Chapter Text
Maraas Adaar gazed steadily at the Antivan woman sitting at her desk. She worked at a fairly fast pace, the result of years with the Inquisition. She had only gotten better after the defeat of Corypheus and the letters and requests from nobles and common folk alike came pouring in. Maraas admired her lover’s diligence despite her presence in the antechamber. The paperwork Josephine was working on must be very important if not even the seven and half foot tall Qunari could distract her.
“Josie,” Maraas called softly from the armchair, where she lounged languidly, relishing the feel of the fire warming her skin that always seemed perpetually cold. Josephine’s eyes flicked upwards before returning to the work at hand, but with a secret smile gracing her dark lips. Maraas leaned forward in the chair, coming to rest her elbows on her folded legs in front of her and her grey face in her hands. The chaise under her groaned in response, completely against the shifting weight of a full-grown Qunari, even if she was slighter than the males of her species.
They sat in companionable silence, Maraas patiently waiting and Josephine reading and signing papers at a mile a minute. Maraas could wait forever for the diplomat; her patience for the woman was never-ending. Especially today, she needed her to be completely finished with her duties before she spoke about a certain subject that had been on her mind for quite a while now…
Finally, Josephine leaned back in her chair with a delicate groan, rolling her wrists to work out the kinks and cramps. She turned her face towards her Inquisitor, her secret smile back in place, lips stretched smooth and dark. Maraas grinned back and stood up to walk the few steps to Josephine’s high backed chair. She went behind it and began gently kneading her lover’s shoulders, finding a comfortable rhythm to her ministrations. The human hummed and relaxed into the chair, abandoning her usual stiff posture under such delicious pressure on her back. It was silent, except for the crackling of the fire and the occasional pleasured sigh.
Maraas broke the silence. “Josie.” Another hum. “How do you feel about kids?”
A light tensing in the woman’s shoulders, before she released them with practiced skill. Maraas noticed, though; this conversation would not be handled lightly by either one of them and that was just as well.
“They are…nice enough,” she said carefully. Maraas frowned at the calculated response. She thought they were past playing The Game with each other. Her massive hands continued down to massage the wiry muscles of Josephine’s back, the result of recent activities with the Qunari woman.
“Have you ever thought about having some of your own?” she asked, troubled by the way her body tensed again under her hands. So this was to be a mine field, she thought, simultaneously wearied and excited by the prospect. Navigating the proceeding conversation would take all of her talent to make sure Josephine didn’t shut her out.
“Of course,” Josephine replied, shrugging off Maraas’ hands. She shimmied her chair out from behind the desk and went to stand in front of the fireplace, lips pursed and delicate fingers laced behind her back. Maraas saw the defensive stance for what it was and didn’t move closer, only leaned against the now unoccupied desk.
“But?”
Josephine snorted. “Despite the obvious obstacle of us both being women, there is so much to do. We have far too many responsibilities to even consider raising a child.”
Maraas always knew of Josephine’s practicality. She understood the all-too-valid points she was making but it still wounded her. After coming to Thedas and seeing all of the happy, bouncing babies in their mother’s arms, Maraas yearned for one of her own. But between the Conclave and defeating Corypheus, there had been no time. Now, though…
“You’re sounding a bit like Cassandra, love,” Maraas said, a bit jokingly but mostly serious.
“I just…” Josephine trailed, arms repositioning to cross in front of her. She rubbed at her arms, as if she were cold despite the warmth of her indulgent clothing and the even warmer room. She have an exasperated sigh and turned to face Maraas rather suddenly. Her expression was heartbreaking and it killed Maraas to just stand there and look at her. She rushed forward and curled her back to capture Josephine’s screwed up lips, gently massaging them into their regular, plump selves. Josephine responded in kind, warm fingers inching up the Qunari’s body to rest in the space between her breasts.
Maraas laid her chin on Josephine’s neatly coiffed hair and rubbed her back. She didn’t press for an answer for the sudden emotional outburst that was so uncharacteristic of the diplomat; all in good time. The smaller woman traced circles in her cleavage and Maraas enjoyed the fact that the silence was not uncomfortable.
“I know that there are…options for us, if we wish it,” Josephine began. Maraas loved the words ‘us’ and ‘we’ and felt they were pure gold that dripped from the Antivan’s luscious mouth. “But neither of us have any experience with raising a child. And, really, how much time do we have?”
Once again, she was right. It was very logical and Maraas accepted that. But, for once, she didn’t want to be logical. Nothing had been so since the Breach, so why should she now?
“That’s going to be the fun of it,” Maraas breathed, “No planning. No warning. Just the unpredictability that is a child.”
Josephine’s hand clenched against her chest and she huffed out a chuckle. She was obviously warming up to the idea. The Qunari allowed herself to imagine a pleasantly pregnant Josie, still working at her desk but resting much more often and fondly cradling her swollen stomach. The thought made her immeasurably happy.
“It does sound rather exciting,” Josephine admitted, craning her neck to look up at her lover. Maraas beamed and planted a warm kiss on her forehead, earning a scrunched up nose in return.
“Great, because I asked Bull—“
“Bull?” her partner interrupted, pushing away at last. Maraas scratched at the place behind her right horn, a comforting spot that spoke of her nervousness. “What does The Iron Bull have to do with this?”
And here it comes. “Well, it’s only one solution. In case we wanted one that was actually related to one of us—“
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Josie asked, appalled. The mine was right under her foot now. Maraas held up her hands in an appeasing manner, trying to calm the increasingly distressed Antivan.
“We don’t have to do it that way! We can adopt! Maker knows there are plenty of needy children out there. I just thought…”
Another exasperated noise and Josephine flopped rather ungracefully onto the chaise recently unoccupied by the Qunari. Her face was flushed a coppery color and Maraas had to laugh at the sight. She knelt in front of her and still had to curve her back in order to look the human in the eyes.
“It was just a suggestion, love,” she said, touching reddened cheeks with her silvery fingers, “I would never pressure you to do anything, you know that.”
“I know, I know,” Josephine conceded. She wrinkled her nose, “But The Iron Bull? Really?”
Maraas let out a great booming laugh, one that came from the bottom of her stomach and rippled out of her wide mouth. Josephine’s face changed from incredulous to amused before she finally laughed herself, a small giggling that was appropriate for a nobles salon. They ended with their foreheads pressed together, little hiccups of laughter still bubbling from their throats.
They looked into each other’s eyes, mirth present on the surface. Maraas loved this woman with all her heart; she’d follow her to the Void and back. She lightly touched the tip of her nose to the Antivan’s and followed the slope down to her lips, kissing first one corner, then the other before planting wide lips on Josephine’s pursed ones.
“We could always go with Dorian instead,” she whispered against Josephine’s lips. A groan followed and she let out another bark of a laugh.