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Scent-sational Evening
(Day 3 – Scent)
The paperwork was never ending and most days neither was her ability to get through it all but even Josephine had moments where she needed to step away.
She realized this when she was curt with the assistant currently going over the high points of a trade agreement from Jader. “Are you quite sure they want the Inquisitor himself to go and waste his time on such a venture?” she asked shortly. The woman started and lost her place glancing up at her employer.
“N…no my lady they probably do not,” the woman stammered. She was younger than Josephine. She remembered suddenly looking into the wide eyes that she had picked the young woman out herself as she had shown great insight in Haven for reading between the lines. Josephine looked down and rubbed her temples. A headache formed in her temples further shortening her normally calm temper.
“Please take some time to read a bit further and then write a summary and your best guess as to what they really want and how best we can go about it without involving His Grace to negotiate a small contract that may or may not have been breached. Thank you Amina,” a small smile, and the girl blushed and scurried to her desk on the other side of the drafty room.
Skyhold was more Sky-holed and having settled in less than a month there was still plenty of work to be done. Josephine shivered and wrapped her stole more tightly around herself and reached for the once-warmed cider and sighed.
The scent of the cider, while weak, reminded her of winter mischief in Orlais with Leliana and their friends. Such a fond time, lighthearted and still with the pitfalls of youth and The Game but somehow seeming less deadly at the time.
She envied that past self for a moment, sighed, and took a sip. The cider was nearly cold, and she longed for the more pungent scent of ginger and cardamom that was absent. Leliana had made the best cider of the group. Expertly blending the spices and picking the best of the tart ciders to be had.
A sigh escaped her.
“Oh Josie it cannot be so bad,” the soft lilting voice said near her right shoulder and causing her to nearly start and slosh the cider.
“Leliana you should make some noise please,” she protested.
That earned her one of Leliana's rare and very genuine smiles. She moved over to stand beside her long-time friend and gave her a frank look. “You are working yourself too hard Josie,” concern breaks through the normally controlled voice.
“There is much to do Leliana. Our allies are going to question if the Inquisition is strong enough. Their support means everything right now and we must seem like we have a plan to defeat this Darkspawn magister.” She bent her head down and rubbed her temples.
Leliana reached out and gently touched the other woman’s shoulder in support. “If I did not think you the equal to any challenge I wouldn’t have asked you to be here,” she said softly, care and warmth bleeding into her tone.
Josephine looked up and smiled, it was a shy thing but grateful. “I will not let you down any more than I could my family.” She reached up and squeezed the hand on her shoulder before sitting up straighter.
She reached for the cup and it was only because of who she was that Leliana caught the near frown as her friend sipped the cold cider.
That needs to be corrected, Leliana thought to herself.
Her affection for the bright Ambassador had grown into something a bit more and she thought Josephine might feel the same
She smiled to herself as an idea blossomed.
Her agents and Dorian noted that Sister Nightingale seemed to have a smile hoovering at the shadowed edges of her lips.
“About time she acknowledged it,” Dorian whispered to himself with a smirk and went back to studying a terribly incorrect book on the history of Tevinter’s dragon cults and wondering if he would get the courage to approach the Inquisitor about his own feelings.
Skyhold had quieted down and the fire in the fireplace was banked down. Josephine gave up trying to read the letter having been stuck on the titles for the last ten minutes. Reading and re-reading the words without seeing them.
She lit a new candle from the one almost out and collected the more sensitive of her papers and left her office for her little room above the garden. The scent of rosemary and Andraste’s grace eased the tension in her shoulders. She took a moment to breathe deeply of the herbs and woodsy scents.
A scuff of a boot behind her but she didn’t startled. She assumed it to be one of the guards making their rounds.
Then a different scent wafted to her and she turned.
Leliana stood behind her, her cowl down and the glorious red hair muted by the faint moonlight and shadows. The expression on her face was soft, a smile gracing it openly.
In her hands were a couple of mugs, steaming, and the scent of sharp ginger, earthly cardamon, and tart apples perfumed the air between them.
“I remember your fondness for this when we were in school together,” Leliana spoke and moved closer.
“You always made the best,” Josephine whispered. The moment calls for softness.
“I would like something to talk about other than war councils and spies,” Leliana said, taking a step closer. Asking for something but willing to be denied it.
Josephine said nothing but turned and took the quick two steps to her door and waved Leliana to follow.
Maybe one of Leliana’s agents had alerted the housekeeping staff or maybe Josephine’s own assistant had said something. The room was cozy, the fire having been built up recently. A light meal of soup, crusty bread, and a bottle of wine.
Josephine walked to the table and picked up the wine. She thanked the Maker, whoever had picked at picked a lovely Antivan wine her father had sent to her.
She turned and beamed at Leliana displaying the bottle. “This wine is best shared with friends as Papa always says.”
“Then it is well and good there is food enough for two,” Leliana said with a laugh. She had changed into something besides her normal armor. A loose linen blouse with a grey lavender waistcoat and a light scarf. Her hair was unbound and mischief danced in her eyes.
Josephine laughed herself and moved behind a changing screen. She stripped off her formal day wear. Warm trousers and a tunic slid over the skin. The sea green color glowed against her warm skin as she stepped around.
The cider had perfumed the air and both women were transported back in time mentally.
“Do you remember the night Francesca saw Emil? All she could talk about was his ‘hair of warm brown and the gold of his eyes that the Maker must have painted himself to be so perfect’,” Lelian’s voice had slipped into a perfect imitation of the long-ago friend so much that Josephine near choked on the sip of cider.
“And that Elisa Maria had the same eyes for him. They competed for a season never knowing that Melisandre had already stolen the prize,” Josephine giggled, her eyes sparking with memory and warm humor.
They settled into the overstuffed chairs near the fire. As the wine and cider were drunk the tension in Josephine lifted. She recounted the latest adventure of her younger sister with the pride and exasperation of an elder sibling.
At some point, Josephine went to open another bottle of wine and Leliana laughed and slipped out of the room to get more cider.
On a whim, Josephine opened the chest at the end of her bed and pulled out blankets and pillows. She piled them in front of the fire and then pulled the pillow from her bed. She arranged things into a comfortable nest.
A noise outside heralded Leliana’s return and Josephine gasped in delight. Her friend had secured a basket that she’d stuffed with some cheese, fruits, and more of the spiced cider in a clay carafe to keep it warm.
“Just like many evenings in our dorm,” Leliana expressed with delight.
Josephine felt her cheeks warm seeing the joy on her friend’s face. “I think we both deserve to relax,” she insisted and that earned her another smile as Leliana settled near her amidst the blankets and the pillows.
She passed a mug of freshly warmed cider and Josephine let the scent take the last of her troubles off her shoulders and sighed. “Once again you know how to spice it just right,” and reached out and rubbed the arm that was nearest her.
They spoke of nothing in particular. Leliana scoffed at the latest fashion faux pas a lesser marquess had shown in the main hall. “A truly hideous shade of pink for her. It did not compliment her companions at all,” she said with a sniff.
“She wants the Inquisition to exclusively buy their grain from her but the news from merchants that border her lands say that they weight the bags and more often the quality is poor,” Josephine responded indignantly.
“I already have agents in place to investigate. Anyone with a taste that bad has something to hide,” Leliana smirked as she said it and Josephine giggled again.
“That was always your excuse to investigate someone as you became a better bard,” Josephine exclaimed.
“And was I ever wrong?”
“That one time when that boy from Fereldan arrived, Byron, I think, and you were sure he was up to no good. Turns ou…” she was interrupted as a small pillow harmlessly hit her nose and she dissolved into a giggle and Leliana aimed another pillow at her.
“That doesn’t count!” the other woman said in mock seriousness.
“You had the others convinced he must certainly be a spy, but it was just he came from a very poor branch of a Bann’s family, and they were hoping to fin…” another pillow to the face and a growl from the normally stoic spymaster was too much.
Ginger and cardamon and tart apples had flooded her senses, and she dissolved into breathless giggles. Leliana couldn’t resist and began to laugh as well.
Both women laughed so hard they leaned in to offer and take support of the other.
Josephine wiped a tear from her eye and looked at Leliana and was once again struck by her friend's beauty. Despite the hardening of her heart for a time whatever was happening between the spy master and the Inquisitor seemed to be making her friend re-think some of her actions of late. A pensive line had formed on her brow more often of late that was absent in the moment. A wild impulse and Josephine found herself leaning forward and leaving a soft, chaste kiss, on the spymaster’s forehead.
Leliana paused, still, and returned the look that Josephine gave her.
A moment between them, a question and answer. They leaned forward and touched lips, soft and asking for nothing more than acceptance.
When they parted Leliana’s expression had softened to one Josephine recalled from similar evenings in the past. “Are you sure,” the former bard asked in her lilting voice.
“I have been for a long time,” Josephine murmured a spark reflecting in her deep brown eyes. “For this evening if nothing else.”
Ginger, cardamom, and tart apple perfumed the air along with wood and candle smoke. Memories of years gone by were refreshed and new ones created as both women embraced and once again they kissed, deeper and more passionate this time.
Kestral leaned against the stone, lingering in the shadows of the morning and watching Josephine and Leliana exchange words as the latter escorted the Ambassador to her desk.
Each woman had a mug that wafted a spicy scent into the air, but he was mostly taken with the gentle touch that lingered from Leliana on Josephine’s arm. Tender and sweet.
He smiled to himself but was also chagrined at having lost a silver penny to Varric.
Let them have some softness while the world spins to hell, he thought slipping further into the shadows as the two women shared a kiss before Josephine settled into her work.