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Cassandra Pentaghast allowed a brief nod as she passed a dwarven guardsman standing at attention outside a doorway in Skyhold’s main hall. With a bold stride, she came before the entrance to the diplomatic office. Opposite the Inquisition guardsman in their utilitarian armor was positioned an Orlesian attendant in silk finery and wearing a mustard yellow mask, complete with a checker-boarded quadrant on the top left. To her- no such nod was given.
Cassandra wordlessly made her way past the Main Hall facing doors and into the small antechamber preceding the actual ambassadorial quarter. She stopped, listening to what must (in her mind) be the end of an interminable conversation between Ambassador Montilyet and Lord Gevart of Val Chevin.
“Of course, your Grace, we-“
Muffled umbrage followed in theatrical fashion.
“Yes, I can assure you the Inquisitor-“
The door burst open, Cassandra’s quick instincts beckoned her to swiftly step aside as the positively festooned Orlesian Lord stormed out, a great wagging mustache ensuring none could mistake his anger regardless of the oddly cheerful mask on his face. Cassandra was sure he made an actual “Harrumph” as he passed by her.
In a fading voice, Josephine’s words landed impotently, “-that the Inquisitor takes such charges seriously and…” The Antivan sighed. Her shoulders fell, eyes closed for a moment, and she took three deep breaths in succession. Hands squeezed together, and only after suitably composed, did she glance at the now emerging Cassandra.
“Oh?! You bore witness to that display.” Josephine gave a slight apologetic shrug. “Forgive me, but I do expect his Grace’s bark will prove more than his bite. It was a nonsensical accusation anyway, and he can now brag to his circles he lambasted me- that might be enough to assuage him. Such is life, I am sure you understand, Lady Pentaghast.”
Cassandra had a look of disgust on her face, as if the very notion of taking such treatment and spinning it as positive offended her. “An Orlesian Count, bull-rush me? Never. And- just Cassandra. As always. If I must have a title let it be something I earned; Seeker or Right Hand. I don’t take pride in my birth cloth.”
Josephine, who did take a real pride in her family name and nobility, changed the subject. Cassandra was in a foul mood, and bluntness typically followed. No need to point out the man was actually a self-styled Duke- Orlesian titles were like that. She let it go, as Cassandra would inevitably apologize in her own unique, but meaningful, way. For now? Business came first.
“Fair enough, Cassandra. You wanted to see me for what I must imagine is the same reason I hoped to see you. If you might walk with me to the gates? I need to meet personally with Madam de Fer and the Inquisitor, ideally before they enter the hall proper. Political matters.”
Cassandra, already feeling a small amount of guilt for being brash agreed, and besides, she never cared for Josephine’s office. It felt too much akin to the rooms she was tutored in as a child.
The two walked at a fair pace, Josephine content to weave her way through the busy working throngs of Skyhold with a surprising amount of agile poise; making Cassandra feel somewhat blundering by comparison. It was a different sort of atmosphere than the one she engendered among the lower ranks. Cassandra was respected, even recruits had a not-wrong belief she cared for their well-being, but Josephine received a different reception to Cassandra’s perceptive eyes.
She was always, “Our Lady Ambassador.“ And everyone took for granted that not only their needs, but even their wants, were always on her agenda. People knew not to interrupt her, being much too busy for distractions, but she took the unrestrained moments of admiration by Inquisition rank and file in stride, giving a controlled, but still warm, smile to any cry of “Josie!” from those who spotted her. That Josephine herself considered “Josie” the sole provenance of dear friends and family only, was not shown outwardly in these moments. And yet Cassandra ultimately preferred her own reception, as she could perceive that for all the adoration, one could tell Skyhold’s denizens didn’t quite understand what Josephine actually did. And frankly, for that matter, Cassandra felt the same at times. The colorful cheerfulness might breed resentment if times grew worse, or so she thought.
Out of the main hall, and stepping into the garden, Josephine began in her sing-song Antivan lilt, gesticulating and conversing half to Cassandra and half to herself. It was never clear which was which.
“Cassandra, I hesitate to even ask as I know the answer, but there is a rumor that is causing more than the usual carping by nobles in the Dales."
“Dalish… nobles?” Cassandra had a quizzical expression.
“Oh, do not call them that!” Josephine took a moment to smirk. “Not if one wishes to avoid a thrown handkerchief in trumped up umbrage. Though I do believe I have heard the most amusing of jests on this matter, but I cannot recall from whom. Perhaps in the Inquisition? Hmm.” She covered her mouth, chittering and then restored her decorum as she continued her quick step, with a pace of speech that made Cassandra consider reducing Josephine’s prodigious coffee consumption.
“As I was saying, forgive me, a very absurd rumor exists, and I would ignore it as the inevitably of politics, but the voices pushing it, and more than this -believing it-requires a soft denial by us.”
“Rumors give something for that crowd to do.” Cassandra volunteered, uncharacteristically meekly, as the pair made a corner turn, passing an elven woman, Elan Ve’mal, supervising the pruning of various herbs to her staff. Finding firmer ground in this discussion after a moment, Cassandra kept going.
“I knew Suledin Keep would invite problems. Too many chances to step on too many slippered feet. Very unlike Griffon Wing Keep where we have room to stretch. Or even in that… Ferelden keep in Crestwood.”
“You mean- dump. It is Ferelden after all. We can say that. Cullen isn’t within ear shot. But I sympathize with your point, it’s a difficult region. Our chief administrator in the province, Edouard, is a good man with an impossible task it seems.” Josephine noticed the uncertainty in Cassandra’s eyes. “Apologies, you might know him as Baron Desjardins. A dear friend of the family and so I can wholeheartedly vouch for him, but… alas, the region is vast, and the- sensitivity of the area is like so much kindling. Many local nobles already fear we are destabilizing the Dales.”
“As opposed to the Red Templars?” Cassandra hated babying that crowd. “Absurd people to worry about us.”
Josephine sighed, “Be that as it may, it’s how they feel, and it’s an opinion genuinely held. We get nowhere mocking them.”
“They should be mocked.”
With a pointed tone, Josephine gestured broadly as she spoke, “And the Black Divine should recognize the supremacy of the Sunburst Throne, Cassandra. But he won’t. Regardless of what should be, we must operate in what is.”
Ah, Cassandra thought, there’s that rare bit of fire in the Antivan. Buried deep, but it’s not entirely worn away by Orlesian finishing schools. Admittedly Cassandra’s first thought, as Josephine continued a circuitous route through the gardens was, Maker, the woman walks quickly, and talks faster.
A ginger haired elven woman, bee-lining as if knowing Josephine’s usual walking route, intercepted the pair, a leather folder in hand, parchment peaking out. All without stopping, Josephine warmly exclaimed, “Thank you, Charter. My office will have this reviewed and a memorandum sent this evening.” Josephine focused her eyes in thought as Charter kept pace in this impromptu trio, used to Josephine’s habit on these walks.
“Ah! Yes. Here!” Josephine drew a hand into a satchel and withdrew two small packages, each with a minute red bow, and a stamp of heraldry.
“For me?" Asked Charter, her usual frightening intensity and concentration receding in favor of hopeful optimism.
“Yes, and one for our dear Seneschal. And be sure she has it, not a… nug or crow or whatever else she keeps in that veritable menagerie of hers.” Josephine smiled, with a hint of pride. “They just arrived this morning. Petit fours from my personal favorite patisserie in Val Royeaux.” Josephine, a true lover of giving gifts, led Cassandra onward with a self-satisfaction bordering on smugness as Charter began to unwrap and eat hers with pleasure in the garden. “Enjoy,” She called behind her.
“And I don’t get one?” Cassandra asked with a tone that was playful, even as she truly did desire one. “I know you have more.”
“What would make you assume that?” Came a coy reply.
“Your sweet tooth is absurd, you know? It’s common knowledge.”
“A sweet tooth for the sweetest Lady.” Josephine laughed in one of her moments of self-deprecation, fully aware of how she stood out from the grim and serious nature of so much of the Inquisition, her hues of gold and blue bringing her own little ray of sunshine. Well… she admitted to herself, that is when she wasn’t exercising a cunning and political ruthlessness that was sharper and harsher than any blow Cassandra or Cullen might swung with their swords.
Only yesterday, Cullen needed to shake his head in disbelief at how swiftly Josephine and Leliana went from considering a quite cynical coup in a small Free Marcher principality- to laughing at a new fashion making the rounds in Nevarra. It felt… wrong. Indeed, the continued efforts on Josephine’s part to cultivate her image as the Inquisition’s “heart” was for herself as much as anyone, a counterbalance to who she increasingly felt she was and worried others saw her as.
When the pair stepped down into the courtyard, minding the scaffolding as workers addressed the never ending need for repairs, Josephine transitioned to her purpose. She kept her voice low as they walked past those sitting along the outside of The Herald’s Rest; including a lean but muscled mercenary who sketched the courtyard on parchment as a trans woman leaned against them, smiling, her book in hand long since forgotten. It was always nice, Josephine thought as she passed by, to see life, actual true life in all of it's color, occur even at the Inquisition's center of power.
Out of earshot, Josephine resumed. “But come, let’s get to business. As I was noting, rumors are disturbing the nobles of the Dales, whom we need to be cooperative, and worse than this, Lord Gevart is acting as patron to the loudest voices, and he has the ear of the Council of Heralds.”
Here it comes, Cassandra thought, dreading how this might go.
Josephine sighed. “Essentially, although the accounts differ in tone and circumstance, they all portray an Inquisition officer stating, to an assembled meeting of the burghers following a victorious skirmish in a town’s defense: that under our guidance, the Dales will be a place where humans and elves ‘share a common purpose even as they govern their own affairs.’”
“That sounds like what he said- I mean, it matches the- ah- rumors… I mean.” For once, Cassandra lost her sturdiness, and stopped in place, dragging one foot in circles as she worked for words.
“What?” Josephine sputtered.
“Ah.”
“Ah?”
Cassandra’s eyes widened and her brow lost its command.
“Cassandra? It’s not true, tell me it’s not actually true.
Cassandra closed her eyes a moment as she began to speak but had to pause to consider her words.
Josephine preempted her as her own words flooded out at a pace too fast to process, her voice going comically higher. “No. No, Cassandra. Tell me that it’s a misquote at the very least? An error in translation even? I need this. I really do need you to say that. I can probably work with “common purpose.” That’s survivable. Maker, given Marquis Briala’s own speech at Halamshiral with the Empress, it’s not too far from policy even if it’s a stupendously stupid thing for one of our people to say in the Dales of all places.”
“I thought you’d approve the sentiment-“
Josephine’s face showed a flash of anger. “That doesn’t matter! Yes, if I could wave my hands and make men’s hearts better than they are toward the elves, I would. I would do so gladly, but my job is to keep this Inquisition on the best possible footing in this world. And when everyone acts without thinking- I’m the one who has to claw our reputation back because surely, that’s what ‘Josie does.’ Tell me, was that last quote true and how do you know of it?” Josephine panted, feeling somewhat emboldened by one of the few moments she had ever “shown herself,” and while she wouldn’t admit it, it felt really nice to do.
Cassandra shifted her weight, unused to facing Josephine in a mood, and also doing her best to not laugh even as it was terribly serious. An angry Josephine had a vaguely unintended comical aspect that was adorable to the Seeker even if she’d never admit it. And besides, Cassandra preferred Josephine being blunt than her usual diplomatic style.
“Yes. It’s true, and I know because I was there.”
“What??! And you didn’t intervene? I understand not making a public scene out of reprimanding one of our officers-but there were ways to head this off. Do you know what this means? The Inquisition has endorsed a policy that utterlyviolates Orlesian sovereignty!” Josephine worked herself up further. “It will seem to have endorsed a position on the Dales more radical than any Halamshiral rebel band, and does so with profound unseriousness!”
That was too far, and not as amusing, Cassandra thought, now taking umbrage at Josephine’s rising tone and panic. “I had been on that field of combat just an hour previously, Josephine, and if a man I fought beside against monsters -that you cannot even begin to imagine- got a little carried away in what he thought this Inquisition could do… so be it. It’s only words, not actions. I don’t see why we need to act like a stricken dog each time someone says something without running it by you.”
“Because that’s precisely my job! It’s not mere window dressing. If elves get excited about this in Val Royeaux’s Alienage… how well do you imagine that might go? How many deaths? We cannot simply act as if we are peasants sharing gossip at a market. Our words can cause harm, we must be careful- always. Raising hopes that you cannot actually provide for is cruel.”
Cassandra glared. “You weren’t on the field that day, or any day for that matter. Do we sit silent and wait to hear from you on all things? How often do your worst case scenarios not come to pass and serve as an excuse to always not do anything?I don’t have a cause in the Dales. That history means nothing to me, but it did to an officer under my charge and I won’t stand for him being slandered.”
Josephine’ eyes flashed, then wavered, hurt at the accusation of cowardice.
Cassandra paused, “That was unfair, I stand by my point but you don’t need to win any worth at arms. You- you win enough battles in other ways to have a say.”
“Thank you.” If Josephine believed, as she had oft stated, that it was important for the Inquisition’s leadership to have frank discussions on matters of consequence, one could not take momentary flares of passion as true grievances. She was always quick to forgive. “I appreciate that, and you were in a difficult position, perhaps there was no stopping it that day. You openly contradicting an officer is not a reasonable expectation. Apologies for my own conduct.” Josephine smiled, her sign it was alright.
Josephine sat down on a stone carved bench. She gazed up at the central keep, the sun catching the stained glass. A long breath as she pondered for a moment.
“Still, I want it made clear that when a human thinks they’re making matters better for elves via rhetorical flights of fancy,” Cassandra began to open her mouth as Josephine kept talking aloud as she considered matters, “ -and when they cannot actually back up words with power, it harms everyone. We have to publicly reprimand, even if we don’t remove. Harsh, I admit sadly, but we have the lives of many to look after.”
“Not a human.”
“Pardon?”
“The officer- he was an elf. You-assumed he was human.”
“No. You said he was human, and I went from there.” Replied Josephine, her voice higher in tone and less sure.
Cassandra shook her head. “You heard “officer” and you thought ‘human.’”
“But- anyone would assume that- reasonably-”Josephine caught her tongue in her mouth. “Cassandra, I-.” A growing look of both denial and mortification spread on her face. “No, I don’t mean-You know me. I’m usually better than this. About elves, you know I want better for them. Their plight moves me, and I make a point of giving courtesy that goes beyond what is socially acceptable. I even had an elven nanny for a time as a child and… Oh... Maker that sounds evenworse.” Josephine’s head slumped.
Cassandra sat down alongside Josephine.
“Josephine, I know, and I’m not one to talk on this matter as I’ve had to apologize more than once. Which you know I so enjoy. But listen to me, as a friend. You’ve got room to grow, and that’s fine, so long as you let yourself grow- which means knowing where you need to do better. It’s not different than learning how to fight, you have to take your faults head on.”
Cassandra gave Josephine a soldierly pat on the back, which took Josephine off guard at its force as she continued on.
“These are strange days. Things we believed as children take on- how do you say… a new hue in the light of day, that’s what we say in Nevarra. It doesn’t translate that well. And this Inquisition examines this new light with its unflinching eye.”
Cassandra pointed to the eye insignia on her breastplate for emphasis. “And if you struggle at times to meet this bizarre changing world, can you truly blame an elf, standing in a homeland of his people, for dreaming of what might be?” Ugh… I sound almost romantic about it.
“Isn’t that what the inquisition was founded to do, Josephine? To solve the problems others refuse to or won’t? To bring our eye close and without flinching at what we see, and then act as we must. Not bowing to fear or favor. Maybe the Dales remain an Orlesian province entirely. Probably. Certainly. Maybe for the best that way. I don’t know. But, is it wrong to look at the fences built all around us, and then push or try to climb over?” Cassandra spoke earnestly, “Don’t punish him. He knows more than us that he erred. And he has to live it each day.”
Josephine nodded along as she listened to Cassandra.
“I cannot believe I’m talking like this but; you have a good heart, Josephine. You mean well and you do well. But you have to accept that you’re learning just as we are all learning. When you gave that sweet to Charter, it was a good deed (and I still want one), but you acted so self-satisfied. As if the skies would sing your praises for being on friendly terms with an elf.”
Cassandra, unused to such conversation, fidgeted as she spoke, but pressed on. “Maker knows I’ve said and will say things that cause problems. I roll my eyes when the Elven Gods come up. I find it all absurd. But, I do try to do better with the men and women here now. The ones who look to us for leadership. Who feel that we as humans can do what’s right. We cannnot take that for granted; that these elves willingly joined the Inquisition. I do not know about Dalish… beliefs, but I do know I'll fight for anyone who fights for me."
Josephine pondered, but the wheels of her mind spun quickly as ever, and after straightening her overcoat, she turned, giving a hug that caught the steely Nevarran off guard, not quite sure how to respond. But Josephine paid that no mind.
Josephine spoke warmly after letting go. “You’re right. Let him be. And I will work on matters about myself. I’ll- figure something out to head this off. With Madam de Fer. It might sting, but I know we can exchange favors to quiet this entire affair, perhaps… yes! Affair. That’s it! We reveal Lord Gevart’s own affair! I had wanted to keep that card in our hand until a later date but… we can play it now. It might, no, it will work. It will certainly keep everyone’s attention at the minimum and that might well be enough for this to die down."
“An affair will surprise Orlesian nobles? Isn’t that their national sport?”
“This one will. And with the right push, we can get the gazettes involved and induce the gossips to wag their tongues. An affair with a Revered Mother will do that.” Josephine said with a grin, her confidence returning. “And the details! Scandalous. I can get Leliana to see it done.”
“Ugh.” Cassandra muttered, standing up, glad to have assisted Josephine but also well past her socialization quota.
A trumpet rang three times in the distance, signaling the return of the Inquisitor and their companions.
“Ah, I’ll need to attend to that. Thank you, sincerely, truly, Cassandra.”
Josephine stood, and reached into her satchel and held out a small, finely wrapped package with red string.
“You’ve earned it.”
Cassandra prepared to take it, extending a hand and-
“Do I get one?” Piercing the moment was the unnerving cadence of Cole, standing mere inches behind the pair, startling both and thoroughly frightening the Antivan.
With a twirl towards the sound lacking any of her former grace, Josephine fell into the hedge to her left in an awkward, shambling fashion, letting out a most undignified yelp as she shrieked in surprise.
Cassandra sighed pointedly.
“Ugh.”