are new tentative allies for hire to the Inquisition and their Tal-Vashoth Herald is still so new to most people that most recruits stare in awed-silence at her. Like they’re doing right now.
She knows that Cassandra, Solas, and Varric are staring as well. Though their staring is more out of necessity and watchful concern. In case the Qunari mercenary they just signed on gets the idea to kill their Herald.
Herah tilts her head slightly.
“Walk with me. To talk. Please.”
Varric snickers loudly as he watches, Cassandra narrows her eyes, and Solas purses his lips, likely in disapproval, as The Iron Bull stands up calmly and waits for her. She waits for Cassandra to speak, her spine stiff as raindrops make lines down her face, her horns, and leave her long, dark hair in tangly knots.
“I do not think that is wise, Herald. I think it would be wiser to talk here, where we can see you two.”
Herah tilts her head slightly.
“I understand your concern and note it for the record, Seeker Pentaghast. However, there are things best discussed alone and without little ears listening.”
The staff on her back feels heavy as they walk away from the group and her newest Companion’s gaze is yet another weight on her back. She leads them to a high small cliffside outcropping with very little cover that overlooks the ocean.
Iron Bull gives her a knowing glance as she turns to look at him and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Any reason for this particular location? How do you know I won’t kill you before the Inquisition’s people can find us?”
“Mostly to give the Inquisition Scouts a difficult time. This spot is more or less a secluded location that I saw on the Inquisition’s maps of the area, and we’ll be able to see them coming. Don’t forget, if you kill me, then the Inquisition will be most unhappy to lose its savior to the world. And, your Chargers won’t get paid,” She says with a slight grin as she shrugs one shoulder.
The Iron Bull tosses his head back and just laughs loudly.
“Yeah true. And here I thought you were gonna challenge me to a private duel for being Ben-Hassrath. You’re not as stupid as I thought, Herald,” he says as his laughs turn to chuckles. He gives her a sidelong look. “Though if you want that private duel still, we can always meet in your quarters at Haven.”
She scrunches her nose up at the mere thought and Iron Bull chuckles knowingly.
“Ah, I see. So it's like that,” he says with a knowing finality in his tone and she looks quietly back at him.
“So you don’t think that I’m some kind of monster then?” Herah asks calmly.
He gives her a serious look.
“I think I can perfectly say that for all that I have heard of you before we met today that you are not a monster, Boss. Everyone is different and finds their pleasures in different ways. You are strange to me and other agents of the Qun because you were born outside of the Qun thanks to the choices your parents made. But your preferences, Boss? Those are your own alone to embrace and explore no matter what someone else thinks,” he says seriously while pointing a large grey finger at her.
“Do the Tamasarans make those who don’t have the inclination do that for the Qun?” she asks softly.
“Not to my knowledge. The Tamas only choose the ones that they feel to have the best attributes both mental and physical for the next generations of the Qun – which is how I imagine that your parents met before they fled the Qun. In any case, unless they have the attributes that the Tamasarans test for and deem needed for the continuing of the Qun, I would think that they are left to the role that they were placed into by their Tama.” He answers with a high shrug of one shoulder.
She opens her mouth before shutting it with a click as Herah spots the heraldry of the Inquisition Scouts closing in on their location. She sees the moment that Iron Bull notices them as well, as his whole demeanor seems to change and he looks at her.
“Keep in mind what I said, Boss. I think you will like using my advice the more we continue this partnership.”
She nods seriously in response and taps her fingers against her lips as though they were simply discussing what paths to take next while they were on the Storm Coast, looking for Warden camps and Fade Rifts to close.
“Right. Thank you for the advice, Iron Bull. I’m sure it will be very helpful as your team no doubt knows the area better than the Inquisition’s people.”
“Damn straight, Boss.”
To say that Herah isn’t a bundle of nerves when Josephine and Lace enter her quarters would be a lie. It gladdens her heart, however, when they are both agreeable to her insistence that the door be locked to keep the ears of servants out of what is meant to be a private conversation.
Herah smiles as she watches Lace and Josephine greet each other with softly spoken words and gentle hand brushing, then fidgets under their combined gaze. She feels trapped at that moment, bound tightly in her own skin and clothes, like a younger child that doesn’t know how to speak her own desires and wants.
She’s gently decided the fate of others, been just as well as harsh where the situation needs it and when the moment calls for it. So why can she not do this one simple, little thing?
How is it –?
A small hand gently takes a hold of her wrist and pulls her out of her swirling thoughts.
“Inquisitor? Is everything alright?”
She draws in a deep breath through dry lips and looks at Lace, trying for a smile. Judging by the concern on the Dwarf’s face, it's probably not much of one. She realizes that she’s nearly paced a worn path through one of the rugs that lay on the floor of her quarters.
“I think after all this time, you have the right of using my name rather than my title, Lace.”
Herah blinks in surprise as Josephine joins them on her unoccupied side and takes hold lightly of the wrist that is host to the Anchor. It crackles softly seemingly in response to the light pressure.
“Please share with us, my love. Perhaps we can be of assistance?”
Herah closes her eyes slowly and breathes out. In and out, slowly, she takes each breath, just as Shokrakar taught her to do before taking a stressful job with angry humans and the sharp tools they used around them.
“I am simply afraid that if I tell you of what I have held so close to my heart for so long it will cause you to view me differently than you do now. And then it will give an end to whatever this thing between the three of us is and I will be alone.”
Josephine huffs softly.
“Even so, my heart. Lace and I can’t make a decision on the matter unless you tell us. Take a deep breath in and come sit with us.”
Two pairs of small hands tug her onto the couch in front of the fireplace and gently keep her there as both of them sit on either side of her. Herah notes gratefully they aren’t crowding her, giving just enough space for her to leave if the option is needed.
“I wasn’t sure how to tell either of you when we first began this relationship. How could I have? I didn’t want either of you to think that I am some sort of strange monster in this.”
Deep breath in, hold, and exhale. She repeats the mantra to calm the nerves in her stomach while her heart rises up in her throat. She does not wish to lose them, so she takes the plunge over the edge.
“I… I don’t like sex. I’ve never had the inclination or need to do anything beyond kissing and touching another person. I was so sure I would tell you and then you think of me as a monster for that.”
Josephine and Lace look at each other then back at Herah. Josephine moves to rest her head gently against her shoulder, watching as Lace gently plays with her fingers.
“Does this inclination have anything to do with how the Qun or Chantry or any of the other races might view same-sex relationships? Or something to do with Josie and me?”
“No, not at all on either count. It is just something that I have known my whole life.”
Josephine looks up at the side of her face, gaze dragging up from the side of her neck.
“Who else knows?”
“My Company commander, Iron Bull, and now you two. Shokrakar knows because she was the one to help me figure out where my boundaries in the matter lay truly.”
Josephine’s eye roll is full of fond amusement.
“Somehow I am not surprised that Bull knew before we did.”
“Well I mean it is more or less his job to know these things wouldn’t you say, Josie. I think he did predict after all that one or both of us would get together with our dearest Inquisitor. And as far as the sexual nature of our relationship, I think Josie and I can find ways to entertain ourselves. Though we can make sure that you don’t feel left out of the fun if need be.”
“Mmmm, indeed.”
“C’mere Herah.”
Herah flushes as Lace tugs her down for a kiss that’s meant to be light and chaste. Josephine keeps a light hand on her hand to watch them. Gently bracing, yet not quite crowding her space as the three of them learn each other’s boundaries by touch.