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When the Marquis DuRellion finally left, slamming the office door behind him, both Josephine Montilyet and Nari Lavellan breathed a sigh of relief.
Nari, as was her wont, broke the ensuing silence: “Do all shems make things this complicated? Or is it just the ones around here?”
That startled a laugh out of Josephine, a bit of the tension leaving her shoulders. “I’m afraid this sort of thing is quite common in our politics, Your Worship. I’m sure your life before all this wasn’t nearly so complex.”
“Yeah, I mean, sometimes we’d meet another Clan and things got a little weird, but other than that…” Nari glanced around the candle-lit room, suddenly strangely hesitant to look Josephine in the eye. In any other case, she would be disgusted by a shem wearing such a fine outfit, with such perfectly-done hair. But somehow, this woman seemed so genuine that the effect was completely the opposite. “I’m just glad you’re around to deal with stuff like this. If he’d come to me acting like we all had to clear out of here, I would’ve- well, I wouldn’t have handled it like that.”
Josephine’s expression softened in a way that made her even harder to look at. “I understand that we’ve been asking a lot of you. With you holding the only key to our salvation,” she motioned towards Nari’s left hand, currently shoved into one of the pockets of an appropriated fur coat, “We have no choice but to center you in the Inquisition’s plans. This cannot be easy for you, with the way so many of us behave towards elves.”
To anyone else, Nari would snap that she didn’t need some shem’s pity. That she could handle herself just fine, thank you very much. To Josephine, she said, “It really is… a lot. I barely knew anything about your politics until I had to go to the Conclave, and now suddenly everyone’s asking my opinion about everything, acting like I speak for some god I don’t know anything about.” Jerking her hands out of her pockets, she gestured wildly to her face, tattooed with the symbols of Dirthamen. “You would think it would be obvious that I don’t worship Andraste, but apparently shems don’t even know what these markings mean!”
At the mention of Andraste, Nari glanced at Josephine’s face in time to see her falter slightly. Oh, right: even Josephine, who seemed to understand her better than anyone else, still wanted to believe that the shemlen gods had sent her as a sign in their darkest hour. “I- sorry. I know this whole Herald thing is kind of important to you.” Super great apology, Nari, totally not making everything a thousand times worse. Why did she even care so much about what this one particular human thought? She jammed her hands back into her pockets, and forced herself to at least look at Josephine’s shoulder, certain her face must be as red as her hair now.
Josephine smiled, a little sadly. “There’s no need to apologize, Mistress Lavellan. These are difficult times, which have brought people of many different backgrounds under a common cause. I don’t expect you to share my beliefs, or anyone else’s.”
Nari thought about Leliana demanding answers from her on behalf of the Maker. She thought about the requisitions officer offering her a bucket and mop before noticing the mark on her hand. She thought about the looks she got from Chancellor Roderick and Mother Giselle and Cassandra and Cullen and every single stupid cleric in their fancy robes whenever she swore to the Creators rather than Andraste. Then, she remembered Josephine, speaking what little Elven she knew, trying to make her feel welcome in a room full of humans.
Nari bowed her head. “Ma serannas, Josephine. I’m… not good at talking about this kind of thing, but you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I had any choice in all this. You’ve. Probably got a lot of important ambassador stuff to do, though, so I should go.” She turned towards the door, determined to leave before she could embarrass herself any further.
“Nari, wait,” Josephine placed a hand on her shoulder, and she swore she could feel the warmth of it even through her thick coat. Nari turned, and reluctantly forced herself to look the human in the eye. The other woman looked so fragile, in her ornamental outfit and tall heeled shoes, but Nari knew that without her this Inquisition would have already collapsed beneath its own weight. “If you need me to have a word with the other Inquisition leaders about being more respectful of your heritage, I would be more than willing to. You need not bear this burden alone.”
“Just knowing you’ve got my back is enough for me, Josephine,” Nari grinned, sharp as the head of one of her arrows. “And I’ve got plenty of practice with letting shems know what I think of them.”
Josephine smiled back, radiant as the sun and just as blinding. “You certainly do, Mistress Lavellan. I look forward to our next meeting in the War Room.”
And as Nari exited the Chantry into the cold bright light of day, she found that she was looking forward to their next meeting, as well. Shoving her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat, she started walking towards the gates of Haven.