Work Text:
Josephine sat at her desk, sifting through a stack of diplomatic requests that seemed to strongly suggest she might never have time to sleep again. With a sigh, she pulled the next sheet off the stack. It was a rather long-winded letter, from Comtess de Launcet of course, complaining about everything under the sun from Skyhold's accommodations to the perceived delay in being invited to visit. Josephine would remember to find a diplomatic reason not to invite the Comte and Comtess back to Skyhold.
"What are you doing?" a voice asked from beside her. Josephine nearly jumped in her chair as she saw Cole standing next to the bookcase.
"How do you do that, Cole?" she asked, a hand clutched at her chest. Her brow furrowed as he looked at her expectantly. Josephine glanced down at the letter, surprised to see that she been doodling little ducklings in the margins without even realizing.
"What are they?" Cole asked, pointing to the drawings.
"They're ducks," she told him, sounding somewhat annoyed. She didn't think her doodles were so terrible as to be unrecognizable, although upside down she did realize they looked a bit like blobs with feet.
"You like ducks," he announced. "I saw a duck once, down by the pond. A little boy was throwing rocks at it. I made him stop."
"That's... good of you," Josephine replied, unsure of exactly how to respond.
"Why do you like ducks, Josephine?" Cole asked, cocking his head slightly.
"Uh, well I've never really thought about it, I suppose," she replied, leaning on the desk and resting her face in her hands. "They're cute, and fluffy, and innocent, I suppose."
"Scout Harding thinks I'm cute and innocent," Cole commented. "Not fluffy."
Josephine couldn't stifle the laugh at Cole's comparison between himself and a duck. She could agree with Harding that Cole was rather adorable in his own special way, including the way he appeared at just the moment she needed a distraction. Josephine could feel the smile spreading on her face.
"A flurry of feathers, the water glitters like diamonds as she smiles and dances in the grass," Cole said. "You miss home."
Josephine's smile faded slightly. "Yes, I miss my home in Antiva," she admitted, thinking of all the times she had visited the park as a child. The park with the lake that was always filled with swans and ducks. It reminded her of her parents, and outings with her siblings. She could almost smell the spring air.
"The ducks here aren't like your ducks," Cole continued. "They're brown and loud."
"The ducklings in Antiva were always the most marvelous shade of yellow," Josephine mused with a smile. "They would come right up to your hand when you went to feed them. As a child I was always so delighted by our trips to the park."
"You should visit the ducks at the pond," Cole suggested. "Even though they're brown."
"Brown is not such a drab color," Josephine told him with a laugh. "Thank you, Cole. I might just do that."
Cole's eyes brightened from beneath his hat. As he turned to leave, Josephine looked back down at the letter, now covered in little ducklings. Perhaps she would visit the pond after all.