-Attached by a gold thread to an ornate, golden nug mask, complete with mother of pearl inlays, delicate, silver-spun whiskers, and pink crystal inner ears-
Favors that I expend are nothing if it means I will make you smile, Inquisitor. I fully expect you to wear this at least once while you are here. That will be a great scandal if you do not, and I am sure I will never forgive you!
….Especially since I have a matching one.
It must have been Josephine's excellent tutelage that allowed Juniper to navigate the political intricacies of Orlais. She was sure she wouldn't have had the savvy she needed to know just how to use that locket she found in Celene's vault, to recognize a worthy secret when she heard one, to overcome the prejudice of the people there, and make them all flock to her cause to take down one of their own, and raise two in his place.
Leliana assured her that Orlais was essentially theirs, that they knew enough, and that the paired women rulers owed them enough that the Inquisition would have a hefty say in the way the country was run for quite some time - and of course their spymaster would ensure the secrets, and the power, kept flowing in the proper directions: toward them.
It was enough to make Juniper giddy, though she didn't show that while around others, of course. She was a practiced hand at all this political stuff now, or so she felt she was, even if she did have to take her nug mask off earlier this evening to start fighting Venatori.
Wine flowed, and there was no way that she could flit away to the kitchens to nick a bottle without someone missing her now. She was the center of the party the way she had never been before, and it was a miracle that she somehow made her way to a balcony alone for a breath of cool air - it had been downright oppressive in the ballroom. She half wondered if she had Bull to thank for her alone time… he would make an imposing presence at the door, after all, and she knew that he knew that she would have been getting overwhelmed and needed time alone.
Or… she thought she was alone.
She heard the door open, letting in a rush of voices and overly complicated music, and then it closed, the sounds muffled again. Her ears picked up the soft sounds of slippers before she turned, knowing already who it was without even having to see.
Quick little steps closed the distance between them, Josephine seeming all in a rush to get to her, stormy eyes bright with joy, a darker coral than before coloring her full lips. The scent of lavender tickled Juniper's nose. "You did so well," the ambassador said, breathless, exhilarated, her words coming out in a rush, unpracticed, her. "I mean, of course you did, you always do, but… oh!" She took Juniper's hands in both of hers, squeezing them, and if Juniper's cheeks hadn't already been hot, this would have done it. "I am so very proud of you, you are... " she seemed to lose her words a moment, eyes darting around as if she expected to find them peeking out at her from a corner, behind a bench, a shrub. "...you are constantly more than I ever dreamed you could be."
All of that careful, artful training that had been imparted to her was for nothing now, when she was so shy, looking down, the freckles on her face surely even more prominent on her darkened cheeks. She didn't know what to say, how to accept this compliment when she felt that she only half deserved it (where was her giddiness from before?!), but then Josephine was continuing, stepping closer still.
"But are you all right? Everything that happened…"
Everything meaning the execution of Gaspard, the intrigue, the overall stress of the evening. It was no secret among them that Juniper was about as comfortable amidst the crowd as poor Cullen was - she was just able to handle it better, shove it aside and get the job down. And now…
"Yes… yes I think so." Maybe? "Emma souveri - I'm tired, I mean." All the more evident with the slip of her tongue. But then she was still so on from the evening's events! And somehow she didn't care at all that Gaspard had met his end… and maybe she should? She wasn't sure. But she… she thought she was okay.
It would be hard to be otherwise, anyway, with Josephine so close, looking strange and oh so official in the Inquisition garb. Juniper was herself - she looked down at the two of them, at how they matched, and even so, she felt that Josephine was clearly the more beautiful, wore it so much better.
But uniforms were boring. All of this was boring and inconsequential. And why? Because Josephine was still close, still had her hands caught near her heart, and Juniper didn't know if she dared to raise her eyes.
"You must forgive me," came that soft, musical voice that Juniper was so utterly in love with. "I am always so afraid for you. I tell myself not to be, but then I am, and there seems to be little I can do about it."
"But we've won tonight." Her reply was no more than a whisper; it needn't be louder, close as they were, and maybe part of Juniper wanted the ambassador to lean even closer, trying to catch those breathy words. "It is ours."
"And what shall we do with it, then?"
What shall we do with it, then?
The question seemed to dance around her, whirling and teasing with possibility, never quite in her grasp so that she could wring out the answer. What shall we do with it, then? She raised her eyes at last, green to gray, fresh spring leaves to storm tossed waves, and she swore that they were close enough that she could taste the woman's breath, sweetened with wine - how many glasses had Josephine had? How many had Juniper had?
What shall we do with it, then?
If Juniper was truly more, was truly this hero that everyone claimed she was, then she would kiss her now, stand on her toes to claim those coral lips, taste the wine there, drink her in, headier than any draught this party could offer. But she was just herself, shy and uncertain and hesitant, and so though she licked her lips, dreaming, she couldn't take that step.
Instead, she heard herself saying, "Dance with me?"
Everyone else was. The night was positively obscene with the amount of revelry - she could hear the stomping of feet on the ballroom floor, shaking the floor a little even out here. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary to dance out here, but… but while the dancing out there belonged to the party itself, here? Here it was just them, belonged to the two of them, and Juniper told herself that it would be as intimate as any kiss, their bodies close, their hearts close, feeling the beat and the rhythm that each held, fingers entwined, fitting together just so.
The answer came not in the form of words, which Juniper had half-dreaded - the answer might be no, after all. But instead an arm went about her waist, strong fingers tangling themselves in her sash, and Juniper laced their fingers together, hardly aware of what was happening, so dreamlike was it. Details rose and fell, her mind unable to focus on any one thing for too long - the lock of hair twisted against that perfect neck, the little gold earrings tinkling as they moved, the shimmering hint of color bringing out dark eyes, the warmth of breath on her skin.
The music was faint, but did they even need it? The world itself had its beat, its pulse, and Juniper found it in the pull of the moon over their heads, in the swelling song of the insects, the hidden symphony of the nightingale. She could taste lavender on her tongue.
It seemed to go on forever, and then was over too soon. What was it that made Josephine pull away, fiddle with a lock of hair at her ear, tucking it behind? What had made her change her mind, or had they come to a natural end of the dance and Juniper had been so caught up that she had been unaware? Would that Josephine had been caught up too…
"The court longs to see your dancing again, Inquisitor." Gold earrings made their own music as the ambassador chastised another lock behind her ear. "Do be sure to dance with others so that they might see - it could only win you friends at this point, and help further our cause."
Ma Sulahn'nehn,
It is cheating, I think, to just give you the translation of those lines, but if you truly cannot figure them out, then I will give you a hint - I will translate one stanza for you, and I know that you are clever enough to figure out the rest once I give this to you.
Awed by her splendor
Stars near the lovely
Moon cover their own
Bright faces
When she
Is roundest and lights
Earth with her silver
I expect the poem to be translated in full with your next letter. There is a bottle of wine that I… liberated from Empress Celene's stores as reward when you have proven yourself.
Do not make me drink it alone, da'nehn.
-J