Reflections

So I wasn't planning on writing a DAI fanfic, but this wormed its way into my head as I was playing through again and wouldn't let go. It's a Trevelyan/Josephine fic, and the first chapter is pretty explicit (such a hardship, I know), so if that bothers you give me your address and I'll mail you a two year old hopped up on sugar and energy drinks, and you can let me know which you find more offensive.

Set shortly after they return to Skyhold after the duel in Orlais, an extension of the cut scene.

Part 1 is written from Trevelyan's POV. There is a part two, but it's written from the POV of everyone's favorite spymaster, because I got a kick out her not-so-veiled threats to the Inquisitor about her relationship with Josephine. I'll post it sometime next week.

I purposely did not give the Inquisitor a first name, in case I decide to write a longer story with a different Inquistor, I can do so.

Not beta-read, so any mistakes are my own.


We sit there, snuggled in front of the fireplace, nuzzling and necking, trading kisses and increasingly bolder touches.

Maker, but I love Josephine. The soft, breathy sighs that escape as I kiss along the baby-soft skin of her jawline. The hitch in her breathing as my tongue sweeps her mouth, sliding along the warmth of her own. The way her body shifts against mine, her fingers caressing the contours of battle-hardened muscles through the barriers of soft cotton that I favor when not fighting through hordes of demons and red templars.

My own fingers tentatively explore through layers of silk finery, probing with with ever-increasing curiosity the curves normally hidden by layers of brocade.

Josephine gasps when my fingers brush against the underside of her breast, body arching instinctively into my touch, head arching back, bringing her neck into contact with my lips. A breathy moan escapes her mouth as I gently nipped her pulse point, soothing the sensitive skin with a gentle kiss, my hands sliding alongside her ribs to the row of hidden buttons buried within the silken folds.

"Would you-" Kiss "-care to-" And another "-stay me this evening?" My lips close around the tender skin of her earlobe, savoring the breathy sigh that fell from her lips.

Her breath hitches in her throat, the sharp withdrawal of her body leaving me strangely bereft, my amber-colored eyes meeting her darker ones, searching for the sincerity behind my words, insecurity shrouding her features.

"I believe I would like that very much," Antivan accent caresses the words like smooth honey, her reluctance to withdraw from my embrace plainly evident as she deftly pushes to her feet, smaller hand slipping into my own, helping me rise to my own.

We cross my room, coming to a stop beside the edge of the intricately patterned duvet. My hands immediately go to the bottom of my tunic, intent on tugging the fabric over my head, when her tanned ones halt my progress, uncertain coffee-colored eyes meeting mine. Her hands replace mine along the edge of the fabric, pulling my tunic over my head as I raise my arms over my head to assist her in the task of disrobing me.

Her dark brown eyes roam over my skin, taking in the battle-hardened expanse of skin above my breastband, eyes falling to the thin strip of cloth that bound the soft flesh from other's eyes. Hesitantly, she reaches up, fingertips ghosting along a scar the ran song my left collarbone, the remnant of a demon's sharp claws.

"Does it hurt?" She queries softly, her roaming touch leaving trails of goose-pebbles along the skin where she caresses, long fingers stained with ink smudges from the never-ending missives required to keep the Inquisition afloat.

"No," I reply honestly, my own fingers plucking at the tiny, endless row of buttons hidden behind a strip of fabric cleverly concealed by tailoring. In truth, I barely remember I have it, my own sense of awareness dimmed from the chaos of battle and memory slightly muddied from the glasses of wine Josephine and I consumed.

After a seeming eternity, I manage to free the last button from its restrictive envelope, my hands slipping underneath the decadent fabric to explore the honey-colored skin beneath, my fingers teasingly exploring the flesh over her ribs. Josephine's breath catches in her throat, body tensing as my fingers trailed over the curve of her hip to the small of her back.

Feeling the Antivan tense under my fingertips, I pull back from the kiss, resting my forehead against hers and meeting her hesitant gaze with my own.

"Is this okay, Josephine?" My fingers still, the pressure I exert alongside her skin lightening as I search for the source of her hesitation. I watched as Josephine swallows, giving a curt nod in my direction, not quite meeting my gaze.

I frown, withdrawing my hand from underneath folds of fabric, my progress halted when the Antivan steps forward, her body pressing against mine. "Josephine?"

"It's fine." She says a touch too quickly, hesitant eyes meeting my own. "It's just… it's been…"

I nod, understanding dawning in my gaze. "For me, as well," I admit softly, resting my hands at a more acceptable location on the outside of her clothed hips.

Another long pause. "I suppose…I should tell you that I haven't…" Josephine's cheeks flush darkly "I mean I haven't…" her eyes dart to the ground, the flickering flames of the fireplace casting shadows that dance over her features.

Her words stumble across my mind, my own awareness coming far too slow.

I haven't…

My eyes dart up to meet hers, understanding dawning in my features. "You haven't done this before?"

It seems impossible for her features to flush even darker, the hue of her cheeks a near identical match to the crimson of the tapestries. I have never known Josephine to be silent for so long, but for a long while I am afraid I have rendered the ambassador mute.

"I was no more than a child when my parents sent me to Val Royeaux to finish my education," Josephine's voice is hesitant, lilting. She pauses, clearly weighing her words. "It was…not appropriate then for a young woman of my rank to engage in such conduct."

I nod, dipping my head in encouragement, allowing Josephine the chance to set the pace for the conversation.

"You remember our discussion on my time as a bard?"

I nod again, recalling how those warm brown eyes had teared as the Antivan had told me of inadvertently pushing her friend down the steps after the young man had drawn a knife on her during the grand Game.

"It was during my time as a bard that I met Leliana," Josephine pulls away gently, her arms raising across her chest protectively, absently rubbing at her biceps as her eyes take on a distant look, beginning to pace along the foot of my bed. "We were…I was…pursuing some information on a trading contract from a wealthy merchant for a rival company. He had thrown a grand fete just outside of Val Royeaux — everyone who was anyone was in attendance."

"You were partners then?" I struggle to keep the irrational surge of jealousy out from my voice at the thought of Josephine and Leliana engaged in other, more intimate activities. They had just been friends, after all, and even if they were more, the Antivan's past was of little concern.

"Goodness, no," Josephine lets out a toneless laugh, her eyes distant and unfocused. "Our bard masters hated each other. No, we would have been considered rivals at best. But at the time, we were each aware that the other was pursuing the same target. It was part of the game, you see, to get his secrets before the other bards in attendance at the party." She stops pacing, eyes staring sightlessly into the fireplace.

I slowly walked to where Josephine stood, shoulders taut with tension, firelight dancing in unseeing eyes. Unsure of whether or not my touch would be welcome, I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder, allowing the Antivan to set the pace for this conversation. Whatever it is that is pressing on her is clearly important.

"I had captured the attentions of the merchant's son, a young man of roughly my age who had just returned from the Free Marches. I'll admit, I was quite captivated by the tales of his adventures and of him, as well." Fingertips blanch slightly as they grip her biceps. "He provided me with a tour of the estate after the party, you see, and I was most eager to engage him in conversation to find out more about his father's business dealings."

Her pinky brushes my arm, searching for a bit of connection as she weaves her tale. I press my cheek next to hers, our bodies so close that I can feel the heat of her skin despite having lost my shirt some time ago.

"I thought we were entering another parlor but realized my mistake a few moments later, when the understanding dawned on me that we were in a bedroom-" A pause. "His bedroom, to be exact."

The fingers of my left hand curl around my right, a surge of anger coursing through my body as I realized where the tale was going. Josephine's eyes are distant, unseeing, trapped in the memory of those years long ago.

"He had locked the door behind me, and he wore the key to the bedroom on a small golden chain around his neck. He promised me I could return to the party if I would bestow upon him a small token of my affection in the form of a kiss."

I press closer to Josephine, hugging her tighter against my body, all jealousy gone as I listen to the pain laced into her voice.

"I was young, foolish, and naive," a slight hardening of her voice, "in matters of love," echoing our spymaster's earlier words of warning to me. "I innocently believed that he would be satisfied with a mere kiss. When he pressed for more, I thought to fight him off, foolishly thinking myself capable of fending him off when he began to take me against my will."

She is silent for so long I grow concerned that she has lost her words, my mind racing to fill in the blank spots of her tale.

"He managed to trap me on his bed, and was in the process of pushing up my petticoats when a dagger slipped around his throat, slitting him from ear to ear," Josephine shudders unseeingly, "my cries for help, it seemed, had not gone unnoticed."

I put two and two together. "Leliana." Grateful, to the spymaster for her timely intervention on behalf of my beloved.

Josephine nods slight. "Her bard master must have been extremely cross with her, for her actions surely ruined any chance of getting information on the merchant after the death of his son, but she and I remain close friends to this day."

I press a gentle kiss to her right temple. "I, for one, am grateful for her timely intervention."

Josephine nods, gradually twisting her body until she faces me, meeting my gaze, her eyes bright. "We kept in touch after I left Orlais, becoming dear friends. When she asked me to attend the Conclave as a representative for Antiva, I was only too happy to do so." Her hand slips up my arm, warm palm caressing my cheek. "Then we met and I found myself in the service of the Inquisition, much like yourself." I press a soft kiss along her palm, blinking slowly as her hand caresses my cheek. Warm brown eyes meet mine, filled with love and more than a hint of desire.

"I fell in love," her fingertips trace alongside my jaw, resting on my lips. "And find myself wanting more."

"Josephine," her name rolls off my tongue like silk. "We don't have to…"

Fingers press against my lips. "I want to," she whispers, eyes full with resolve. "Maker help me, I want this. I want to be with you." Her fingertips slide down the hollow of my throat, resting along the line of my collarbone. "But I lack experience in the matters of love." She pauses, the unspoken question hovering behind her eyes.

My face flushes slightly, "I scarcely have more," I respond bitterly, aware that it had caused a major scandal when I, youngest of the house Trevelyan, had been caught in the throes of passion of one of the serving girls. A scandal that had resulted in my ever pious parents to "send" said servant to Tevinter, and myself to the Chantry. Though she has always been too polite to ask, I know my history has discussed amongst my inner circle. There is simply no way Leliana would have let such important remain undisclosed to my other advisors, especially when I was a still a suspect in the death of Justinia.

"Will you—" Josephine pauses, meeting my gaze with her own, and I am grateful there is no hint of jealousy in her eyes. She rests a hand just above my breast. "Will you teach me what to do?"

My own hand comes to rest atop hers, bringing her fingertips to my mouth as I press my lips against the digits. "Are you sure Josephine?" my voice comes haltingly between ragged breaths and racing pulse.

Josephine nods, resolve steeling her eyes. "I want this. I want us." Closing the distance between us once more, Josephine presses her lips against my own, soft flesh parting as her tongue slides into my mouth, hands weaving into my brown tresses as if to pin me in place.

I slide my hands gently around her waist, pulling her closer into the kiss, my tongue engaging with her own as I cant my head to bring us ever closer. At the same time, my hands wander underneath the back of her blouse, slipping along the bare flesh to anchor in the small of her back.

Josephine moans softly into my mouth, her own fingertips slipping along my breast band, loosening the edges and beginning to unwrap the cloth from my torso.

I groan as the fabric parts from my body, those inexperienced hands beginning to trace over the curve of my breasts, taking the full weight of them into her hands, thumbs circling my taut nipples and then across, forcing me to draw a ragged breath at the undeniable eroticism of her explorations.

Seeking out her eyes with my own, I bring my hands up to the neck of her shirt, slowly parting the fabric, pushing the silk over tanned shoulders until it pooled in a puddle on the floor, kissing the smooth expanse of an exposed shoulder before unraveling her breast band, praying my own inexperience wouldn't show. I have not taken another lover since I was committed to the Chantry, unwilling to suffer yet another scandal that would shame the family name.

Whether or not that had been from an innate desire for forgiveness and perhaps reunion with my family, or to seek penance for my past I am wholly uncertain. My parents were quick enough to distance themselves from my actions when they believed I was to blame for Justinia's death.

I press my lips alongside the junction of her neck and shoulder, feeling the way her flesh pebbles beneath my mouth, her body arching into my touch as I slide my palms up to her breasts, rubbing the contrasting textures with my calloused fingertips.

Josephine moans softly, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of my back, mapping the textures of my skin as I bestowed increasingly bolder kisses along her flesh, reluctantly drawing my hands down to her own as I began to walk backwards towards the large bed in the middle of the room.

When the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed, I halt my progress, placing her hands on the waistband of my trews, our eyes meeting with heated passion as I smile at her encouragingly. Her fingers fumble only for a moment as she pulled the laces free, loosening the trews and pushing the offending clothing over my waist and hips, the soft leather pooling by my feet.

Her breath quickens, nodding encouragement as I stepped out of the pooled fabric, standing in no more than my small clothes. My lower lip catches between my teeth as I reached for her hips, fingers fumbling slightly as I unbutton her trews. Maker, why did they make these things with so many buttons? What happens when someone needs to use the chamber pot?

There, finally, it is done. Meeting Josephine's eyes, I wait for her to take the lead, then, at her nod, I slowly pull the trews down her legs, grateful that we had already removed boots and socks while warming in front of the fire.

Delicately stepping out of the pooled fabric, Josephine grabs me by my arm, pulling me to my feet. I stumbled, surprised by her strength, both of us falling haphazardly onto the bed, almost as if Josephine had planned it.

Unable to resist myself, I trace a finger along her hairline, stroking the baby-fine strands fallen free from her braided bun as I bring my lips to hers. I moan as her arms slip around my back, pulling me against her, naked skin sliding against naked skin, breast against breast, legs sliding against legs.

Josephine's fingertips trail along my spine, raising trails of gooseflesh in their wake. I gasp as those very same fingers slide beneath the waist of my small clothes over the soft swells of my buttocks.

My hips buck into her touch, my own body grunting in impatience as I quickly push to my feet and tug my small clothes down, eager to feel her skin against mine. Josephine's nose flares with arousal, quickly pushing down her own remaining undergarments, tossing them aside with a flick of her wrist.

"Maker, but you are beautiful," my own skin flushes as my eyes slide up her body, taking in the expanse of smooth, unblemished skin, the triangle of neatly trimmed curls at the juncture of her legs, her full, ample breasts heaving with the anticipation. Her cheeks flush darkly, which only endears her that much more to me.

Resting my knee alongside her own, I press my length alongside hers, bringing my lips to hers, my hands exploring gentle curves previously hidden by layers of ornate fabrics. Sliding a hand down her chest, I palm the soft mound of her breast, feeling its weight in my palm, thumb sweeping across hardened nipple as I allow my lips to trail along her jawline, latching onto her earlobe, teasing the soft flesh with teeth and tongue, her breathy moans quickening my pulse.

Josephine's fingertips dig into my back, her body arching into mine, one leg hooking around the back of my own, hips rocking into mine with increasing urgency. Soft, breathy cries and moans escape her lips as I nibble my way down the curve of her neck, placing a kiss along her breastbone before latching onto her closest breast and suckling it softly.

Her hips buck against my stomach as I suck at the firm bud, letting my free hand slide over the curve of her stomach, my touch growing ever lighter as my fingers dip into dampened curls, fingertip tracing along the crease of her lower lips, circling her entrance with my index finger, my thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves comprising her womanhood.

She is close now. I can smell her arousal in the air, feel her sweat-damp skin as it writhes against my own, hear every whispered plea. It is my intention to work her body with up to a fevered pitch until her very being is pulsating with the desire to be filled.

I start to trail my lips down her body, alternating gentle licks with softer kisses, drawing on my limited experience in matters of love as I reach the soft curls, inhaling of Josephine's scent deeply, savoring it for a seeming eternity before drawing my tongue through arousal-slicked folds, sliding a finger between her lower lips.

Her hips arch into my ministrations, a sharp cry escaping her lips, her hands grabbing the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair, effectively pinning me in place. It is not an undue hardship as she tastes absolutely divine. I alternate with my gentle kisses and soft licks, savoring the salty sweetness as it rolls off my tongue. Her folds are thick with the scent of her arousal, her hips alternately arching towards me and pulling back, smooth syllables of Antivan falling from her lips like honey, words of passion and of love.

My lips latch onto her bud, flicking my tongue across it at the same time as I slip my forefinger into her channel, gently exploring her walls as I inch inside. Josephine gasps at the intrusion, and, my concentration broken, I start to withdrawal my finger.

"No." My motions pause, my brown eyes filled with concern. Had I caused my loved one discomfort? But Josephine grabs my wrist, halting its withdrawal, those dark eyes full with love and trust. "Stay… inside." A pause, and then a soft, almost plaintive plea. "Please."

My throat robbed of all moisture, I nod, pressing a soft kiss just above her mound, resuming my ministrations, my finger slipping inside her once more, my mouth kissing her lower lips once more, finding that exquisitely sensitive bundle and teasing it with gentle flicks of my tongue.

My finger reaches her barrier, and here I halt my attentions, increasing the motions of my tongue against her bud. She is close, and I ignore the slight pain of her hands tangled in my hair, focusing instead on her body tensing beneath mine.

She comes with a sharp cry, her body arching into my touch, and I slide my finger the rest of the way in, my tongue sliding through her folds, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves, willing my hand to stay still, allowing her time to adjust to the intrusion, though I try to draw the orgasm out with my lips and tongue, to prolong her pleasure as much as possible.

After a seeming eternity, Josephine collapses to the bed, twitching with the aftershocks of her climax, and with one final kiss, I slide my way back up her body, trailing kisses along the sweat-soaked skin, pressing a soft kiss against her pulse point, trailing the fingers of my free hand across her fluttering brow. Her eyelids remain closed, brow furrowed in concentration. I start to tentatively ease my finger out of her swollen channel, her hips arching against my wrist before clamping her legs shut and preventing me from withdrawing completely.

"Josephine?"

Slowly, her eyes open, a look of absolute adoration and devotion meeting my own.

"I… just want to remember this feeling," she whispers, and a smile rises unbidden to my lips. I prop myself up on my elbow, fingers brushing a sweat-soaked tendril of hair from its place against her forehead, pressing my lips against her own, which quickly part in invitation.

My tongue darts out, playfully twining with hers, and slowly I begin to pump my finger in and out of her body, exploring the silky sweetness of her walls, her own hips rising to meet my gentle thrusts, the Antivan's breath quickening.

Easing a second finger inside to join the first, I began to set a slow, yet steady rhythm, fingertips stroking along inner walls, circling her bundle of nerves with my thumb, bringing her to another slower peak, catching her sharp cries of pleasure in a passionate kiss that lingers long after her body finally stills.

I gently ease my fingers from her passage, encircling an arm around her waist, stretching my length alongside hers. Josephine wraps her arms around my hips, resting her head against my shoulder. I would find my own pleasure later, for now, I am happy to rest alongside my love.


I awake to the press of hands against my naked skin, fingertips trailing light touches along my collarbone, down my sternum, and across my ribs. I blink, disoriented at first as to the time and location, gradually turning my head and exhaling a sigh of relief at the sight of Josephine next to me, her brow furrowed in the most adorable look of concentration as her fingers map my naked skin. She has yet to realize I have woken up, and in the most delectable way possible.

"Feels good," I mumble, though I can't be certain the words come out in more than a garbled mess. She startles, her eyes meeting mine, though the shock is brief as she realizes she's become the focus of my attentions. Josephine leans up, her lips capturing mine in a kiss that is far from chaste, our lips curling into a mutual smiles that betray the giddiness of two young lovers enjoying the soft afterglow of the early morning.

Her hand caresses my cheek, thumb rubbing a faded scar just below my chin, her tongue lingering against my lower lip before she presses a chaste kiss against the corner of my mouth. Her eyes meet mine and are filled with emotion that's not difficult to identify. "Thank you," Josephine whispers. "You were a most attentive lover."

My cheeks flush with no small amount of embarrassment. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," I reply honestly, my own body tensing in anticipation as her hands map previously unexplored skin.

"Very much so," her voice has taken on a more sensual quality, her fingertips circle rapidly hardening nipples as she shifts to bring even more of us into contact. "But now it's my turn to return the favor."

I can't help but gasp as her mouth brushes along the angle of my jaw, lips searching and finding my pulse point, her hands cupping and then kneading my breasts with rapidly growing confidence.

"I-" my voice trails off with a hiss as those full lips work their way down my neck, latching onto the junction with soft bite that is immediately soothed with her tongue. I groan softly as she shifts, her body covering mine, fingers trailing over taut stomach muscles to tangle in the short, neatly trimmed curls that conceal my core.

Josephine's hands still slightly, capturing her lip between her teeth as her brow furrows in concentration, sliding her fingers though the slickness seeping from my body. She explores my outer folds with increasing confidence, then my inner folds, then finally, her thumb presses against my sensitive bundle, drawing a ragged cry from my lips as she slides a finger into the silky wetness that marks my increasing arousal.

Her mouth is mapping its way across my chest, her tongue circling my hardened nipple as a second finger slides in to meet the first, a slight stretch that is more arousing than discomforting, and my breath hitches in my throat when those eager lips began to kiss their way down my chest, over the slight curve of my abdomen. My legs seem to fall apart on their own accord, allowing the Antivan plenty of room to continue her ministrations lower, which she does with increasing enthusiasm, nuzzling and then tasting the moisture seeping from my lower folds with an ever-growing curiosity that draws the same intense focus she uses when conducting the most delicate of negotiations.

"Josephine!" I gasp, her name falling from my lips in benediction as her tongue circles then laps at the pearl at the apex of my crease, and then all speech fails me as she responds with ever-increasing vigor to my increasing cries. Gentle fingers pump inside of me, filling me with the most delightfully erotic burn, exploring my most sensitive of spaces with an overt enthusiasm, my ever increasing cries seemingly spurring her on.

I hover on the edge of a precipice, balancing on the ledge for a seeming eternity, her fingers inadvertently brushing against the sensitive ridge of tissue inside my core, pulling me over into the throes of fiery passion, fisting into the sheets, as she drinks of the sudden influx of moisture of my climax.

I collapse, completely and utterly spent, my body twitching with the aftershocks of my passion. It strikes me that, even though I've had a prior sexual encounter, this may be the first time I'd actually made love.

Josephine presses a gentle kiss against my womanhood, inhaling the musky scent of my arousal, seemingly unable to resist one final swipe of her tongue between my need-slicked folds, gradually making her way up my body, her touch shifting from more arousing to comforting.

Eventually she withdraws her fingers, stroking soothing circles around my navel, her temple nestled into the crook of my shoulder.

We linger in silence for a long while, my fingers absently tracing circles through her own tresses, the touch of her fingertips soothing my skin. Eventually, I shift, tugging the duvet over our joined bodies before pressing a kiss atop the crown of her head.

I allow my eyes to drift closed, grateful that all is finally right in my little corner of the world. Corypheus is still out there, confronting him can wait, at least, until the morning.