The woman stares at her from across the table. Josephine knows who she is – Isabela, companion and close friend of both Hawke and Varric, who sit on either side of her, chatting eagerly. Isabela arrived only that morning, offering the simple explanation of being in the area, and just feeling like showing up. It was completely un-Josephine like – to just show up to a place because you felt like it rather than meticulously planned it – and yet she almost found the idea a bit thrilling.

There was something about Isabela. Whether it was the relaxed, enthusiastic laugh she had, or the way she leaned back on her chair, one leg crossed over the other, or even the way that one lock of hair was out of place and Isabela hadn't rushed to fix it as Josephine might have – for appearance has such a vital role in meetings – something about this woman seems free.

The woman stares at her from across the table, her gaze inquisitive. Josephine's eyes widen slightly and a blush begins to spread on her cheeks as she realizes – she's been staring back.

Isabela appears in Josephine's office the next morning. Josephine's heart begins to race slightly, but she carefully shifts her focus onto the stack of papers Cullen had placed on her desk. It had been sitting there for hours now, and she hadn't wanted to deal with it since the task of sorting through all these dull reports (Cullen was many wonderful things, but he was not a writer) was a daunting one. She knew they were important, and she knew she had to -

"Oh," she breathed as the sight of Isabela sitting on the edge of her desk broke her thought chain. "Um – I – I – that is to say, I'm – I – Hello."

Isabela smiles, a complete mix of a grin and a smirk.

"Hello, little birdie," she says, and it's the first time Josephine has heard her voice and oh, it is beautiful.

"May I... help you?" Josephine almost squeaks, and she's certain the blush on her cheeks is making her and her ridiculous crush so obvious.

Isabela's grin widens slightly. "Yes, you can, little birdie," she says. "You see, Hawke and Varric are in a meeting with the Inquisitor right now, and I find myself unbearably alone. I was wondering whether the Inquisition's beautiful ambassador might care to walk me through Skyhold and show me its charms."

Josephine shouldn't – she truly shouldn't, she has a million things to do, and yet -

"Of course," she replies, the smile that springs up on her face not even planned. She meets Isabela's amber eyes, the golden flecks in them like patches of sunlight, and almost shivers under the intensity of her gaze. Isabela is so beautiful. The brown hair framing her face and falling freely midway down her back is thick and glossy, and her skin is impeccably smooth.

"Er, Josephine?" Isabela asks, and Josephine tears her gaze away as the woman laughs slightly. She had been staring. Again.

"Oh – sorry – right – let's go," Josephine stammers, and stands up abruptly. Isabela slides off her desk with ease, and continues to grin at Josephine as she comes round her desk. She offers Josephine an arm, and Josephine takes it instinctively, hoping beyond hope that her blush isn't too noticeable as they take off.

"And this is my favourite spot in Skyhold – the view is unlike any I've seen – except, perhaps, from the Inquisitor's room, but I can't show you that view without explicit permission from her, I'm afraid – and oh, right across there is Leliana's office – I believe you've encountered Leliana before? - and down there is Cullen's office -"

Josephine breaks off her rant. Isabela has opened the window with the beautiful view. It's rather high up, and the wind immediately rushes through. It brushes Isabela's hair back as she leans out, and despite the immediate chill that comes from it Isabela leans further out, laughing and tossing her hair.

The sight is... captivating. Josephine is once more being reminded of Isabela's freedom – she's a pirate, unbound, driven by a longing to see and to do, and yet so kind, so charming, so sweet – and it's just so beautiful in Josephine's eyes. She's just so beautiful.

"What?" Isabela has turned her gaze from the window, one eyebrow raised slightly. Josephine's mind begins to race – oh, Maker, what has she said aloud? - as Isabela's lips curve up into that smile of hers that's half-grin, half-smirk.

"I think you're beautiful, too," Isabela says simply, and Josephine melts.

Josephine is sitting at her desk that evening, carefully placing the stack of now read-through reports from Cullen on top of a few from Leliana she had dealt with. She'd deliver them to the Inquisitor tomorrow – they weren't of any particular pressing importance, but Josephine liked doing things promptly.

Her work is finished – she would normally retreat to Leliana's office, where the two women would share their days over cups of hot tea, sometimes joined by the Inquisitor if she wasn't busy, but tonight Josephine doesn't move. Tonight, her thoughts turn to Isabela.

The pirate has simply enchanted her. Josephine has always known she was a bit of a romantic, and Isabela had charmed her like no other. She determines that the atmosphere around Isabela was almost like that of the prince in Josephine's fairy tale – free, fun-loving, and yet so, so kind, so charming, so wonderful. The smile Isabela had smiled earlier – the half-smirk, half-grin – had such a way of drawing Josephine in.

She closes her eyes, and begins to imagine. It was what she did sometimes, when she truly had no work to be done. She'd close her eyes, and her mind would be taken over with the vividest of daydreams and fantasies. Josephine has entire worlds constructed in her head, some resembling those she's read in her books, others entirely her own. She begins to imagine a new world – a world where Isabela's there, right now, and she takes one of Josephine's hands, and brings it to her lips and presses a light kiss to it, and then, then -

She dares to imagine what it might be like if Isabela kissed her. Immediately, her heart begins to race, and a shiver runs down her spine.

"Josephine," she hears, and her eyes fly open. Isabela's standing in front of her, leaning down on her desk so that her face is so close to Josephine's she fears the pirate can hear her heart pounding in her chest, and smiles at her.

"Isabela," Josephine breathes.

"Come away with me. Just for tonight – perhaps tomorrow, as well, and even the night after. Come away with me."

"Yes."

Isabela's ship is docked about an hour's walk north of Skyhold, in a river that she's told leads to the Waking Sea. The women had walked to it slowly, talking of anything and everything while they did. Josephine had spoken of her childhood, and how it lead her to the Inquisition. Isabela had spoken of her time in Kirkwall, with Hawke and all their other companions.

Now they stand at the edge of Isabela's ship, gazing out together at the skies that are filled with a million tiny stars. Part of Josephine worries – Leliana might wonder where she is, after all, and she didn't want to cause a fuss – but another part of her mind, one that rarely appears in her thoughts, says that no, tonight isn't a time to worry – tonight is a night to just live. Live like Isabela does. Freely.

Isabela stands beside her, gazing out at the water and the sky. They're both so vast, and yet something in Isabela's gaze tells Josephine that Isabela knows all of it. She's tied to the sea and the sky – they're her home. A gust of wind blows Isabela's hair back, and Josephine is transported back to the morning at once.

"I meant what I said earlier, my lady," Josephine says suddenly, surprising herself at her boldness. "When I – that is – when I said you were beautiful. Up in the tower."

Isabela turns to her, her golden-flecked amber eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. Her lips curve up into a smile. "So did I," she says, and takes a step forward. And then another.

Their faces are only a few centimetres apart, and Josephine's eyes are locked onto Isabela's, her heartbeat going faster than ever before. Isabela very slowly takes one of Josephine's hands with both of her own, raises it oh-so-slowly to her lips, and kisses the knuckles. She lowers the hand, but doesn't let go, which Josephine is glad about because she feels like otherwise, she might faint.

"May I kiss you?" Isabela whispers.

"Yes," Josephine whispers.

And Isabela does. The kiss is light, gentle, still asking for permission. Josephine kisses back, and Isabela finally lets go of Josephine's hand to wrap her arms around her waist and pull her even closer.

They kiss, and it's amazing, wonderful, romantic. They kiss, and it's perfect.

When they finally break apart, their foreheads touch, and Josephine closes her eyes, listening to the sound of Isabela's breathing, and cannot help but notice that it's synced with the sound of the lapping of the water against the boat. She cannot help but feel as if she's kissed the sea itself. As if she's kissed freedom.

They only kiss the one time – Isabela resumes her position, gazing out at the stars, and Josephine resumes her position, gazing out at Isabela. She feels as if she's been transported into one of the worlds she dreams up, into one of her fairy tales, until a thought strikes her that makes her pause.

"Isabela," she says hesitantly. Isabela looks up at her, smiles, and nods, encouraging her to continue. "I... in all of Varric's stories, you have been described as many things – passionate about many things. One of them being... love-making. I... I must admit to you that I find the prospect of love-making a daunting one, and not one I've ever desired. I hope this isn't too – too awkward, but I know that if we are to – to take our kiss and turn it into a dalliance, I must say it. I do not desire anything – anything physical. Not – not like that. I hope that doesn't... offend you. Or turn your gaze from me."

The next few moments are some of the most daunting Josephine has faced in her life. She stands across from Josephine, still gazing at her, and the golden-flecked eyes gaze back. Isabela begins moving towards her, and then her hands are lifting up, cupping Josephine's cheeks, and she leans in and kisses her again, tenderly.

"My dear Josephine," she whispers as she breaks the kiss. "Dear, beautiful Josephine. If I wanted sex, I'd have gone to the Blooming Rose. No – I was perfectly aware that you weren't someone who wanted sex, and that's fine. Josephine, it's truly fine, little bird. I kissed you tonight for one reason, and one reason alone."

"What was that?" Josephine asks shyly.

"Because I want to get to know you. Because we've only known each other a day but it feels like I've known you a lifetime. Because I think you're beautiful, and I felt the overwhelming urge to kiss you," Isabela says simply, and Josephine moves forward suddenly to kiss her again. It's spontaneous, passionate, and oh, oh, so perfect.

AN: I don't even know why I ship it so much. I just do. This was written in the course of an hour, completely unedited, and I don't even care because I just ship it so much.