Work Text:
::A note sent with updates on the Inquisition’s movements written in large, somewhat uncertain handwriting. Spelling has been corrected by another hand, the misspelled words crossed off and filled in with tight, neat handwriting::
Josephine,
You can’t join me on the road. I know that, and I think I prefer it that way. You are a fighter, not with a sword or a staff, but with your quill. I shudder to think of the power you hold in that vial of ink. But I don’t want you on the field.
I’ve never been good with words. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to you. You have enough words for us both. I don’t understand how you manage to say so many things in one sentence. You say one thing, but it means something else. Three something elses. When I say something it just means the one thing. How do you make sentences become more than the words they are made of?
Like the other night. When Comtesse du Chaumont made that… comment. About me. In front of everyone.
I won’t repeat it. I’m sure you know why.
I didn’t ask to be their Inquisitor. I’m not who they expected. But that’s not my fault. If I could go back and be a nobody, I’d do it. I’d be a nobody any day if it meant I was no longer being scrutinized.
But you, Josephine, my Josephine (how lucky I am to be allowed to say those words. They may be by two favorite words). You make things better.
I know my feelings don’t matter here. And I know I can’t speak up for myself without getting the wrong people upset. But you twisted your words, and you said those things to her… nothing you said was mean or directly offensive, but the Comtesse looked like she’d just eaten nug droppings when you were done with her (though knowing Orlesians, that might be a delicacy).
Anyway, forgive my broken words and rambling. I worry you’ll judge this attempt at a letter, but I wanted to send it anyway. I was too embarrassed to say thank you in person…
I love you, my Josephine,
-Ashra
::a note on the back of the letter in the handwriting that made the corrections::
Ruffles,
Hope you don’t mind me butting in here. Before you get mad at me for reading your private letters, our “little” Mouse said she didn’t want to send this letter without making sure she spelled everything right. For someone who’s only been writing a few months, she’s caught on quick. Smart one, our Mouse. But try telling her that. I’ve never seen someone so large try to take up so little space.
I know she just asked me to edit this and not put in my input. But you know me. I know Mouse thinks justice has been done by you putting that frilly-necked, mask-humping comtesse in her place. But I’m thinking we can do more.
She calls Mouse an ox? I’m thinking she needs some ox shit in that fancy new clawfoot bathtub she’s been bragging about. I hear it’s good for the skin! Pity about the awful smell though. And with her hosting the extended Imperial family next week? Shame.
Let me know what you think,
-Varric Tethras
::underlined three times with sweeping quill strokes::
PS: Save this letter. I know women who’ve offered their firstborn for an authentic Varric Tethras signature. You’re holding pure gold here.
::A note sent a week later to Varric’s attention::
Varric,
You have my full support. But I, and the rest of the Inquisition, will deny any involvement should you be caught. Though I do believe you would want to take credit for everything if that were to happen regardless.
-Josephine Montilyet
PS: Tell Ashra I don’t care about spelling mistakes. I have every intention of sending her letters that are not meant for your eyes (and do I expect after reading what I’ve sent her, she will be inspired to write something to me in return). You are hereby stripped of your editing duties. In fact, I forbid you from editing anything further.