A/N – Just a little mess that picks up after Haven is buried. Truth be told, I didn't really *notice* Josephine until everyone moved to Skyhold. In my headcanon, she didn't really notice my Inquisitor until this point, either, though clearly she's the easiest to romance.

This work will pick up as Josephine's family honor is restored and focus on what I imagine happened behind the scenes as this romance unfolded. From there I'll likely deviate entirely from the story so I can have a little fun with these characters. This won't be an in-depth work; just a distraction. I really was more interested in Sera, but I didn't get her as a companion early enough to rack up the approval despite being her favorite race and gender. Next time. For now, I'm all in with Josie.

Plus her name is my name too. How cool is that?

Early morning, Josephine's office

She's sitting there again…

Malora Adaar was folded quietly in a corner reading a book. It was a strange sight, such a tall and powerful warrior smiling into the pages of a work of literature far too small in her massive hands, but it was one that Josephine Montilyet had grown accustomed to. The brute often made her way to that corner on her down time, bringing with her books on magic, history, art, anything she could get her hands on. Well, anything except for Varric's trash, that is. The Inquisitor did have some taste, after all.

When Malora entered her office Josephine always made a big show of pouring over her notes, pretending to refresh her memory from her latest assignment, but secretly she just watched the gentle giant make her way over to the far corner. Inquisitor Malora Adaar was an enigma, at once unnerving and durable. The entire weight of the Inquisition was on her shoulders, yet they never slumped, she never once faltered. The ambassador let her gaze wander over those muscular shoulders, thinking about the tension they must hold. How much pressure was the strange creature under? Far too much, and she seemed utterly alone. She was a stranger here, her race marking her as an outsider, yet all of them depended on her for their safety and for direction. Josephine drew her eyes up to those stony features, that almost imperceptible smile that sometimes graced them when she read something particularly interesting. Sometimes she thought about asking what it was that delighted the qunari so, but she never quite worked up the nerve.

As it was, the companionable silence reassured her that she was in the right place. The Inquisition was the world's only hope, and the Inquisition's only hope was the demon quietly existing in that corner, the unknown quantity that may have been touched by Andraste herself. If being in this room afforded the tall and intimidating woman some small comfort, then Josephine was more than happy to be accommodating.

"Josie. Josie? Josie!" Leliana ruffled some papers on the diplomat's desk to get her attention, her eyes following her friend's gaze to the far end of the room. "You and I ought to have a chat."

"What is it, Leliana? I'm rather busy…" Josephine readjusted her paperwork and hunched back over it, oblivious to the fact most of the pages were upside down.

"Right. You're not reading that. Come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Josephine muttered as the former bard pulled her out of the office. She turned her head slightly toward the qunari warrior, who merely raised an eyebrow for a moment and went back to reading her book, used to such disturbances. Josephine was often pulled away by one of the other advisors to deal with some visiting dignitary or another, and she would return after the appropriate niceties had been exchanged.

The diplomat resisted being pulled up the stairs, but her friend was in much better physical condition and she was no match for the assassin. In a few moments she was at the top of the keep in Leliana's chosen room, the lofty rookery. "Ok, what is it?" Josephine dusted herself off and crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at the older woman.

Leliana just took a seat behind a table and produced a knife, casually cleaning her fingernails with it. "Do you realize she is interested in you?"

Josephine's mouth opened a closed a few times, but no words came out. Who was interested in her? Adaar? The idea was outrageous. They barely spoke. The few times they did speak, the qunari was friendly, but aloof. There was nothing that could have been interpreted as specifically romantic. Besides, the rumors were that she was already involved with a member of the troupe. Rumors often had a grain of truth to them, after all.

After a few moments she finally found her tongue. "Don't be silly. She's sleeping with that elf girl." The diplomat nodded to herself in satisfaction. She could deflect this whole matter with just a few choice phrases and not have to address it at all. Sera was exceedingly convenient. The girl made no secret of her attraction to the qunari, and it was a natural progression for the two of them to find comfort in one another's arms after the trials of the road. When Josephine closed up the office for the night, Malora would head over to the tavern and spend time with Sera. It was likely they bedded down together in the evenings.

"Is that what you think?" Leliana placed the knife back in her boot, leaned forward and folded her hands on the table. "Tell me, my friend, why is it that every time I need to find Adaar, she is in your office?"

"Well," Josephine started, carefully planning her answer, "it is often quiet there. She quite enjoys reading." That explained everything, did it not?

"Her quarters are not quiet? It seems to me that if peace was truly what she sought, that would be the superior choice." Leliana studied her friend's face carefully. In all the years she had known Josephine, she'd never seen the woman this taken before… or this oblivious to it. Clearly, there was something between her and the mysterious giant, even if neither of them could name it.

"Well," Josephine sat down in a chair opposite the assassin. "I suppose she wants to remain available in case anyone needs her. My office is just outside the war room as well as the throne room. It is a small matter for her to get up and attend a meeting or deal with any who require her judgment." She folded her hands as well and blinked innocently, hoping that Leliana wouldn't push the matter. Things were finally settling down again after the tragedy at Haven, and this was not the time to stir the pot. They had rebuilt most of their new fortress and it was very nearly comfortable. She was getting used to her days dealing with the various dignitaries that visited, sending letters and other correspondence, and her nights sharing a quiet companionship with their defacto leader, the tall warrior that stood as a stoic shield in front of them all. It was something that was just there and that's all it ever had to be.

Never mind that she was beginning to worry a little more than was proper about the brute every time she left with those companions of hers. Never mind that every time Malora returned, she secretly examined every inch of the powerful qunari form from a distance to ensure there were no new scars or broken limbs. Never mind that when Malora stayed at the remote camps for days or weeks at a time she would stare at the empty corner of her offices, wondering where the party was and when they… when she… would come back again.

Never mind all of that. Things were settling in nicely, she was forging new alliances at breakneck speed, and their ragtag little band of nobodies was quickly rising to be the dominant power in the world. She was at the forefront of it all, and it was nothing short of exhilarating. There was no way she would jeopardize what she had by allowing her imagination to run away with her. Malora Adaar, the strange beast-woman that came from somewhere over the sea, was merely being who she was: formidable, but accessible. There was nothing more to it. It would be ridiculous for her to even entertain the idea that they could… that they could be… she couldn't even think the word in her wildest dreams.

"Fine. What of that other matter?" Leliana had watched Josephine's face run the gamut from scared to pensive to resolved. That meant she had reached some decision, but whether that decision was to take her comments seriously or continue to wear her blinders, Leliana didn't know. In any event, the truth was that this matter was minor in comparison to the rumors she'd heard, and that pressing situation needed to be dealt with.

"I," the dark-haired woman wrung her hands nervously and looked down at them. "I don't know what to do about that. Well that is, I know what to do about it, but there is so much going on, how can I?"

Leliana placed a hand over Josephine's nervous ones. "Just ask Adaar for help. If you won't allow me to handle the matter, at least ask her to assist and see what comes of it. She will go with you. I am certain of it." The corner of Leliana's mouth twitched as a sudden thought occurred to her. "And in doing so I believe we might have a way to determine her intentions toward you."

Josephine rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You are being ridiculous. Lady Adaar has no intentions toward me of any kind. I really wish you would stop meddling."

"I am doing nothing of the sort, but my friend…" Leliana took one of Josie's hands in both of hers and turned it over; smiling sadly at a romance she had lost so long ago. "My friend, we must take our happiness when and if it comes, especially when the days are most dark. Do not make yourself too unavailable. You may find that when you require comfort the most, what you might have had has long since departed."

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" Josie gripped Leliana's hand tightly, offering strength.

"No," the rogue replied. "No, I'm not, really. Not anymore. This is not about me, anyway. It is about you, and I believe that the only one who can help you with this little problem is Adaar. If she agrees to help you, I think that the manner in which she does will reveal what her intentions are."

Josephine released Leliana's hand and leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. "This is ridiculous. We are staring down the end of the world and all you can think about is my personal life. Will you just get a life of your own? Cassandra is rather attractive."

"Stop deflecting, Josie. Just explain the situation to Adaar and request her help. If she drops everything to accompany you to Val Royeaux, you'll know. Putting the entire mission on hold just to play petty politics with you will cement what I already believe. You are special to her."

Josephine snorted rather unbecomingly and waved a hand. "You are putting too much thought into this, Leliana."

"You are not putting enough into it, my friend. Just ask her." Leliana stood and motioned toward the door. "One way or another, this matter needs to be resolved. You will not be able to do it on your own. This needs to be taken seriously."

Josephine looked down at the table and absently traced patterns in the wood. "I know."

Leliana squeezed the younger woman's shoulder and left the room, heading toward the tavern. She hoped that Josephine would take her advice, but if she didn't, there were a few assassins in place to handle the inevitable.

Sometime after the meeting in Val Royeaux

The assassin crossed her arms and stared straight into the horned giant's eyes. "Let me handle this. It will be quick and clean. There will be no trace left, and no one will ever know of our involvement."

Malora Adaar leaned against the wall, looking from Leliana to Josephine and back again, thinking. Leliana was efficient. Often she'd employed the assassin's tactics, choosing the stealthy approach because it was simple. It was effective and got her the results she… that the Inquisition… needed. But this was different. This was Josephine. There was more at stake here than the woman's life, though that was certainly the most precious thing. Malora had the distinct impression that her decision here would determine the course of her friendship with the alluring diplomat.

"I need some time," the massive qunari replied, flexing her powerful leg muscles under her armor in preparation to leave. She rarely took her plate mail off these days, practically sleeping in it in case she had to jump up and defend Skyhold. The losses at Haven had shaken her and she still wasn't quite over it. If only she had been faster. If only she had been stronger. If only she had been anyone but a qunari. If only she had been someone the people could have accepted and rallied behind right away, instead of the stranger from a strange land with a strange mark and a strange story. Unifying the people had been an exercise in frustration, and she shouldered the blame for all of it. So many lives were lost just because she was too tall and had fierce horns. Demon, they called her. Oxman.

Outcast.

As if she hadn't already suffered enough at the hands of her own people just for being born Tal-Vashoth. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Corypheus was back, he was really pissed off, and somehow she was smack dab in the middle of all of it. And now even the small amount of peace she found when back at the fortress was being threatened. Someone had a contract out on Josephine's life; the one person in all of this she felt accepted her or at least, tolerated her.

Perhaps it was just her breeding; Josephine Montilyet was refined and polite and would never make a disparaging remark publicly. Perhaps she just enjoyed the extra protection afforded her by having the leader of the Inquisition nearby. Perhaps she just didn't even notice that Malora spent all of her free time in that dark corner, sometimes quietly reading, but mostly just existing and thinking.

Even that could be snatched away, and the warrior gritted her teeth in anger. Half of her wanted to just let Leliana bully her way through. It would be faster, for certain. With the contracts destroyed, it would all be over in minutes. It was so simple, right? Sure it was. That was how she handled things, anyway. Draw her hammer, swing it around a few times, and if anyone was left standing, swing it some more. There wasn't much that couldn't be solved by brute force.

But this?

"Ladies, I take my leave of you. I will return tomorrow." Malora nodded gruffly and walked out of the offices, heading for the tavern. A stiff drink was exactly what she needed to sort this out in her mind. Josephine was protected here in the fortress, at any rate, and she caught Cassandra's eye and motioned to the entrance to the keep, silently giving the command for more soldiers. Leliana likely had operatives on Josephine around the clock, but Malora would feel better with a show of cold steel at the doorways. The other warrior inclined her head slightly and jumped to action, signaling three recruits to accompany her and take up flanking positions.

Malora liked Cassandra a lot, despite their initially antagonistic acquaintance. Cass was a brilliant tactician, a marvelous fighter, and an extremely sensitive soul. In another life, she might have been interested in more from the other warrior, but that other life ended the moment she met her political advisor, Josephine Montilyet.

She sat down at the bar and signaled for ale, leaning forward thoughtfully. There was really only one answer, time consuming though it might be. She couldn't let Leliana destroy the papers and then continue on the mission as if it was little more than a hiccup. Josephine wanted to handle the situation the seemly way; the diplomatic way. It would lead to a better reputation for her family in the long run, and Malora thought sometimes that reputation was the only thing that mattered to the human. Still, if that was what the young and beautiful politician desired, that was what she would have.

"Another," Malora said as she drained the rest of the mug. The liquid cooled the fire in her soul and made her drowsy. It chased away rational thoughts, and led her to dreams her sober mind would never allow her to entertain. She thought about the last time she entered the council chambers. Josephine hadn't looked up from her desk, but Malora thought she saw the hint of a smile grace the lovely features for a split second. She did not approach Josephine, instead settling into her normal spot in the darkened corner, but that image stayed with her for the duration of the evening. How she loved to see that smile! She'd give anything, do anything, just to see the human's face light up with joy.

I wish I wasn't so monstrous. Perhaps if I were a human as well, things would be different. I'd be able to approach her.

Malora scratched absently behind a horn, pushing her empty mug to the edge of the bar.

"You look like shit, boss." The jovial voice startled her, but the reassuring hand on her shoulder told her that it was the closest thing she had to a friend in the entire company. Iron Bull, the other qunari warrior that had somehow wandered into her life, seated himself beside her and called for a drink. "What's your problem?"

"No problem," she replied, taking her mug in hand and tracing the rim absently.

"Bullshit. That's romantic trouble, for certain." He took his own mug and drained it in one long draught. He wiped his lips with his sleeve and slammed the mug back down on the bar.

"No," she replied quietly, and it was the truth. There was nothing romantic between her and Josephine, and that was likely the way that it would stay. After all, who could possibly fall in love with such a beast? Certainly not a well-to-do and refined aristocrat. Malora stared at the scars that adorned the backs of her hands; deep gashes from years ago that crisscrossed up her arms and had never healed over properly. In those days she had no access to healing magic. She just patched herself up as best she could and moved on. Her body was battered and broken, and she felt old, so very old. She was a stark contrast to the youthful human, whose eyes were bright and full of inspiration and hope. Even facing death, she was scheming and plotting her way out of it. She was magnificent. Malora could deny her nothing.

"Fine, keep your secrets, but if you ask me, you are taking this whole strong, silent, brooding type thing to an extreme. Giving us all a bad rep." Iron Bull pushed himself away from the counter and clapped her on the back.

"Yea." Malora finished her ale and shook her head. He meant well; she just didn't feel like talking. When he left, she stared up at the ceiling and exhaled slowly. "All right, Josephine," she said to no one in particular.

"We'll do it your way."

After the successful restoration of Josie's good name

"I told you." Leliana sat with her feet on the table across from Josephine, absently attending to her nails with a knife.

"Told me what?" her companion replied evasively, swirling a spoon around in her soup.

Leliana shook her head, "You know exactly what. She took the long way round, even though at every other turn she has accepted my way of doing things."

"That proves nothing, Leliana." Josephine dropped her spoon in the soup and scrunched up her face at the assassin's boots. "Do you mind? I am trying to enjoy my meal."

Leliana shrugged and took her feet off the table, letting the chair hit the ground with a crack. "Perhaps in and of itself it proves nothing, but she pays you compliments every chance she gets, she spends all her time in your office, she asks your advice before anyone else when we hold council, and you are the first person she comes to see when she returns from the field. Does that not strike you as odd?"

"Again, you are reading too much into it. Of course she comes to see me when she returns from her tasks. She needs to be aware of the changing political climate! Every action she takes has a ripple effect. She understands that, and it is my job to see that she is well-informed." Josephine resumed pecking at her soup, though she had no appetite. Why was Leliana so bent on this? It was over, anyway. Malora Adaar had handled herself admirably, and Josephine's life was no longer in danger. Why could they not just move on?

"Your reports keep her well-informed. She doesn't need to come see you after she returns from every little trip to the Hinterlands."

Josephine inhaled and shook her head. Sometimes her friend was so impossible. "There is no substitute for a quick debriefing on the political climate. Yes, my reports are thorough, but after being in the field I expect she just wants the short version."

Leliana bit her lower lip thoughtfully. Josephine was really trying hard to convince herself that the horned demon was strictly business. Why was that? Was it because Malora was a qunari and she was afraid of what everyone would think if they got involved? No, it likely wasn't that. A romantic alliance with the Herald of Andraste would bolster her reputation, not tarnish it, qunari or no. So then what? It was true that Josephine was inexperienced in matters of the heart, but she was nearly thirty years old and she surely would be experiencing some desires for physical companionship. Malora Adaar was a good enough choice for that, anyway. Leliana silently admitted that even she had glanced at the warrior's strong shoulders and chiseled torso once or twice, wondering what it would feel like to have those muscles pressed against her, that powerful body crushing hers.

Or perhaps… oh Josie, you are in love with her and you are afraid she doesn't return your feelings. It's entirely possible that I've got this whole thing wrong. Maybe there really isn't anything there on Adaar's side. I'd better find out before I push you any further…

"Very well. I must take my leave of you. When you see the Herald, and you undoubtedly will when she returns, will you tell her I'd like to see her? It's rather important."

"Of course, Leliana. I will see you later." Josephine was aware of her friend's departing footsteps, though she kept her outward focus on her meal. Once she was certain that Leliana had left, she dropped her spoon and buried her face in her hands. Up until now, she'd had it all under control. Adaar was a concerned comrade; worried about losing her diplomat to an assassination. That was it. Up until that moment overlooking the sea, she could tell herself it was just in her imagination, where it was safe. Up until she saw the brilliant light reflected in those deep steel eyes, shimmering plate mail gleaming in the morning like an angel's breath, she could tell herself it was all completely innocent.

Up until the moment Malora Adaar halted the entire Inquisition just to make sure her family name was restored and her life was spared… she could keep the tall woman at a distance, that formidable figure, unapproachable, unattainable, and perhaps most of all, untouchable.

Up until now, she could tell herself there was simply nothing there.

And perhaps up until now, there wasn't.