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Beatrice’s mother had first raised the idea of a betrothal with her when she was fifteen. There had been prior discussions but as the youngest in her family, they had not borne fruit by the time she was nearing her majority. The next day she had elected to join the family business by claiming a berth on the Seawall and the idea had not been repeated. At least, not in her hearing.
She had rather…not forgotten but it had not been a pressing matter. After the conclave, it had felt like an impossibility. After becoming Inquisitor, it had become a liability. Yet, after Josephine the idea had grown into a lovely dream. A dream which she had kept to herself.
Now, so close to home again…perhaps…
“My love?” Beatrice startled. She looked away from the double walls of Ostwick that were rising higher and higher on the horizon. “The captain says we are not far off now. He’ll have a few men assist us with the luggage when we dock.”
Before she could reply, a larger swell rattled the decks and she stumbled. Beatrice reached out and barely realised she had reached with a hand that was no longer there before a strong arm looped around her waist. Josephine held her until her feet were beneath her again before letting go. Her love fussed over the creased shirt and slightly sagging waistcoat. Fondness rippled like a gentle wave lapping at the shore.
“Some sailor I am,” Beatrice laughed. Josephine straightened the collar of her shirt before looking up to meet her gaze. She could see her own fondness reflected back at her and the warmth of Josephine’s hands was a welcome balm.
“Give it time. You are still recovering my love.” Beatrice sighed but nodded. Her arm came up to rest around Josephine’s waist. She leaned against the rail and watched the walls grow higher still.
“It has been three years since I have been home,” she murmured. “We wrote often but…”
“It is not the same.”
“No. Or perhaps, it is more I am not the same person who left. I worry-” She cut herself off. Josephine hummed lightly. The salt spray stung at her eyes and she closed them for a moment. A hand brushed against the small of her back beneath her cloak before settling against her waist as Josephine mirrored her hold.
“I have not had the pleasure of making their acquaintance but their support over the years has been ceaseless. Furthermore, their replies to my letters during your convalescence were most kind.” Beatrice opened her eyes. Josephine’s expression matched her soothing tone and the knot of worry in her chest started to unravel.
“I’ll stop trying to borrow trouble.” She breathed in deeply and turned her attention back to the approaching city. Josephine did not let go of her waist. The contact soothed her further still till the sick feeling in the back of her throat started to subside and die.
Around them the ship started to turn and approach the vast docks. As the ship was not of Ostwick origin, they would be docked in the outer harbour which thankfully was not far now. She could see the statues of previous Banns waiting to welcome them with their suspicious gazes. When they grew closer still, she saw a group of carts and carriages waiting at one end of the harbour.
Beatrice felt the ship turn to dock near the carriages. She took another look and a familiar crest grew more and more visible. On land, dockhands were catching the thrown lines but she did not tear her gaze away from the carriages. A door opened and an older woman was helped down. “I think…” She began to say until the woman looked up and their eyes met. “Mother!” Amelie Trevelyan, dark hair streaked with white, straightened and waved a handkerchief. Beatrice watched her mother leave her entourage to scramble in her footsteps. She could feel Josephine’s hidden laughter rattle against her ribs when her father, Aelfred, had to dash out of the carriage to chase after her mother.
“I think they are glad to see you my love.”
“I think so too!” Beatrice tore her gaze away from her mother to smile at her partner. “I’ll never bet against you my love.”
“I shall be sure to remind you of that the next time we play Wicked Grace.” Beatrice could not help but laugh. The jolt of the ship coming to a stop almost took her off her feet again but Josephine kept a steady hold on her. She looked down to see her mother waiting impatiently by where the gangplank would be set.
Beatrice felt like she had when she stood too close to Dorian during battle. A hum was in the air that vibrated with potential. When the gangplank was lowered, Josephine’s hand retracted and it lightly pushed at the small of her back. “Go, I shall catch up in a moment.” Beatrice squeezed Josephine’s waist before detaching herself with a quick kiss to her forehead.
Then, she rushed down off the ship and into her mother’s arms. Land swayed beneath her feet but Amelie Trevelyan did not let her fall. She was sure she was crying but she couldn’t quite tell until her mother started dabbing at her cheeks with the monogrammed handkerchief.
“Mother,” she warbled trying to dodge the wrinkled cloth as though she were a small child again. Amelie did not let go and instead embraced her again. A second pair of arms joined them and her father’s beard scratched against her cheek when he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She could not hold him back, not fully, but her half-arm pressed into his side nonetheless.
They stayed like that for a few minutes. Then, her parents peeled themselves away though they only took a step back. They looked older than they had when she had last seen them. More white than dark in their hair, deeper wrinkles and a slightly frailer edge. Had it been only three years?
Her mother’s gaze darted over her and rested on her wounded arm. She could see the slight quiver to her lips. Her mother’s hand reached out before resting gently on her shoulder.
“Are you healing well?”
“As well as I can. The healers say it was well-done for a battlefield amputation.” Her mother nodded and sniffed a little.
“Yes, your Lady Montilyet reported as much. I am glad you took the time to heal before returning,” her father added, his deep voice smooth and steady. She turned her gaze to him and he rested his own hand just below her mother’s. “We are glad you’ve come home little bee.”
“I missed you too. Are you both well? No one has…?”
“We are. Our ties with the local Chantry have never been stronger and your intervention on behalf of your cousin Osher helped to soothe any fragile egos.” Her mother hastened to reassure her. Beatrice nodded. She had known Josephine kept an eye on her family for her but it was one thing to be told and another entirely to see it for herself.
Her mother’s eyes lifted to rest over her shoulder and a curious expression crossed her face. Beatrice half turned and saw Josephine approach carefully. She stepped away from her parents, letting their hands slip off her arm, and reached out a hand to her love. Josephine took it and gracefully came to a stop next to her.
“Mother, father, this is my partner the Lady Josephine Montilyet. She is most dear to me.” The curious expression on her mother’s face slipped away but it was not entirely gone.
“Lord Trevelyan, Lady Trevelyan. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.” Josephine executed a perfect half-bow. Both her parents returned the gesture almost by rote.
“As are we,” her father replied. He too had a curious look in his eyes. It was not quite assessing but almost as though they had the final piece to a puzzle they had been assembling for some time. Beatrice tried not to worry as they all descended into polite small talk. She was not quite able to succeed when Josephine commented,
“I must admit my lady I am amazed to see how similar Beatrice looks to you.” Her mother laughed and it wasn’t the normal polite laugh she gave to visiting acquaintances. Beatrice’s suspicion rose further.
“I find I must say much the same to yourself Lady Montilyet.” Josephine paused, her hand in Beatrice’s tightened its’ grip by a hair.
“I did not know you had met my mother?” Josephine’s polite tone of confusion was not feigned.
“It was a recent acquaintanceship. I believe not long before you left Val Royeaux.” Her mother took them both in, eyes flicking down to see their joined hands. Beatrice wavered a little on the spot, still unsteady. Josephine shifted next to her, ready to support if needed. Amelie frowned. “Beatrice…”
“I’ll be fine when I’ve rested Mother. Don’t worry.”
“Come now little bee. We can continue to gossip in the carriage.” Her father’s voice rumbled and Josephine was quick to usher her towards the shaded shelter. Her lover did not even comment on the name though she was sure Josephine had filed it away to be brought out at a later date. Behind them, her mother barked orders and sent her entourage of various footmen running to gather their luggage.
In no time at all, they were on their way. Her parents fussed gently but updated her on all her various siblings and nephews and nieces and cousins. The rest of her family were apparently waiting eagerly either back at the house or for visiting hours to be announced. She tried her best to include Josephine in the conversation and it turned out her Mother had a wealth of information on the ways their various networks had interacted over the years.
It was surprisingly enmeshed. She’d known avenues of communication had opened. Yvette had rather given the game away last year when she’d visited Skyhold and had chattered away about the portrait commissions she had received from Ostwick. But to hear how many of Josephine’s contacts had made deals with her various family members…
She should talk to Josephine later, she decided. When they were settled and the grime of the journey was washed away, they would hold a little war council of two and plan their investigation.
Beatrice glanced over at Josephine and saw a layer of interest there. Her lover caught her gaze and nodded minutely. Then, Josephine seamlessly rejoined the conversation.
“…and Beatrice was telling me that you have a large stables complex and training ring?”
“Finest in Ostwick!” Aelfred declared proudly. “We’re passing them now.” He drew back a curtain and Josephine leaned over Beatrice to peer out of the window. Through the drawn curtain, the stables were soon passed and then there was a glimpse of the house as the carriages turned to start their approach.
“They are marvellous, my lord.” Josephine leaned back into her seat. Beatrice re-took her hand in her own.
“We’re almost at the house, my love,” Beatrice murmured. Josephine squeezed her hand. Her mother’s curious look returned. “Mother, what is…?”
“In a moment Beatrice.” Amelie cut off the question before it could be fully formed. Before she could question again, the carriage came to a stop and they all disembarked. Her mother ushered them both up the stairs and into the reception hall. It was curiously devoid of other people. Beatrice would have thought her siblings Evelyn, Maxwell and Robert would have appeared by now. So where was everyone?
A door creaked to their left. Beatrice half-turned and froze. Out of the green drawing room, woman who looked remarkably like an older Josephine stepped out. The hand in hers grew lax.
“…Mama?” The woman smiled and Josephine threw herself across the final few steps. Gabrielle Montilyet laughed and another man slipped out of the drawing room. Josephine had his eyes. “Papa!”
The little family embraced and oh, how happy Josephine looked! She was laughing and smiling in a way that had become rare the last few months. Beatrice glanced away to see her own parent’s smug looks. She sidled up to her mother.
“How long had you planned this for?” She murmured, careful not to disturb the reunion. Her mother preened like a peacock on full display.
“Oh, just a few months. Gabrielle and I have been writing for years now so when we knew you were coming home we exchanged information. I must say, your partner has a most sensible mother.”
“Beatrice!” Her head snapped around to face Josephine. Her lover was smiling, still a bit tearful, but holding out her hand. She strode over and was soon engulfed by the various Montilyets’.
“Apologies for surprising you! I know meeting the parents can be stressful,” Yves Montilyet boomed.
“Oh, Yves, we talked about this-” Gabrielle Montilyet heaved a sigh.
“It is quite alright sir. Less time for worrying?” Beatrice swallowed nervously. Yves’ eyes twinkled merrily as he laughed again.
“Ah, my little Josefina said you were a charmer-”
“Papa!”
“And I see she was not wrong! Your father was also telling me of your horsemanship. Tell me, do you enjoy the hunt?”
Beatrice, who knew the trophies from the various dragons she had slain were lining the wall of houses across Thedas, nodded. Before Yves could speak again, his wife laid a gentle hand on his forearm. He immediately turned his gaze to her and his beaming smile grew softer.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Beatrice. Josephine writes of you often and Yvette speaks most highly of you.” The warm compliments were a lance to her weak spot. She knew she was blushing but she tried her best to smile through it.
“I confess much the same. Josephine has often talked about her family and I am most glad to meet you both.” She gave a half bow, knees almost shaky. Josephine’s arm wrapped around her back again. When she rose, she glanced at her partner and was greeted with a soft look.
“Oh Yvette was right, you are quite the pair,” Yves rumbled. Josephine’s soft look turned exasperated.
“Papa, please!”
The gathering continued in much the same way. Beatrice’s siblings appeared from their hiding spots and she was duly passed around for various hugs and kisses. Her nieces and nephews were shyly re-introduced, most of them were too young to remember her before she left.
The Montilyets charmed their way through the evening. Yves switching from describing his artist salons to his hunts with Baron Edouard with ease depending on his conversation partner. Gabrielle and Amelie claimed a chaise longue and Beatrice was suspicious every time she saw their heads leaning together as they plotted Maker only knew what.
In the evening, when she and Josephine had retired to bed, Beatrice could still not shake the image of their families happily dining together. It was a dream that she had thought would never come to pass.
“Beatrice?” A murmured voice broke the silence. She turned her head to see Josephine, eyes wide awake, with a furrowed brow.
“What is it?”
“I…”
“Are you well?” She half rose from the bed but her partner reached out to pull her back down again.
“I am. I wanted to…” Josephine sighed. Beatrice cuddled herself closer. Her lover’s brow smoothed. “Let me start again. Seeing our families together tonight was…it was a joy. I have been wanting to…to ask-”Her lover broke off again.
Was she…?
No!
Maybe?
Beatrice kept her mouth clamped shut. She could not jump to conclusions here. Talking about their families together was a pretty big hint. Although they had been together for nearly three years now so how much of a conclusion could it be-
Josephine’s stuttered voice broke through her thoughts. “These past years have been a joy. We have weathered many trials and I know I can count on you when hard times are present. More than that…seeing you makes any day of mine lighter.”
“Josephine-” Beatrice cut herself off. She could feel her eyes burning to shed tears.
“There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. I…” Josephine breathed in deeply and her hand came up to cradle the side of Beatrice’s face. “I do not want to wait further. My love, Beatrice. Would you do me the great honour of agreeing to become my wife?”
“Yes, yes, of course I will!” Beatrice lunged across the small space between them and Josephine was soon flat on her back. She kissed her fervently and Josephine tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Only when her breath grew short, did she pull back. Josephine was weeping. “You romantic – beautiful – funny – charming – woman!” Each word was punctuated with another quick kiss. Her lover laughed wetly.
“Really?”
“Really. I would be honoured to be your wife. Josephine-” Beatrice had to swallow around her thick throat. “My love, when I have been in my darkest hours, you were there with the light to show me the way. Building a life with you has been such a dream and I want nothing more than the whole world to know I am loved by you.” Those unshed tears started to fall and Josephine laughed through her own weeping.
They embraced, legs curled around each other. In the quiet of the night, the moment was theirs and theirs alone.