#Trea Adaar

[everestv-themuse]

For DA DWC - the creak of leather

Thanks for the prompt! I loved writing this, definitely tried to do something a little different, a little more subdued, and I really like how it came out. Trea Adaar for @dadrunkwriting

Trea flopped on the bed heavily, rubbing at her strained eyes. She couldn’t believe she had had it in her to stare at a map for that long, moving markers centimeters at a time only to move them right back to their original position, repeating the cycle for hours upon hours—

“Herald?” Called a voice, accompanied by a gentle knock.

Trea growled under her breath at the ridiculous title before dragging herself to answer the door. “Yes? Can I help?”

The servant she faced, still not used to the juxtaposition of her size and the politeness in her voice, stammered for a moment before offering up the large package in his hands. “This came for you. Um, with this note attached.”

“Thank you,” Trea said with a smile as she accepted the scrap of paper and the wrapped object. Once it fell completely in her hands, however, her smile faltered. She recognized it by its weight. Covered or not, simply holding it struck her with a familiarity that rooted itself in her very core. She barely registered the servant still fidgeting in the doorway.

“Um. The note was attached with twine before. Before, uh, Sister Nightingale read it, that is. As she reads all the correspondence coming into Haven. For security purposes, of course. I understand no one else has read it, and that no one removed the wrapping. Not even Sister Nightingale. Speaking of Sister Nightingale, however, she has requested you to come to her tent at your earliest convenience. She would like to speak with you. Shall I inform her that you will be on your way shortly? That is, if you can spare a moment, of course. Then again, this is Sister Nightingale we’re speaking of, and she usually does expect agreement to her requests. But, of course, being the Herald, I doubt she could say much if you were to delay due to another important matter taking up your time. Um. If there was nothing else, I’ll leave you. Thank you for your time, Your Worship.”

Numbly, Trea closed the door and walked to her desk, setting down the package gently and unfolding the note.

Heard your little stint with the humans is gonna be more permanent than we thought.

Tough draw. Wouldn’t trade places with you for much.

Wanted to give this to you in person, but figured that little mountain town couldn’t handle any more horns running around. You understand.

Bet you a pretty sovereign you haven’t been sleeping well without this. You can thank me in a few weeks once this is all over and you’re back with the company again.

Until then, keep your head up and stay out of trouble. Do what you gotta do, play their little game, and come back in one piece.

I really don’t want to have to storm the place just because you landed your ass back in chains. But you know I will if I have to.

Just remember—

Maraas kata

Shokrakar

Trea sniffed, her chest filled with a dull ache as she read over the familiar handwriting. And read it again. Her fingers traced the last three words. She swallowed hard, shook her head, and put the note to the side.

Working quickly, she unwrapped the package before her, and held the bare item in her hands. It was a sheathed two-handed sword. Exactly the one she was expecting. Old and faded and rubbed thin in some places, the leather of the scabbard creaked as she brought out the sword and examined the blade. Every little nick was exactly where she remembered them being, every scratch on the metal and every patch of discoloration. She dragged a finger along the edge and it came away clean, the skin unbroken by the blade long left dull over the years.

She remembered when the sword was so intimidating to hold as a child, remembered when the mere mention of training with it made her sore muscles ache in protest. But she also remembered the first time she noticed the subtle grooves in the grip, the ones perfectly matching the shapes of her fingers. She remembered when she came to think of that sword as hers, even as it lay under her mother’s bed. She remembered when she started to gravitate to it, when she started to realize its true power, and that suddenly it wasn’t a bringer of punishment, but the only source of protection she truly had. She remembered that final night, she remembered the way she held onto that scabbard for dear life, remembered the fleeting intent to fight if her mother had moved forward to take it from her. Because she knew that keeping that sword in her hands was the only way she felt safe enough to stand her ground, safe enough to run away.

She stared at her blurry reflection in the blade for a moment, identifying only a pointed, wavering shape.

She sheathed the sword and walked over to place it under her bed.

She picked up the note, folded it gingerly, and slipped into her jacket, pressed securely against her chest.

She took a deep breath and walked out the door, heading for the spymaster’s tent.

[everestv-themuse]

"Satin in candlelight" for any of your characters for the DWC?

Thanks for the prompts! Here’s some coming home fluff for Trea Adaar x Josephine Montilyet for @contreparry @honestly-wilde @talesfromthefade @dadrunkwriting

Trea felt like collapsing and she could see the same sentiment in her companions as they each settled their mounts in their stables. The stars were bright above their heads and the cool night breeze did little to ease the sweat from their brows. They murmured soft ‘goodnights’ as they went their separate ways and then Trea drudged up to her quarters alone.

Making her way up the several flights of stairs took more out of her than she was expecting and she briefly entertained the idea of simply sleeping there on the landing. But after nudging the bedroom door open as quietly as possible and ascending the final flight of stairs, the welcome she was greeted with was more than worth the sore muscles.

Before her, Josephine sat peacefully on the bed, reading by candlelight. A fire crackled in the hearth, everything was still, and Trea couldn’t deny the allure of the softness of the scene. Cast in the flickering glow, Josephine’s hair, her cheek, her skin against the satin night shift she wore, everything shined and Trea’s chest ached as she smiled.

Josephine looked up at her entrance. “Oh, my love, you’re home!” Her voice, wrapped in a familiar kind of welcoming warmth, was also unmistakably soaked in drowsiness.

“No, no, don’t get up,” Trea hummed as she dropped her pack and slid out of her boots, watching Josephine’s attempt at getting out of bed. “I’ll just be a moment,”

On any other night, Trea might have taken her time freshening up before bed. Removing her pieces of armor with care, scrubbing thoroughly at her skin, giving her sore muscles a chance to relax. But she was impatient to get to bed, to feel Josephine’s embrace after so long without.

After quickly stripping down to just a clean sleep shirt, she all but ran forward to collapse onto her bed. Nuzzling into the sheets before moving to settle in Josephine’s lap, she allowed herself a deep breath of her lover’s scent.

“Did you have an easy journey back?” Josephine asked softly, putting her book away and blowing out the candle before threading her fingers through Trea’s hair.

“It was fine. Just long,” Trea hummed and wrapped her arms around Josephine’s waist. “You didn’t have to stay up for me. I know it’s late,”

“I missed you,” Josephine said simply and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Trea’s lips. “It might also have been a bit selfish. I wanted yours to be the last face I saw before I fell asleep,”

Trea smiled and squeezed Josephine’s middle. “Your wish is my command,”

[everestv-themuse]

"Red wine stained lips" for any of your characters for the DWC?

Thanks for the prompt! This is a scene way before their relationship starts for Trea Adaar & Josephine for @dadrunkwriting

Trea was none too embarrassed to grab the closest serving dish in front of her as soon as it was placed on the table. She had especially requested a hearty meal tonight and looking at the spread with wide eyes, her expectations were certainly exceeded.

“Save some for the rest of us, yeah?” Sera jabbed at her side.

“Sorry,” Trea answered, passing the dish to the elf and quickly accepting the one Cassandra had been offering to her on her other side. “M’hungry,”

“A qunari’s appetite never ceases to impress,” Varric laughed from across the table.

“Funny coming from the dwarf with an almost full plate of potatoes,” Iron Bull said, a smirking arched eyebrow flashing to the dwarf at his side.

In between hurried bites of food, Trea looked up periodically and watched the serving dishes slowly make the rounds. It was hard to ignore the last remaining seat left empty, especially once everyone had finished making their plates and dinner was well underway.

She made sure to finish her mouthful before speaking up. “Leliana, where’s—”

“I was just about to fetch her, Inquisitor,” The spymaster replied without looking up, already taking the napkin from her lap and placing it on her chair as she stood. “She would appreciate your concern, I’m sure.”

The steel in her voice, in every word she seemed to utter in Trea’s presence, was hardly new or surprising. There was an indecipherable look passed between Cassandra and Leliana, Leliana made her way to Josephine’s office without another word, and Trea ducked her head to avoid a pointed glare from the spymaster. Out of the corner of her eye, Trea saw Cassandra shake her head.

“Things are still icy, huh?” Sera murmured, unabashedly turning around in her chair to watch Leliana leave the hall.

“No, it’s not that,” Trea shrugged and continued eating, ears pricked for any sign of approaching footsteps. “She’s just...she’s keeping it professional, you know? Formal. If that’s how she wants to operate, I don’t mind.”

Cassandra scoffed.

“Sure, tough stuff,” Sera bit at her lip. “That’s probably all it is,”

A soft voice, lilted but warm, reached Trea’s ears and she looked up to see Leliana returning with Josephine at her side, the two speaking to each other in hushed tones. Once they would have been able to be overheard, they fell silent with a practiced ease. Trea watched as the ambassador gave the group a polite smile, a vague apology, and settled in her seat between Vivienne and Leliana. Clearly, the spymaster wanted to continue their conversation, but Josephine turned to the mage at her side instead.

“Madame Vivienne, would you be so kind as to pass the wine?”

The enchanter hesitated for a mere moment, tempted to make a teasing remark at the uncharacteristic request, but met the woman’s gaze and handed over the bottle knowingly. “Of course, darling,”

Trea furrowed her eyebrows. She watched as Josephine silently filled her glass, took a long sip, and slowly filled her plate with only a passive interest in what Leliana continued to say. Trea understood the reason for Vivienne’s tact, it wasn’t too hard to notice. Though slight, there was a definite way that Josephine’s shoulders hung too low. Though subtle, it was apparent that she held her fork too loosely. Though still, there was something in her muted gaze that suggested she was steadily travelling miles away from the current moment.

“Hey, you gonna finish that?”

Trea watched as Josephine easily finished her drink and wasted no time in filling another glass. In that moment, the gold of her sleeve flashed and weaved around the silverware in one fluid motion, smooth yet darting, completely undisruptive of the momentum of Leliana’s conversation. And then, without missing a beat, she turned to Vivienne at her engagement in the topic. She followed the volley of discussion with ease, swiveling between Vivienne and Leliana at all the correct moments, but she didn’t say a word. She only sipped at her wine, picked at her food, and occasionally prodded at her temples.

“Trea?”

Something tightened in her chest as she watched Josephine. Her hands fidgeted uselessly with her napkin as she struggled with what she could say. Interrupting the conversation would be rude, Josephine was too far to offer a physical gesture of concern. All she could do was watch the ambassador’s mechanical movements, watch as her eyes grew duller in the dim candlelight, watch as her lips grew stained a deeper and deeper red—

“Trea! Hello?”

The Inquisitor jumped at the sudden jab in her side. “Hmm? What?”

“I said, you gonna finish that?” Sera pointed to the portion of bread still untouched on her plate. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your daydreaming over there.”

“I, uh,” Trea blinked, turning between her impatient friend and the plate she had long since abandoned. Then a prickling traveled down her horns. She looked up to meet Josephine’s gaze, her attention suddenly on the unfolding situation, and then Vivienne and Leliana followed suit. Not that Trea could focus on the others suddenly looking at her. She was engrossed in Josephine’s eyes, the look of surprise that flashed across her face, her lips parting slightly, her shoulders stiffening, as if this was the first time she was noticing Trea in the room. A jolt racked the qunari’s chest and she couldn’t look away fast enough. “Sorry. Yeah. You can have it.”

“Thanks,” Sera mumbled, already halfway through the loaf she had taken anyway, and stared critically at her friend’s plate. “What’s wrong? Thought you were starving,”

[everestv-themuse]

Thanks for the prompts, sorry some of these are pretty old now. Also hope you don’t mind my cheating by putting all of these together. Please accept my murky rendition of Trea Adaar x Sera for @joufancyhuh​ @thevikingwoman​ @midnightprelude​ @dadrunkwriting​

“Oh, I, uh,” Sera stammers at the sight suddenly before her, can feel the tips of her ears burn, and she knows she can’t blame the recent heat spell for the red that’s no doubt spreading across her cheeks. She giggles despite herself. “Sorry. Didn’t realize the canteen was that friggin’ full.”

“Please,” Trea just scoffs as she looks down, finding herself completely soaked. Of course I do this the one time she’s not covered head to toe in armor, with only a white shirt to show for it, and now that she’s wet, I can...I can see...Maker’s tits there’s not much left to the imagination now that— what is she doing?! “Don’t be sorry. I was just about to mention the lake we’re coming up to. Race ya!” She cries out as she sheds the last of her weapons, bags, and outer layers, streaking off through the grass in just her underthings. Sera takes a moment to stare, slack-jawed, before scrambling to do the same and catch up.

“Inquisitor! Please, we’re so close to the next— Sera, no, don’t— Sweet Maker,” Cassandra grumbles as she stoops to pick up the discarded items with Vivienne turning away as if blind to the situation, walking off to the shade of a tree off the lake’s shore.

---

“You seem cozy over here,” Sera remarks as she walks over to Vivienne and the rest of the group’s things, rifling through her bags for the apple she knows she stored away for later. “Enjoying the view?”

“Not as much as you are, darling,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Vivienne doesn’t look up, only seems to settle even more against the tree she’s propped up against. “For your sake, I hope you’re merely playing at ignorance instead of the alternative.” Sera doesn’t reply, just sits cross-legged nearby as she eats her snack, a frown settling on her lips. “Fine. If you insist.

“What dreadful hot weather we’re having! It keeps one in a constant state of inelegance, wouldn’t you agree? Why just look at our famed Inquisitor, reduced to splashing around half-naked where anyone can see!” Vivienne’s exaggerated tone fades and Sera glances out at the lake, watching Cassandra and Trea wrestle in the shallows, horns glistening, smile bright, muscles painfully defined. Sera bites her lip. “And you just know she’ll refuse to cover up again on our way back to camp, feigning something or other about needing her clothes to dry. Which, if I recall correctly, was indeed your own doing.”

“Pfft. Whatever.” Sera says through a mouthful of apple. “It’s bleeding hot. What do you expect?”

“While I certainly don’t expect any level of tact, I would suggest it all the same.” Vivienne supplies. “And perhaps just a shred of honesty? To yourself if no one else, let alone the object of your fruitless affection.”

Sera’s eyes narrow but her chest is too jumbled to provide a proper comeback. She tosses her apple core into the grass behind her, nearly missing Vivienne.

“Charming.” The mage drawls. “However, I am curious. Why won’t you just admit it, darling? Wouldn’t it make things simpler? There'd certainly be less risk involved every time you hide your little blush from her gaze. Or perhaps it is because of a certain Ambassador. Feeling threatened, is that it? The two have been spending a lot of time—”

“Piss off!” Sera barks, reaching for Vivienne’s canteen and taking a swig, only to find it warmer than the air around her. She promptly spits it back out onto the grass. “You don’t know anything about anything so stop acting like you do!”

Vivienne finally meets the elf’s gaze and waves her hand with a slight flourish. Suddenly, Sera can feel chunks of ice clinking around the canteen she’s holding. Her voice is softer and it throws Sera off-balance. “I only wish to warn you. I have a feeling you’re facing strong competition and should be aware of it. That is all.”

Sera blinks and stares at Vivienne until the mage closes her eyes and resumes her relaxation. It isn’t long before a loud beckoning interrupts her thoughts.

“Sera, come back in! You’ll dry out!” Trea calls and Sera jerks her head instantly in the direction of the voice.

“Coming!” Standing, she wordlessly hands Vivienne back the canteen and jogs back to the lake.

[everestv-themuse]

"Raindrops on eyelashes" with your Adaar?

Thanks for the prompts! Pre-relationship Trea Adaar & Josephine Montilyet for @contreparry & @dadrunkwriting

“Lady Adaar?” Josephine called out, knocking on the bedchamber door only to have it open on its own at the gesture. Tentatively, she walked in and slowly made her way up the stairs, shivering at the sudden chill in the room. “Lady Adaar, I hope you remember, we were going to go over the...”

Stopping at the top of the stairs, she found herself in an empty room filled with the sound of the raging thunderstorm outside. No fire was laid and one set of balcony doors was thrown wide open. Papers from the Inquisitor’s desk were fluttering around the floor and hugging her arms tightly around her chest against the biting wind, she rushed over to close the doors, making a mental note for the latch to be assessed for damages. She was just grateful the glass didn’t appear—

She froze at the sight before her. There on the balcony was the Inquisitor herself.

Head tipped back, eyes closed, a smile resting on her lips and hands gripping confidently at the stone railing for support, she could very well have been basking in the midday sun. And Josephine couldn’t help but stare.

The image of the Inquisitor in the rain, her imposing stature in complete juxtaposition to the easiness of her posture, the usual hard lines of her muscles suddenly softened and blurred in the storm. To consider it a novel vision would be an understatement. Josephine couldn’t look away.

She had her father to blame for her trained artistic eye. It was almost out of her control, the way Josephine mentally traced the curve of her lips, the flight of her windswept hair, the shine on her soaked skin, the beads of raindrops clinging to her eyelashes. In the span of a breath, the moment seemed frozen in time, even as the storm raged on all around them. It seemed perfect for a painting. If only...

A flash of lightning lit up the sky and she jumped to her senses.

“My Lady! What are you doing out in the rain? You’ll catch your death!”

“Lady Montilyet? I’m sorry, did we arrange—”

“Come inside!” Josephine huffed before darting out only to catch the Inquisitor’s sleeve and drag her back inside. With a great effort, she managed to close the balcony doors and use the perfectly working latch to secure them shut. She let out a breath when she turned back to assess the other woman. “Oh, look at you, you’re soaked! What were you thinking?”

The Inquisitor grinned like a child asked about their favorite toy. “Isn’t it wonderful out? The wind, the rain, the lightning! The thunder that rattles your lungs! It’s beautiful!”

“And it’s just as beautiful to observe from inside, where it’s dry and warm.” Josephine shivered as she glanced around the cold, dark room. “Well, relatively, of course. Regardless.” Fixing her gaze on the woman before her, Josephine’s tone grew firm even if her fingers trembled where they gripped her arms. “I will go and fetch someone to lay a fire and bring up some tea. In the meantime, I expect you to dry off and change clothes. I will not have you collapsing from exposure when there’s so much paperwork you promised to complete.”

“Ah, right!” Trea smiled sheepishly. “We did make arrangements. I must have completely lost track of time...”

***

Once the fire was roaring and steadily warming the room, and Josephine had finished re-organizing the Inquisitor’s desk, she moved to settle on the couch in the center of the room. She poured out two cups of tea from the table in front of her before hesitating.

She reached for the cream, then pulled back. She reached for the sugar, but her hand hovered in the air above the jar. She bit at her lip.

“Oh, did the storm die down?” Trea’s voice sounded behind her and she turned to see the Inquisitor appear from the antechamber, clad in dry clothes and toweling off her mop of short hair.

“I— yes, it appears so.”

Trea walked over and settled on the very far end of the couch. She pointed to the tea tray. “Is one for me?”

“Oh. Yes. I just haven’t prepared them yet. I realize I don’t know how you take your tea,”

“Leave it to me, I’ve become an expert on the both of us.” Trea grinned that same grin from before as she reached for the tray and a spoon. “Two sugars, stir for only a moment, blow just slightly...and here you are, my lady.”

“Thank you,” Josephine said quietly as she accepted the cup, bringing it to her lips slowly as if afraid of shattering a fragile moment. It was perfect, exactly the way she liked it, and immediately she was brought back to the past few nights Trea had visited her office late at night, sharing tea and company.

“You’re welcome,” Trea nodded and if she noticed the slight flush that alighted on Josephine’s cheeks, she said nothing. “And in case you were wondering, that’s one decent helping of cream, four sugars because I can’t help myself, stir thoroughly, and you have my poison. Little more complicated than yours,”

“I’ll try to remember,” Josephine laughed softly and everything seemed worth it to see the way Trea beamed in response.

“So,” the Inquisitor cleared her throat. “Should we get started? I know we have a lot to get through tonight, and I certainly don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

“No, no, I don’t mind. And the paperwork can certainly wait for now,” Josephine waved a dismissive hand before taking another perfect sip of tea. “Let’s just enjoy this for a little while longer. In any case, I’d rather you warm up completely by the fire than overwork yourself at my expense.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady,”

[everestv-themuse]

Thanks for the prompt! I changed it slightly, hope you don’t mind. This is a big moment for Trea and I’ve been mulling over exactly how the scene plays out for a while. Think this is pretty close to her canon, though, so thanks for prompting me! Trea Adaar for @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold​ & @dadrunkwriting​

Trea’s eyes burned as she stared at the ceiling. Everything was quiet, there was a gentle breeze blowing through the window above the bed, she knew if she just glanced over the moon at its peak would greet her. It was time.

Carefully, just as she had practiced the few nights prior, she peeled back the sheets and sat up in bed. She took her time, watching for movements from the other bed, listening for changes in breathing patterns. Nothing. Her eyes had been adjusted to the darkness for hours now, she was confident nothing would surprise her. And yet...

She took a breath, bare feet rooted to the floor, elbows on her knees, head hanging low. What was she waiting for?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She rose and went for her boots, adjusting her ruffled sleeping tunic. She put them on in practiced silence, grabbing for the sword that hung in its sheath with the same movement. She paused. Nothing.

Her feet knew the way, navigating around the soft spots in the wooden floor, avoiding the places with a tendency to creak. She didn’t need to be staring downward so intently, but she felt unable to look anywhere else. She certainly wasn’t about to allow herself permission to look back or take one last glance at the only home she had ever known.

She nudged the door open with barely a breath of movement, and that was it. She was outside. Everything was practically behind her. Now the easy part.

Making her way to the stable, her breaths came out in rushed gasps. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath back there, but now, outside, the cold air hurt when it hit her lungs. Her eyes burned again, but she just gripped the sheathed sword in hand even tighter and kept—

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” A voice sounded behind her and her shoulders tensed. The old bay in the corner of the building lifted her head briefly before hanging it low again, ignoring what seemed to be a start of such a common occurrence.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you? I was just—”

“Don’t.” Her mother all but spat. “And at least turn around and face me when you attempt to lie through your teeth. Or does cowardice truly guide everything you do now?”

Trea obeyed without much protest, turning to see the cold fire bleeding through her mother’s glare. “How long have you known?”

“That you were planning to run away like some insolent child? How long do you think?” Trea’s knuckles were white where she gripped her sword and her mother just scoffed. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you take that, let alone the sack you’ve packed and hidden among the old equipment. I will not have you touch the horse, though.”

Trea winced and stared down at her boots. “I wasn’t going to. I only took what I had—”

“Spare me.” Her mother growled. There was a beat before her voice sounded again, sharper than ever. “Well? You have nothing to say for yourself? Clearly you wanted to steal away in the middle of the night, no better than some—”

“I’m a coward, yeah, I got that the first time you—”

“Do not interrupt, bas!” Head angled down, Trea didn’t see her mother step forward until it was too late. The fist that collided with her jaw hit with a note of familiarity and she almost smiled as the pain bloomed across her cheek. One of my last memories of home, how am I not surprised? “Nothing, is that it? No rage-fueled speech, no threats, no bragging? You won’t even defend yourself? It’s your last chance to try, isn’t it?”

Trea spat out some of the welling blood behind her lip but stayed silent. Everything she had ever wanted to say rushed through her mind, every word of hurt and anger she ever practiced. Suddenly faced with the moment, though, none of them felt right, none of them felt enough. It was all slipping away, she was running out of time, and for the life of her, she couldn’t organize any of it into a coherent sentence. Not one. The sword almost fell from her hand as she let out a breath.

“Well don’t torture yourself just standing there. Get your things and go. If it wasn’t clear before, I’m not about to stop this selfish little tantrum of yours. It isn’t worth it.”

Trea turned and stepped further into the stable, her movements stiff. She got her bag, pulled on her coat, strapped her sword onto her back and pulled the chest strap tight. Her mother hadn’t moved, just watched. She wasn’t sure if it was the returning sting in her eyes playing tricks, or if her mother was actually shaking. It didn’t really matter.

Without a word, Trea walked past and started down the road towards the end of the property, trying to gain some semblance of control of her breathing. Barely a moment had passed when she heard her mother again for the last time.

“If you leave now, you’re not to set foot back here again. You realize that, don’t you?”

Trea sniffed, paused, and then kept moving. Yeah. That was the one thing I hadn’t been planning on all these years.

[everestv-themuse]

Thanks for the prompts, sorry this is pretty long overdue now. Trea Adaar & Iron Bull for @honestly-wilde​ @talesfromthefade​ @goblin-deity​ @dadrunkwriting​

Trea hears footsteps approach and then stop at her corner booth, but she doesn’t bother to look up. The headache blazing behind her shut eyes doesn’t let her. “More of the same, if you could?” She asks, pushing her empty mug toward the edge of the table.

“Really think you need another?” Iron Bull’s gruff voice sounds and Trea winces as he moves to sit down across from her. “Usually stop after two or three with dinner. I’ve counted four rounds now and it’s barely past midday.”

Trea doesn’t think she can find one muscle in her body that doesn’t ache, but Iron Bull’s words only add another weight to her shoulders. She lets go of her temples, tired of keeping her arm propped up, and lets herself slouch fully. Pushing away the plate she’s been picking at, she crosses her arms and rests her head on the table. All the while, the pit that’s been growing heavier in her stomach and turned to licking at her veins, continues to dull her senses until the tavern is reduced to a hollow throb of barely perceivable presence around her.

“Thanks. I’m well aware.”

“Right.”

“Nothing’s wrong, alright? You don’t need to check up on me like some child. I’m fine, I...” Trea sighs as she recognizes Iron Bull’s silence and picks up her head with a jerk. The world swims around her, but just for a moment. The darkness of the tavern snaps into focus faster than she was expecting and she blinks at Iron Bull’s raised eyebrow. “Fine. I don’t know what’s wrong, okay? But it’s nothing probably. I’m just...really tired. Sore. You know how it is, tough training today.”

“Sure, boss.”

“Fucking, Ben-Hassrath.” Trea growls under her breath and rolls her eyes. “Look, I don’t really give a shit if you believe me or not. I’m tired and sore and midday be damned, I’m gonna get a refill.” She pushes herself to her feet after scooching out of the booth. “Do you want anything at least, while you sit there like an ass judging me, or is alcohol suddenly above you?”

“Would you rather have someone else sitting here like an ass, judging you?”

“Please, I shut everybody out. I’m an equal opportunity repressive, after all. Don’t take it too personally now.” She rolls her eyes again, but steps back with a start as Iron Bull suddenly stands from the table too.

“Fine. You don’t want to talk about how alcohol is the only thing that can wash the taste of blood out of your mouth these days? To the one person who knows what it’s like better than anyone here? Your prerogative, Adaar. Meet me outside and we’ll fight about it instead.”

Iron Bull straightens with a confident sway and Trea is all too aware of the way his back foot is placed just so, his whole posture prickling with veiled attentiveness. He thinks I’m gonna punch him right here, right now. Ass.

“I’m tired, Bull.” She responds with gritted teeth and stands her ground, making sure the few inches she has on him is made perfectly clear. She knows by this point that all eyes in the tavern are on them. After all, a fight between the Inquisition’s favorite foreign spy and the Inquisitor herself was surely something to take note of. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, even though she could feel herself start to come alive with just the threat of a fight. Muscle fibers, nerve endings, the thrum of her own faint heartbeat — all slowly succumbing to the buzzing in her ears growing louder and louder. “I’m sore and I just want a—”

Iron Bull slams the mug in her hands back to the table but otherwise makes no other move forward, his expression steeling itself into an even more neutral state. “The red flecks in your eyes say different, Reaver. If that’s even what you are. Standing there shaking, not even enough strength for a simple bar fight, one has to wonder.”

She takes a step forward, she can’t help it, but she can limit herself to just the one at least. “Bull. I’m serious. I’m not—”

“Not what? Not gonna fight me? Not in the mood?” He shakes his head and Trea knows she could handle seeing anger in his eyes, if it was just that, but the disappointment that meets her gaze instead, only makes her fists clench even more tightly at her sides. “You’re not sore, you’re not tired, you’re weak. A true Reaver would see a fight as an opportunity to replenish themselves. I’m right here, a ready opponent. Hit me.”

“Bull. Sh-shut up.”

“One swing is all it takes.” He continues, sounding almost bored, and Trea shuts her eyes against the headache that ebbs, against the bloodlust that flows. “A bloody lip for me and an invisible healing salve for you, that’s how it works and you know that. Hell, get out your sword. It’s the actual bloodshed that works the best. But you can’t, can you? You’re not strong enough.”

“What’s going on here?” Trea hears Sera’s voice from the top of the stairs, but she doesn’t dare look away from Iron Bull’s gaze.

“Nothing to worry about, just proving a point.” He waves a dismissive hand but doesn’t break eye contact either. “Isn’t that right, oh famed Inquisitor? But now you can prove it to your best friend too. That you’re inadequate, incompetent, and incapable of actually—”

The blow strikes before Trea can really decide on the matter, her fist a blur of heated movement and then Iron Bull is taking a step back, holding his nose. She smells the blood before she sees it and she won’t deny the sensations that floor her — the taste of cold water on a hot day, the press of ice against a bruise, the sting of balm then relief. She straightens, just that much more invigorated, but so does he.

“Thought so,” he says with just an indiscernible hint of sadness to his voice. Trea blinks, arms braced to move into a block, but the other qunari just pushes past her. “Learn some damn restraint before this thing overwhelms you. It’s already starting. Without discipline, bloodlust will be all that’s left of you, and where will the Inquisition be then?”

[everestv-themuse]

Thanks for the prompt! Decided on writing a very vague modern AU for this since it seemed appropriate. Trea Adaar x Josephine Montilyet for @midnightprelude​ @dadrunkwriting​

“Is that...?” Trea lifts her head from the couch armrest and mutes the TV, rubbing at her eyes and trying to listen carefully. She thought she heard a plink against the window, but maybe it was just her—

Plink. Plink plink. Plinkplinkplinksplat. Trea groans as she stands at the unmistakable sound of rain, padding over to pull back the curtains and look out the window. Sure enough, she stares out at the city street below her, watching as stray raindrops fall, before an onslaught of precipitation suddenly begins pouring out of the sky and pelting loudly against the window.

“So much for that nap,” Trea grumbles, turning to head back to the couch and glancing at the hallway leading to the front door, noticing the deep navy of an umbrella hanging from its usual hook. Her eyes blink wide. “Shit! Josephine!”

Climbing over the couch in one fell swoop, Trea scrambles to pull on her boots and coat, only pausing to grab the left-behind umbrella and lock the door behind her before racing down the stairs of the apartment and hitting the street with a splash. She hastily pulls out her phone to check the time.

“Fuck, I don’t have time for the subway, she’s probably getting ready to leave right now...” Trea glances up and down the busy street in front of her, watching as it slowly becomes the typical crawl of rush hour exasperated by the pounding rain. “Fuck it!”

Without a second thought, Trea sprints across the street, weaving in and out of traffic, ignoring the chain of honks and angry protests from cars and pedestrians alike, umbrella held tightly in her hand.

Since she knows the way to Josephine’s office by heart, her sense of direction isn’t her problem. She’s just not sure if she can make it in time. Whatwith the slippery sidewalks and the building traffic all around her, it takes more effort than she cares to admit to keep herself from skidding in a puddle or colliding with a bumper. Not to mention having to wipe the rain from her eyes every few seconds while concentrating on not letting the drenched umbrella slip through her fingers. She should’ve put the strap around her wrist right away, but she can’t afford to stop now. Not when the office building finally comes into view.

“Homestretch,” she says through gritted teeth as she runs ever harder, all but crashing into the revolving front doors once she finally gets to her destination. Panting, she forces herself to slow her gait and try to gain traction on the smooth marble floor of the lobby. She also has to remind herself to straighten her posture as best as she can, now that all three receptionists at the front desk are staring at her drenched form in horror.

“Hi, um,” Trea starts between breaths, leaning slightly against the desk, trying not to drip everywhere. The receptionist in front of her moves the sign-in sheet out of her watery radius all the same. “I’m here to see Miss Montilyet. Is she, uh...has she left yet?”

The center receptionist looks Trea up and down and her coworkers attempt to return to their work, despite keeping an eye on the conversation anyway. “Did you have an appointment? It’s certainly late for one,”

“Oh, no, I...” Trea takes a few deep breaths to try and calm her racing heartbeat. “I should be on the approved visitors list. I’m Trea. Uh, under Adaar. I just wanted to run this up to her,” she says and meekly waves the umbrella into view.

“Right...” The receptionist says with barely veiled suspicion before typing away at her keyboard. At this point, the ticking of the lobby’s grand clock replaces the drumming in Trea’s ears, and she curses Josephine’s company for hiring new people so often and never getting a chance to recognize her. “Yes. Well. Here you are. I haven’t seen her leave yet so she must still be in her office.”

“Great!” Trea smiles and inches away from the desk. “So could you get the elevator for me? And send it to her floor? Since I don’t have an employee badge and you guys just have such tight security around here. All very impressive, I mean!”

“Of course, Miss Adaar,” The receptionist nods and types a few commands into her computer as if it pains her. Without much of a delay, one of the elevators opens. “Have a good day,”

“Thanks! You too! You’re the best!” Trea calls as she races into the elevator and grins until the doors close. With a sigh, she all but collapses against the elevator walls and begins a mediocre process to try and wring out her hair and jacket. But the ride to the top floor is too quick and the doors are opening again before Trea can make much progress.

Weaving her way down familiar hallways and nodding at familiar faces, Trea continues forward with her mission in mind, only stopping once she finally gets to Josephine’s assistant.

“Oh! Miss Adaar! We weren’t expecting you today!” The kind woman welcomes her before noticing the state of her for the first time. “Oh my, you look dreadful!”

“Yeah, uh, it’s really coming down out there.” Trea runs a hand through her hair in an attempt to smooth it out, hoping the assistant was exaggerating about her appearance. “That’s why I just wanted to run this over. Is she, uh, busy right now?”

“She was on a last minute conference call earlier, but...let me see...yes, she just got off the call. Walk right in!”

“Thank you,” Trea says with a warm smile and approaches the solid door of the large office in front of her, knocking twice before slipping inside.

“Yes, yes, I know I should be leaving soon, but I just wanted to—” Josephine glances up from the file cabinet she was sifting through and cuts herself off at the sight of the unexpected visitor. “Trea! What are you...look at you, you’re soaked!”

Trea lets the shorter woman rush towards her to press cool hands against her cheeks and forehead, checking briefly for a temperature, before she raises up the treasure still held tight in her hands. “I brought you an umbrella,”

“And you ran all this way, in the pouring rain, without using it for yourself in the process?” Josephine asks, but she isn’t really surprised. She helps Trea out of her dripping jacket and leans up to place a brief kiss on the other woman’s lips.

“I, uh...oh, well, I guess I didn’t think about that...I was more worried about missing you on your way out,”

“Of course you were,” Josephine shakes her head with a smile. “So worried you forgot I keep an extra umbrella here in the office for these very circumstances?”

Trea glances at the mentioned umbrella leaning against the coat rack, all ready to go with Josephine’s purse and coat hanging just above. “Oh...yeah...sorry...”

“I appreciate you battling the elements so valiantly regardless,” Josephine laughs and spares Trea another sweet kiss. “You arrived just in time, I was just finishing up. Let’s get you home and dry you off before you catch a cold,”

Trea bows her head sheepishly and rests it in the crook of Josephine’s neck in defeat. “Yes, ma’am,”

[everestv-themuse]

(a memory that involves romance/love)

Warning, bit of a downer ahead! I’ve had this scene in my head for so long, and have wanted to actually confront Trea’s grief in full for so long, that I kinda got a bit intimidated. Glad I finally got to it, though. There’s something so satisfying about writing angst that’s been brewing in the background for so long. So, thanks very much for the prompts! Trea Adaar x Josephine Montilyet for @dadrunkwriting​ & @hell5bell5​ / @bitchesofostwick​ & @tevivinter​.

The fireflies are glittering all around her, dipping and dancing at the direction of her fingertips. She circles with them, relishing the feeling of grass between her bare feet. She laughs when she manages to catch one, peeking through her fingertips to watch the flicker, before opening her hands in an arc to watch it fly away again. She glances at her mother a few feet away, sitting against the tree with her eyes closed and hands folded in her lap. The image is jarring, she knows it is, but can’t quite figure out why.

Bringing a hand to wipe away the sweat beading on her forehead, she rushes forward. “Can we swim for a bit? Please?” She takes her mother’s hands in hers and tugs a few times.

Her mother looks up, smiles in a way that makes the edges of her vision blur, and squeezes her hands gently. “It’s getting dark, imekari. We should be heading back soon.”

“Oh, but please? Just for a little while?” Her insistent tugs bring her mother to her feet and she grins despite her determination to be pouty and convincing. “It’s just so hot and I wanted to show you my strokes! I’m so good at them! Please?”

Her mother laughs and scoops her up to sit on her shoulders. “Fine, fine, you win. But just for a little while. Are you ready?” Her mother asks as she approaches the nearby lake’s shoreline. She just claps in response and giggles.

“Yes, yes!” Warm hands grab her from under her arms before she’s being tossed into the lake, flying through the air before hitting the surface with a splash.

***

Trea wakes up with a start, the feeling of falling washing over her for the quick second it takes to jerk upright. The dream is still flooding her senses. She swears she can still smell the lake, the summer wind, the grass of the meadow. She looks down at her hands, struggling to catch her breath, blinking furiously to rid herself of the flickering that lingers across her vision. Her skin is calloused, rough and dry, but it’s the shaking she focuses on, the way her fingers look so empty, the way they feel so...

Her throat is tight and the room is starting to spin. Trying to keep her wet gasps quiet is not doing her breathing any favors. She swallows thickly and carefully pulls back the covers, moving to stand and escape out to the balcony when a hand brushes against her wrist.

“Trea?” Josephine’s sleepy voice sounds and it only tightens Trea’s chest further. “Is something wrong?”

Her feet touch the floor as she sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and dropping her head in her hands. She doesn’t trust herself to speak, just closes her eyes and tries to focus on evening out her breathing. The sheets rustle behind her and then Josephine’s hand presses to her shoulder, trails its way down, rubs gentle circles against her lower back. Trea’s breath catches and she hates herself for it, trying to cover it up with a cough rather than let the sob escape her scratchy throat.

“Please let me...I wish you would...I wish I...” Josephine struggles for words and Trea glares at the floor. She doesn’t know what to say. For once, she’s the one who can’t find the words. And it’s because of you. She deserves better. Josephine lets out a breath. “I want to fix this for you, I want to help. Even if it is only to listen, I would rather you—”

“It was just a dream,” Trea shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

Josephine presses a kiss to the top of her spine and she shivers. “A nightmare. Maybe if you tell me—”

“No, a dream.” Trea pushes off the bed. “Or...or a memory. But it couldn’t have been. It couldn’t. She would never be so...so...”

“Who?” Josephine’s voice is barely above a whisper and Trea’s fists clench.

“My mother.” Her voice wavers at the admission and she clears her throat. She starts pacing alongside the bed. “But it felt so real. It felt like it happened before, or it could have. If things hadn’t...it was just a dream. I know that. But I’ve never wanted to fall back asleep so badly. Just to...just so that we could...I just needed more time.”

Josephine presses against her in a hug from behind, pausing her pacing and holding her close. “Cálmate, cariña. Breathe.”

Trea isn’t sure when she finally lost the battle, but she can feel the tears run down her cheeks now and her every breath catch in her throat. “I woke up and it hurt. It hurt and I actually...missed her.” Trea’s voice broke into a short laugh, a scoff at the very thought. “Isn’t that funny? I missed her. Her, the woman who drove me away, the woman I could never hope to please. The first person I ever knew, the only person I had for years.

“And I don’t even know if I’m missing a real person, or fragments of a person that could have been, a collection of childish fantasies. Just stupid hopes and dreams.” Trea crosses her arms over her chest, holding tight and pressing hard. Josephine’s hands around her middle feel like feathers in comparison. “I don’t know what to think anymore, I don’t know how to make it make sense. I mean fuck, it’s been weeks since the funeral and this is the first time I’ve cried, I’m...” She lets out a breath and every nerve ending inside her buzzes at the sudden feeling of calm that washes over her senses. “She was right. I’m just a shitty excuse for a person.”

Josephine’s embrace drops away as she suddenly spins Trea around. Her gaze is hard, even as her hands brush up to gently wipe Trea’s cheeks dry. “Stop this. Don’t go there. You know that’s not true.” Trea can’t meet her gaze and her chin drops to her chest. “I know that’s not true.”

Her voice is feather-light and it makes Trea wince. All she can do is shake her head.

Slowly, as if not to startle her, Josephine takes large hands in her own smaller ones and guides them both back to bed. With gentle nudges and gestures, she gets Trea to lay down and curled into her chest, bringing the blankets up around them again.

Trea can’t help but feel ridiculous, all coiled in like a child. Her knees bent up and her hands folded in close, she barely fits in the embrace of Josephine’s much smaller form. She can’t imagine what it looks like — a big, burly qunari, the Inquisitor herself, on the verge of tears once more because of a simple embrace. She squeezes her eyes shut.

“All of this is just... This will pass, my love.” Josephine says in a whisper before pressing a kiss to Trea’s forehead. “Everything will look better in the morning. Just sleep now.” She doesn’t sound convinced by her own words and Trea bites her lip. She can’t blame her.

But she opens her eyes and resolves to stay awake. She can’t afford the risk of dreaming again.

[everestv-themuse]

the magician: transformation, beginnings, good omen; “I guess today’s my lucky day.” possible AUs/settings/ideas: first meeting, supernatural au, witch au

Thanks for the prompt! I’ve never written a modern!AU for them, let alone a supernatural!AU so this was really fun! Werewolf!Trea Adaar x Witch!Josephine Montilyet for @honestly-wilde​ @talesfromthefade​ @dadrunkwriting​

Waking up with her tanktop plastered to her back with sweat, a kind of jitteriness deep in her muscles to move, and that familiar itch buzzing just beneath her skin, was certainly not what she had planned on that morning. Trea blinked and sat up with a groan, reaching for her phone and tapping to the calendar app.

Yup. Full moon is still a week away. My cycle is early. Fuck, and it’s seven in the goddamn morning... Rubbing determinedly at her eyes, wishing desperately she didn’t feel the burning need to dispel the sleep from her body, she sent a quick text to her pack’s groupchat — going out to Vivienne’s, anyone need anything?

Not that she expected an answer. To say her and the rest of the Valo Kas were typically night owls, went without saying. She padded down the hallway to the bathroom, needing to rid herself of the evidence of another night of tossing and turning, and heard proof that some of her packmates lived a ringer-on kind of life. Fucking heathens, she thought to herself as she stepped into the cold shower starting to run. If my text wakes them up, that's on them.

***

"Oh darling," Vivienne breathed in surprise when Trea dragged herself through the door of her bespoke apothecary. "Whatever do you look like!"

"Yeah, sorry, um, not a great morning..." Trea replied, scratching at the back of her neck and trying not to lean too heavily on the pristine glass case in front of her. Still, she could see her shallow panting fogging up the surface and could already feel the lecture coming on.

"My goodness, did you run here? And with only that ratty jacket to keep you warm?"

If Trea wasn't already flush from her journey, she would've felt her ears warm with a blush. "My, uh...my cycle is early. I'm kinda desperate. I don't know if you, by chance, have any inhibitor elixirs in stock?"

Vivienne arched an eyebrow. "Trea, dear, you know I suggest getting a prescription for this very reason. I don't have anything ready at the moment."

"Right, I know, I just thought..." Trea hung her head, scrambling to think of what she could do in the meantime. "Do you think, um...Dagna's place wouldn't carry anything similar, but maybe Morrigan? She has a few—"

"Out of the question." Vivienne interrupted. "I will not have you stooping so low, even for the sake of teaching you a lesson in planning ahead. Wait here, let me see what I can whip up on such short notice.”

“Thank you,” Trea mumbled meekly and slumped in a nearby armchair for waiting customers as Vivienne disappeared to the back room. Hanging her head low and rubbing slowly at her temples, she tried to massage the throbbing that was—

Then the bell above the shop door rang out, crisp and unmistakable, and Trea grimaced at the headache flaring up even more than before. Of course, the laughter bubbling from the two entering customers didn’t help matters. She squeezed her eyes shut at the unabashed conversation sending a spike through her temples and took a deep breath.

Expensive perfume, expensive coffee, the scent alone tells me these are perfect examples of Vivienne’s typical clientele. Not like some ragged werewolf she took pity on one day. I really hope they don’t make some judgy comment about me not belonging here. With more effort than she cared to admit, she straightened her posture in the chair, adjusted the collar of the flannel jacket she wore, and took out her phone to pretend to be on. Running a hand through her haphazard hair, she could only hope she faded enough into the background.

Regardless, her heightened senses didn’t bother taking pity on her, and she had no choice but to hear the bubbly conversation between the two women, even as they disappeared behind some shelving. That didn’t mean she could understand it, however. As soon as they saw her and walked past, they had easily slipped into Orlesian and Trea was lost. Is there anything worse than hyperfocusing on something that doesn’t even make sense?

After several minutes of pointlessly trying to tune them out, Trea resigned to listening more closely. She was surprised the two voices sounded so different from each other. While the one had the unmistakable lilt all Orlesian accents tended to have, she had none of the haughty inflection or exaggerated pronunciation Trea was used to. And the other, certainly the more talkative of the pair, didn’t sound Orlesian at all. She didn’t seem to stumble over her words or have any trouble with translating, but her accent was completely unfamiliar. There was something warmer about her tone, something more airy and musical. Trea was trying so hard to place it, that when the conversation suddenly seemed to come to a halt, she almost jumped.

And then there were the sounds of approaching steps.

Trea tried to relax, pointedly staring at the blank screen of her phone and trying not to fidget too much. Maybe it was her early cycle messing with her nerves, but she couldn’t understand why the prospect of this angel-voiced rich lady approaching her got her so anxious. She felt too jittery to play tough and unassuming. She was a bundle of nerves and she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t notice the way her canines were growing slowly sharper.

“Excuse me?” A voice rich like a symphony sounded before her and Trea looked up, suddenly faced with caramel eyes that only seemed to glitter gold under the weight of a polite smile. Trea let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Have you seen Miss de Fer around? We weren’t sure if she had gone out or if—”

“Ah Miss Josephine! What a pleasant surprise.” Vivienne suddenly appeared from behind the back curtain and those golden eyes mercifully turned away from Trea. “And Leliana, always a pleasure. I take it you’ve already found everything you needed?”

The dark-haired woman—Josephine—and her companion approached the counter with their items and struck a familiar kind of conversation. Trea waited patiently, too scared to move and interrupt, too entranced by the way the morning sunlight glinted through the windows and reflected in the golden necklace Josephine wore, glimmering against her skin and—

And then she was caught once again. Josephine suddenly turned to face her, quickly, offering up only a warm smile while mouthing the words, thank you, before turning away again to resume her role in the conversation.

A breathy, silent kind of laugh rested against her chest and Trea carded a hand through her hair. Who would’ve thought? One smile from a pretty stranger is the cure to migraines. I guess today’s my lucky day.

[everestv-themuse]

(Talesfromthefade)The waver in a person’s voice when they’re stressed, for DWC?

Thanks for the prompt! Hope you like this little thing for Vivienne & Trea Adaar for @dadrunkwriting

“There you are, dear,” Vivienne’s voice sounded in the small alcove above the main hall, eyes only lifting slightly from the tome she was reading. “I was wondering when I would be expecting you,”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Trea allowed, panting slightly from her run up the stairs. “I know I’m late. You should’ve started without me.”

Vivienne glanced at the spread of finger sandwiches and various pastries on the table before her, all left untouched since the servant had brought them up over half an hour ago. She suspected the tea in the nearby pot had also since gone cold and conjured a small flame underneath to warm it.

“Yes, well, I must have gotten distracted in the time waiting for you,” Vivienne replied before standing to replace the tome on a nearby shelf. If Trea had any suspicion that the mage simply made up an excuse rather than admit to wanting to wait for her friend, the Inquisitor kept it to herself. “You’re here now, I suppose. Feel free to dig in, dear.”

“Right,” Trea took the statement as permission to sit as well as eat, settling herself in the opposite armchair as she made a plate for herself.

“My, my,” Vivienne tutted under her breath as she poured the two of them tea. “By the looks of your portions, I’d think you were half-starved.”

Trea glanced up at her friend and consciously made the effort to slow her actions. “I haven’t really eaten all day. Lots of running around,”

“My dear, this isn’t the time to start neglecting yourself. You need your energy as much as your strength.” Vivienne watched keenly as Trea seemed to wince at her words. The way the Inquisitor’s shoulders still held tension, the slightest of trembling in her hands as she held her plate, the hazy glaze that draped itself across her downturned eyes — it gave Vivienne pause. She had thought it was just from the rushing here or the shame of being late, but the unfamiliar mannerisms still hadn’t faded.

“I know. I didn’t mean to. I was just an idiot this morning because I woke up late. And then I was behind on everything else I had to—”

“Have you been sleeping well?”

Trea looked up at that, searching her friend’s gaze to see if the question was some sort of test, some sort of point being made. Vivienne simply stared back with a softness that felt more instinctive than she expected.

“No, not really,” Trea admitted with a soft sigh. “I know it’s important, I know I should be better about it. There’s just been so much to prepare for the expedition into the Frostback Basin. More than usual, I guess. And I’ve just been so scatterbrained trying to keep track of everything...”

Vivienne nodded curtly, recognizing the ache in her chest brought on by the waver she heard in Trea’s voice. “Well well. It appears you need a break then, hmm? Everyone does from time to time, after all. So let us drink our tea, eat our treats, and talk of nothing past Skyhold’s walls. I had wanted to discuss Dorian’s birthday, anyway, and wanted your opinion on the gifts I’m deciding between.”

[everestv-themuse]

temperance: communication, healing, moderation;

“I’m here for you. You can talk to me.”

possible AUs/settings/ideas: comfort, deep talks, hugging, woundtending

Thanks for the prompt! So essentially, this is the second of three mini-fics in this little arc set during Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune, wherein Leliana is pissed about Trea going the long way around the whole assassination contract debacle and supporting Josephine’s method. Ask me why I wrote this out of order when I had this whole thing planned in my notes forever now. Couldn’t tell you. Regardless, I hope it’s not too confusing. Trea Adaar x Josephine Montilyet for @midnightprelude​ & @dadrunkwriting​

“Neither a guard nor Trea will be there next time, Josie. That is the point.” Leliana finishes her speech of sorts and walks over to pick up her bow again. The room is quiet, save for Josephine’s hard breathing in the corner. She’s glaring holes in the floor, Trea is glaring at her Spymaster from her position halfway in the doorway, but Leliana doesn’t comment on the obvious tone of the room. She simply gives a last flashing look to the Inquisitor before pushing past.

Trea lets the door thud heavily behind her before finally allowing herself to rush to the other end of the office. “Josephine, are you alright? I can’t believe she just—”

“Please.” If Josephine noticed the absence of formality, she simply brushes it aside just as she waves away Trea’s concern. “I’m perfectly fine, Inquisitor, startled is all. I apologize for the...the commotion of sorts. I hope this didn’t interrupt anything.”

Trea gapes at the shaking woman before her, the hollowness in Josephine’s voice alone sending ice into her veins. “C-Commotion?! I...n-no, I was on my way to...Leliana, she just...what the fuck was she thinking?!”

“Inquisitor, please,” Josephine says flatly, finally relinquishing her hold on the knife still clasped tight in her shaking hand. It drops to her desk and she puts more pressure where she’s grasping at her bicep, fingers covering where the second arrow tore through her sleeve. “Lower your voice.”

“Lower my...?” Trea’s voice trails off as she looks up at the ceiling in disbelief. “She attacked you! In your own office! And then threatens me before I could give her—”

“She simply did so to make a point.” Josephine interrupts and stares at the two arrows lodged deep in the stone wall behind her. “One we all heard loud and clear.”

“Jo— Lady Montilyet, you can’t honestly tell me that she...” The arrows join her knife in a small pile on her desk and her fingers slip just slightly as she slumps into her armchair. She winces at Trea’s suddenly trembling voice. “You’re bleeding. You’re actually...I thought Leliana meant to miss both times, I thought...wait here.”

“Inquisitor, please. I said I’m fine, it’s just a—”

“I’ll only be a second,” Trea cuts her off, steel in her voice, before rushing out of the office.

Josephine can hear her heartbeat thudding away in her ears and a wave of exhaustion hits her, bowling her over if she hadn’t already been sitting. With a sigh, she lets go of her arm and stares at the blood now staining her fingers. Stupid. She glances at the weapons on her desk before suddenly pushing them away, hard enough to send the knife and arrows clattering to the floor. Childish. With a shaky breath she turns to one of her desk drawers, pulling out a small bottle of Tevinter liqueur. Pouring a healthy amount into the rest of her now-cold tea, she downs the cup in one swig and splutters out a cough. Irresponsible.

And so she sits in silence, taking a final deep breath before holding it trapped inside her chest. She can tell herself all she wants that she’s listening for shouts from the rookery, signs that a fight broke out, guards rushing over, crows cawing at the scene, a certain Orlesian mage and Seeker holding back an enraged Inquisitor and Spymaster respectively. But there’s no point. Really, she’s listening for any discernible creaks from the windows, from the floorboards, from either door. She’s waiting for some kind of sign from a shadowy assassin, come to finally finish the job and prove to Leliana once and for all that if the naive Ambassador had just—

Trea bursts in, a weather-worn burlap sack all but cradled in her arms, and Josephine jumps. “I brought the— oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I only...I have some things for your arm!”

Josephine wishes she had the strength to stop the qunari’s rushing advances, hands a flurry of movement as she empties the bag of its wound care equipment onto the desk. “Inquisitor, really, there’s no need, I—”

“Ambassador, really,” Trea responds easily, as if anticipating the protest. “If you tell me you’re fine again, I’ll be forced to get the healer to confirm your claims. If you let me look at your arm, however, it’ll only be a second.”

“...if you insist,” Josephine gives in after a moment, watching Trea as she unrolls a wad of clean bandages and inspects the cut.

“Well, you’re right about one thing,”

“Only one?”

Trea brushes her fingertips around the wound, trying not to prod too much, and Josephine certainly does not shiver. “It’s not very deep, should heal fine on its own. I just need some...oh, uh, perfect...actually. May I?” She asks hesitantly, suddenly noticing the bottle of alcohol on the table.

It’s so terribly expensive these days... Josephine almost laughs at the instinctive thought and nods. “Be my guest,”

“Thank you. This might sting a little,” Trea says as she pours the smallest amount necessary on a bit of bandage. “So feel free to squeeze as hard as you need to.”

Josephine stares at Trea’s open palm before hers, stares for maybe a beat too long, before taking it hastily to cover up the hesitation. Ridiculous. “Ready when you—” Her voice cuts off in a hiss of surprise and she closes her eyes tight, only opening them again when she feels Trea give a gentle squeeze in return.

“Taashath, ebasit kata,” She chuckles softly and pulls her hand away to secure the bandage in place. “Good job, you were very brave.”

Josephine blinks at the suddenly playful tone. “I...thank you.”

Trea glances at Josephine’s bloody hand and offers a bandage to wipe off the excess. “I’m sure you’ll want to wash up, change maybe. I can walk you to your room if you’d like.”

“No, I...” Josephine says quickly and shakes her head, scrambling for an excuse. “Knowing Leliana, she’s probably there now, waiting to catch me off guard again. She’d likely want to go over all the things I did wrong in her little excuse or run through it again or...”

Trea’s gaze hardens and she turns to pack up her medical supplies again, as if the action would hide her stormy expression. “Oh, well, you’re welcome in my quarters, if you’d like. I have a water basin. Um, a very comfortable sofa as well. Though you probably are aware of that. And, well...” Her voice lowers as she knowingly toes the proverbial line before her, hoping she won’t regret crossing it. “I can also offer a locked door. Unscalable walls. My sword, if need be. You won’t be caught off guard again if I have anything to say about it.”

Josephine watches Trea’s hands as she cleans up, clenching and unclenching, almost rhythmically, systematically. “What was that you said before? Ta-sha...I don’t believe I caught the rest.”

Trea looks up. “Oh, uh, taashath...ebasit...kata.” She pauses and Josephine repeats the phrase slowly, softly, and enough times for Trea to approve of her pronunciation with a nod. “It means ‘calm, it is ended.’ The Valo-Kas, we...we would say it after a hard fight or after patching each other up or...well...it’s just meant to be something soothing, encouraging, you know?”

Josephine nods and looks down at her blood-stained fingers, at the open bottle of alcohol sitting there so invitingly, at the cracked mortar in the wall behind her. At Trea’s hand, once again open and offering itself on her desk. She takes it without hesitation this time. Inadvisable. “Thank you for the offer, I can’t see any reason not to take it. Shall we?”

[everestv-themuse]

Sorta late for a Valentine’s Day post, but ah well. Trea Adaar x Josephine Montilyet for @contreparry​ @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul​ @dadrunkwriting​

“I’m starting to lose you, aren’t I?” Josephine’s voice sounds from across her office and Trea’s head pops up from the book in hand.

“What?”

“I mean your pacing, my love.” She chuckles before stretching her arms above her head. “It has been getting more and more frantic by the minute. You’re clearly losing interest in all this wonderful paperwork we find before us.”

“Sorry,” Trea ducks her head and slumps into the nearest armchair. “Was it distracting?”

“No, I hardly blame you, in all honesty.” Josephine says softly as she walks over and settles in Trea’s lap, arms hung loosely around her neck. “That’s one of the things I love about you, your innate ability to recognize when a proper break is in order. However consciously you do so.”

“That makes me sound lazy,” Trea huffs and Josephine just laughs, pressing close into the qunari’s neck while holding back a yawn.

“Let’s go to bed, love. It’s been a long day,”

“I’m not really tired. I feel wide awake, actually. We should do something!”

“I knew that last cup of coffee was a terrible idea. I knew. I knew you’d be up for hours afterwards and yet,” Josephine clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “I can never say no to you.”

“C’mon, it’s a beautiful night.” Trea’s eyes go wide. “I know, that’s it! We should take a stroll!”

“Trea, my love, the stars have been out for hours now. It’s late.”

“Exactly! It’ll be beautiful!” With a practiced grace, Trea sweeps Josephine even more into her arms and stands to spin around the room, holding the other woman close to her chest. “Think of it! Just a quick little stroll beneath the stars. And then I’ll carry you to bed and we can sleep in tomorrow morning.”

Josephine nuzzles further into the crook of Trea’s neck, holding on tight. “We absolutely will not, there’s so much to do tomorrow.”

“Fine, fine, we’ll wake up at the regular time.” Trea concedes quickly. “But otherwise, doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

There’s a beat and then a sigh. “A quick stroll and then to bed, if only so you can spend all this energy of yours.”

***

“Trea, I adore you, you know this. But how exactly did you misunderstand my humble request?” Josephine asks in the stillness of the night air, pinching at the bridge of her nose as she stands before the stables.

“I love you too. Also, I have no idea what you mean,” Trea responds brightly as she continues saddling up Tal-Kata. The bog unicorn shows no signs of frustration at being awoken by its owner, but glares daggers at Josephine all the same.

“A quick stroll does not equate horseback riding,” Josephine clarifies and unapologetically glares back at the creature. “I was imagining a lap around the ramparts, or a walk from one end of the courtyard to the other, and here you are saying we’re leaving Skyhold entirely.”

“Just for a bit, just to the clearing out by the lake. The sky is wide open there,” Trea says as she reaches over for Tal-Kata’s finishing touch.

“Don’t bother with the double saddle, armor, I’ll just get Ardito ready.” Josephine stops her and walks to the other end of the stables with a sigh. “If I must.”

“She’ll warm up to you eventually, maybe even let you pet her for once.” Trea smiles warmly as she leads her disagreeable mount out of the stall. Josephine scoffs in dissidence under her breath. “It’ll be quick, I promise. But you’ll love it all the same. Just trust me.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust, it’s my ability to stay awake,” Josephine says once she’s at Trea’s side and out into the courtyard, patting the side of her Ranger’s neck in apology for the late night adventure of sorts. Ardito just shakes out his champagne coat and waits patiently for further instruction.

“Look, though! That’s what I’m talking about,” Trea points upward at the open sky, eyes bright with wonder and glittering moonlight. It takes Josephine a moment before she’s able to pull away from the extraordinary sight. “A shooting star. Make a wish,”

She can’t help but give in to such a request. Josephine stares at the momentary streak across the sky in concentration and takes a deep breath. May this peace happen again. When all is said and done, grant us the freedom to spend a random night out under the stars once more. Allow us the ability for repeated repose, and the wish to spend it together. Please, don’t make me lose her before we have this chance again.

The two ride out to the gates in relative silence until Trea can’t help herself. “Not gonna tell me what it is? Your wish?”

Josephine shakes her head with a smile. “Childish superstition aside, I would not want to risk it failing to come true, my love. Just trust me.”

[everestv-themuse]

May I please request “Rise and shine, motherfucker” w Trea, please? ❤️

Thanks for the prompt! Sorry it’s more angsty than the line insinuated, I couldn’t help it. Sera and Trea Adaar for @dadrunkwriting & @ladylike-foxes

Sera lets out a slow breath as she takes a break from re-fletching a set of arrows to roll her stiff shoulders. By this point in the night (morning?), her eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the tent, but where's that gonna get me now? Everything feels sore from sitting in the cramped position she's been in for most of the night, on and off whenever she's awoken by a violent rustling of sheets beside her. It's been quiet for a little while now, this would be her chance to rest her eyes for a bit, but she knows it won't last for long.

"All the power in the friggin' world, and you can’t go one hour without a nightmare," she whispers in the stillness, gazing at her best friend and savior of all Thedas, buried up to her chin in a pile of blankets.

She stretches her arms above her head and yawns before peeling back the edge of the tent opening. She can just see the glowing outline of the sand dunes around camp, noticing the sky is more of a dark gray than pitch black. "Perfect," she mutters to herself and scurries under the blankets of her bedroll, trying to mirror her friend's position.

"So I get, what? Two hours of sleep before Cassandra insists we're wasting—"

It starts as a murmur, a growl barely passed through clenched teeth, but it's been exactly what Sera has been watching out for. She sits up to look and as if on cue, Trea thrashes to one side, kicking off half her blankets in one fell swoop.

She starts forward on instinct, ready to mumble soft words and with soothing hands, tuck Trea back in. She can hear Solas' words slithering back to mind, "She is the Inquisitor and her dreams are different than ours, more steeped in the Fade than we could imagine. She should not wake from them, she has so much to learn about—"

Trea whimpers in her sleep. There’s no mistaking it. She actually whimpers and Sera blinks. And waits, unbelieving. But there. A broken murmur, that breaks the stillness and it’s like Sera’s heart is in her throat because she hears,  “N-no...please...”

She moves before she has time to reconsider, pouncing on Trea’s restless form and leaning in close. “Rise and shine, motherfucker!” She whisper-shouts in her ear.

With a start, Trea jerks awake and all but throws Sera off in a panic. “Wha— I— who—”

“Relax, relax,” Sera chuckles as she rolls to a sitting position, mind still racing as she wills her thudding heartbeat to slow. “It’s just me, shite. No need to arm up.”

In a haze, Trea lets go of the hilt of her sword, seemingly not realizing she had reached for it in the first place. “I-I didn’t...sorry, I was just having—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sera says quickly, mentally cementing her plan. “If you’re good, though, follow me. Want to show you something.” With that, she scrambles out of the tent having already tugged on a pair of boots and swiped for her dagger belt and cloak. Trea is left rubbing her eyes and struggling to catch up.

By the time she’s managed to step out of the tent as well, Sera is waking up her hart and setting up the reins, moving with a jittery kind of energy that has Trea yawning and squinting in comparison.

“What are we doing again? It’s still dark,”

“You’re gonna want your little cape thing. It gets nippy. And dawn is only a couple hours out.” Sera replies simply, glancing at the saddle resting in the sand beside them, before waving a dismissive hand at it.

“I’ll be fine,” Trea grumbles, moving reluctantly toward her slumbering dracolisk. “Still don’t know where we’re going. Or why.”

“Wait, we’ll just take mine. Easier that way.” Sera stops her and Trea frowns, not exactly loving the idea of the two of them riding a hart bareback into the desert night. “But fine, don’t blubber to me about being cold later. My cloak would barely cover your arm. Help me up, would you?”

***

“And you think this will hold?” Trea asks, biting her lip. She watches as Sera jumps down into a wooden balcony, haphazardly built into the sheer canyon wall below them. Her friend settles with feet hanging over the edge, clearly not concerned about the rickety platform of wood that is the only thing separating her from a free fall.

Sera grins and glances up at Trea, still standing on the stable ridge above. “All the things we’ve been through and this is what does it for you? ‘Cause I swear, you’ve fallen from worse before.”

“It’s not the height,” Trea corrects with a roll of her eyes. “It’s the shoddy, ancient craftsmanship that shouldn’t—”

“So you admit it? You’re scared! Of some wood and nails? All of Thedas is doomed!” Sera bursts into laughter and Trea steps down into the balcony without a word, sitting down in a heap beside her friend. The balcony doesn’t so much as creak.

“Happy?” She grumbles and sits crosslegged on the platform.

“There she is!” Sera exclaims and throws a light punch to Trea’s arm. “The fearless Inquisitor has arrived! Courageous beyond measure, born with undeniable invincibility, forged from—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Trea shoulder checks Sera but can’t stop the grin that builds around the edges of her frown. She pauses and lets the moment fade, allowing the two of them to fall quiet in the early morning hours. They look down into the canyon where they can hear the river slowly trickle through, or out across the ridge at the scraggly rocks and dunes of the Western Approach. After a while, she exhales softly. “This is nice. This place. How did you know it was here? It’s not on our maps.”

She isn’t sure when, but at some point, Sera must have scooted closer. Trea doesn’t need to look to know Sera is shrugging, she can feel the movement against her own arm. “I take walks sometimes at night. Or rides. When I can’t— w-when Cassandra snores too loud or when Vivienne—”

“When you’re not watching me sleep?”

Sera huffs at that and her words come out in a mumble. “Don’t make it sound creepy,”

“Not creepy. Unnecessary.” Trea doesn’t mean for the words to come out so sharp, but now that she’s started, she finds it hard to stop. “I’m not some fragile child or shaken up footsoldier. And I’m certainly not some Fade-touched test subject or whatever Solas thinks I am. He may know more about this shit than anyone else, but...well, it doesn’t mean...since when do you go along with whatever he says, anyway? You can’t stand him!”

Trea expects her to raise her voice too, stand up and stomp in a circle, all prickly and defensive like she usually is in an argument. Instead, Sera wraps her cloak closer around herself and keeps still. “Seemed like it was helping, didn’t it? Seemed like I was...”

She wilts, she can’t help it— shoulders falling limp and hands unclenching from fists. All the while, Sera sits up straight beside her. She shouldn’t push, she should just leave it, she doesn’t really want to know, but she has to ask, “Tonight, though? What was different? Was it...that bad? That bad that you had to wake me up?”

There’s no reply. Trea turns away from the canyon river below and looks up at the sky, brightening gradient by gradient, watching as pinprick stars leave their place in the dark one by one.

“Was I loud? Did I wake you up? Did I get too close? Did I...did I hurt you? Was I going to?”

A lone hyena scrambles up to the ridge across from them, trotting from edge to edge. It pauses here and there to dig a small hole before giving up and continuing its search, moving in an unintelligible pattern.

“Sera, I just need to know if—” Softly, something leans in and presses against her arm. She looks down and sees Sera propped up against her, eyes closed and breathing steady. Trea lets out a breath and looks back up at the sky. The light around them forms a solid block of gray, a hazy, formless blanket. Dawn has broken but the sun chooses to stay hidden.

[everestv-themuse]

For DWC: “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with..” for Adaar x Josie? :D

Thanks for the prompt! I haven’t written much for their pre-relationship, so this was fun to explore! Trea Adaar x Josephine for @dadrunkwriting ​ and @amata-hawke ​!

Josephine massaged the bridge of her nose as she slumped in her desk chair. It had been the first time she’d gotten a chance to sit down since that morning and as she glanced out the window, she allowed herself a small groan. There wasn’t even a semblance of the setting sun, it was just pitch black outside. She glanced at the stacks of papers on her desks but her hands wouldn’t move and if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want them to.

Closing her eyes, she went over all the meetings she had during the day and the necessary follow-up they each required. There had been builders and diplomats and quartermasters and visiting dignitaries and...and...

“No,” she said with a slight grumble, willing herself to stand and begin blowing out the candles in her office. “None of them would suffer very much if I didn’t address their concerns first thing in the morning. What is it Vivienne is always suggesting? A night in. That’s what I need.”

With that, Josephine made her way out of her office and to her quarters, glancing around to ensure she was alone before stretching her arms high over her head. Everything felt sore from being on her feet all day and she bit her lip. Maybe it was time to schedule another training session with Leliana. It had been ages since their last and evidently, her body was starting to take notice of the lack of exercise.

“Another time,” she told herself as she went straight to her little wine cabinet once in her room. She grabbed one of her older bottles from home and drained a healthy amount into one of her smaller sherry glasses. This is enough, she thought and lowered herself onto the bed, staring all the while at the bottle.

“I don’t think I can think of anything sadder than drinking alone, Ruffles. And I write the occasional tragedy for a living!” She remembered a comment Varric had made to her once after confiding her evening plans in him. Never again, of course. She didn’t need the resident storyteller making note of anything more than he already did. But even so...

Bottle and extra glass in hand, Josephine found herself at the Inquisitor’s door only a few moments later. Not that she’ll be in here, the thought occurred to her even as she knocked. There was no answer. She’ll probably be with Sera at the tavern, surrounded by the rest of the Inner Circle who all have healthy social lives. And good for them! She knocked again, but still no answer. She started to turn away but blew out a breath through her teeth.

“Boldness!” She insisted with a whisper and let herself in, calling out as she ascended the stairs. “Inquisitor? Have I caught you at a—” Her eyes immediately went to a rumpled heap lying across the desk, the Inquisitor herself, snoring away atop a stack of papers. “—bad time?”

She smiled to herself as she set the bottle and glasses down next to an empty dinner tray and wandered over to the desk. Standing behind the desk chair, she glanced over the qunari’s shoulder at the papers she had been going through. She recognized them immediately— they were all various forms needing the Inquisitor’s approval, the exact ones Josephine had given her that morning. The stack looked to be about halfway finished and Josephine glanced through the ones that seemed to be done.

She had expected them to be signed without much of a second glance, but when she looked closer, she could see little notes scribbled in the margins and several phrases underlined or circled. Each finished form was not only signed and initialed, but they also bore the official wax symbols of the Inquisition. Seems I'm not the only one who's had a long day...

"Inquisitor?" She murmured, laying a hand on the slumbering woman's shoulder and shaking it a bit. "Lady Adaar?"

"H-Huh, who...Lady Josephine! I, uh—" Trea jerked awake and scrambled to tidy up the desk before bouncing to her feet. "What are you— I-I mean, did I forget something we scheduled, or..."

"Oh, no, no," Josephine waved away the idea before gesturing behind her to the bottle she brought. "I just came by to share a drink. Or see if you were up for one, that is." Trea blinked at her but a smile was there, at the very edge of her lips. Was it hot in this room or was it just Josephine's ears that were burning? "Of course, now, standing in the middle of your quarters and waking you up, I realize how forward this all is, so I would understand if you thought—"

Trea laughed and shook her head, "I don't know what you mean, my lady. What's a spontaneous nightcap between friends, right?" She asked simply before glancing around the room. “I’d ask you to sit, but, um...one second...” Before Josephine could stop her, the Inquisitor had raced over to the couch set against the stairs railing and moved it single handedly to the center of the room, right in front of the fireplace.

“Oh, there’s no need to— ...well, thank you, I...”

“Yes, of course, please,” Trea beamed, motioning to the couch before glancing around again. “And, uh, oh!” She exclaimed as she went to grab the bottle and fill a glass, handing it delicately over to Josephine as if she was unsure of her ability to hold such a fragile thing. “Here you are,”

“Thank you,”

“Did you, um, shall I relight the fire?”

“That would...that would be lovely, thank you,”

“Of course,” Trea nodded and turned to add another log to the hearth, watching to make sure the coals rekindled before facing her guest again. “Is there anything else you would need? A blanket or...or a cushion, maybe?”

“No, no, please. Everything is perfect. Sit,” Josephine insisted as she reached over to fill a glass for Trea before settling on the couch.

“Right, um,” Trea accepted the drink with a nod and made sure to sit in the very corner, giving Josephine as much room as possible on her own side. “Sorry if it’s a little drafty in here. It should be better once the fire really starts going.”

“Constant restoration and this entire castle remains perpetually drafty. Leliana insists it has something to do with being in the mountains, but who’s to say?” Josephine laughed and Trea did too. That is, until Josephine began scooching closer to her. Suddenly their thighs were touching, their arms were touching, and Josephine was settling into her side like they had done this countless times. Neither woman deemed it an appropriate moment to breathe. “I’m sure we can...we can manage perfectly fine just like this. Wouldn’t you say?”

Trea bit her lip and moved her arm to drape over the edge of the couch behind them, fingers just brushing Josephine’s shoulder, providing the other woman more space to press closer. “Y-Yes, of course,”

[everestv-themuse]

For the DADWC: “I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”

Thanks for the prompt! Trea Adaar x Josephine Montilyet for @dadrunkwriting & @contreparry

Some small movement caught Trea’s eye and she looked up mid-bite, watching as strands of Josephine’s hair escaped her bun and fluttered in the wind. She smiled to herself, smiled at the way the pink glow of sunset lit up the gold of Josephine’s dress, smiled at the warm breeze that brought in the smell of the sea. It’s a nice change from the rainy night of last time...

“Sorry, did I miss something, my love?” Josephine asked, noticing Trea’s gaze trained on her.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring. I’ve been so preoccupied with the meal, I’m afraid I might have missed something you said.”

“Oh, no,” she shook her head and continued eating. “I didn’t say anything, no need to worry.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet, the journey here really—”

“I know, you were just hungry.” Trea smiled softly at her. “You’re very one-track minded when you need a good meal in you.”

“Perhaps,” Josephine returned the smile and rolled her eyes, accepting the teasing nature of the insight. She waited a beat before prompting, “What were you thinking then? When you were staring?”

“Oh, just...well, remember the first time we came here? The weather was awful,”

Josephine laughed and nodded. “How could I forget? You were so nervous!”

“Was it that obvious?” Trea ducked her head and stared down at her plate.

“To be fair, I didn’t notice at the time, but I’ve come to recognize your tells, my love. You get very giggly when you’re nervous and everything was funny to you that night.”

“I-I, well...” Trea didn’t try to argue, she knew she wouldn’t win. “I remember practicing for hours in front of the mirror that day, trying to figure out the best way to ask you to dinner. I agonized over whether already having the reservation was too presumptuous or not. And now...”

“I imagine it’s easier,” Josephine offered.

“Yes, well, I was just going to ask if you were hungry this time and go from there, but of course, I already knew the answer.”