Dragon Age Fic: Corrections – Josephine/M!Inquisitor (NC-17) 3/?

[anxiousgeek.livejournal.com]

Title: Corrections
Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition
Rating: Adult
Character/Pairing: Josephine/M!Inquisitor
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Smut, romance, angst, fluff.
Summary: Josephine and Maxwell Travelyan met for the first time at Lady Trevelyan’s summer ball when they were young adults. Now, a decade later and Max is the Herald and Josephine his Ambassador.
Notes: Another Dragon Age Kink Meme prompt with a life of it’s own.  A WIP. Damn these prompts.

Making Friends

Josephine was pretty sure they were friends.

They certainly acted like friends, but it was hard to her to tell because every interaction was filled with reminders of their past together and laced with flirtations. And he flirted with everyone – including Minaeve. The young mage had developed a bit of a crush on Solas though, and found his attentions a little annoying but did appreciate the endless items he gave her to help in her research.

Josephine wasn’t sure how she felt about the flirting either. The flirting with her or with Minaeve. She so often wished he would take her seriously but then he would be serious and it overwhelmed her a little.

“Do you ever leave your desk?” Maxwell asked, leaning against it, wrinkling some of her papers.

“Yes. I do sleep.”

“I know for a fact you sleep at your desk,” he said with that cocky grin he hadn’t grown out of. The cocky grin she still seem to be attracted too. He chuckled even as she gave him a disapproving frown and pulled the papers from beneath his bottom.

“I do not!” she said, feeling the blush on her cheeks, eyeing Minaeve who was leaning on her table smiling.

“I’ve caught you there Josie,” he told her, “who do you think it covering you with a blanket?”

Josephine looked over at Minaeve who just nodded, and she frowned. She hadn’t been expecting that and snapped at him.

“Well thank you but it’s not necessary.”

“I know it’s not, but we’re friends, I care about you,” he grumbled back, “not that you make it easy,” he added.

“I’m going for a walk,” Minaeve said, slipping out of the door and leaving them alone.

“What’s wrong Josie? I thought we were friends.”

“Josephine,” she corrected.

“Josie,” he continued, ignoring her. “You support me, advise me – I mean, I went to the mages on your recommendation – I’m just trying to do the same for you.”

He reached out and took her hand, that serious look back on her face and for a moment she thought he might kiss her.

She wasn’t completely against the idea.

She gasped, surprising herself and pulled her hand away.

“I appreciate you looking out for me Herald,” she said and Max groaned.

“I thought I’d managed to convince you to call me Max when we’re alone.”

“Maxwell,” she corrected him.

“You’re going to be calling me Maxwell when we’re old and grey aren’t you.”

“Yes,” she told him, trying not to wonder about what he was implying. Or not implying.

“Good thing you’re so beautiful Josie,” he said with a grin.

She threw her quill at him. Suddenly feeling a lot more light hearted about him – because of him.

Damn him.

“Herald,” she said with a grin and he groaned again. “I’m sure you have more important duties to be attending to than distracting me from mine.”

“Fine, fine, I know when I’m not wanted,” he said, and she smiled. “I actually just came to say goodbye. I’m going to meet this Iron Bull on the Storm Coast.”

“Oh, you will be careful won’t you.”

The words slipped free without her usual filter, the tone too, and he smiled warmly at her as he stood.

“I’m the Herald of Andraste,” he said, “A Trevelyan, a great swordsman, and the best lover you will ever have.”

She scoffed and he laughed.

“All true,” he added.

“Oh really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Yep, I mean, you taught me everything I know.”

“Maxwell, if you have not learnt anything else since you were 21 I believe I am going to be sorely disappointed.”

“Perhaps I’ll show when I get back,” he said, taking her hand again and this time going to kiss it. She laughed, pulling it away.

“I think not,” she said.

“Damn.”

He finally stood and headed out, but she stopped him at the door.

“Do be careful,” she said, not smiling this time.

“Ah so you do care,” he said grinning.

“No, I would just hate to be the one to tell your mother you’ve lost a limb fighting giants on the Storm Coast. She thinks you preach to the masses about the Maker.”

“If she really knew what I did she would be down here demanding I be careful and calling me Maxwell as well. I don’t need two of you bossing me around,” he said.

“I’ll see you soon…Maxwell.”

“One day you’ll be screaming Max,” he said with a wink walking out the door.

“In frustration!” she called after him.

She could hear him laughing all the way out of the chantry and it made her smile, even if the rest of him confused her no end.

He came back with a Qunari spy and his mercenary group, several interesting items for Minaeve, a lot of bruises from fighting the giant and flowers. For Josephine. They were on her desk with a note with Josie written on it. Other than Maxwell, only Leliana called her Josie, only Leliana knew her well enough to call her Josie. She moved them to the little room in the chantry she shared with Leliana and Seeker Pentaghast.

“The Herald brought you flowers,” Leliana said, fingering the petal of one where they sat on the little beside table between their beds, twirling the note he had left in her hand.

“From the Storm Coast, yes,” she said, not looking at her friend.

“Well, I do not suppose there is much to get a lady from the Storm Coast.”

“That’s what he said yes,” Josephine said, snatching the note back and shoving it into her drawer. Leliana chuckled.

“What else did he say?” she asked.

“About what?”

“About the flowers Josie.”

“I didn’t ask him anything about them. I know everything I need to know.”

“You know why he bought them for you.”

Josephine frowned at her, Leliana still idly playing with the flowers.

“I know why he bought them Leliana,” she said, “he is trying to get into my sm-” she paused, “into my bed again.” The spy chuckled.

“And you’re against this.”

“Yes, it’s inappropriate,” she said.

“Is that the only matter of contention?”

“I am very busy Leliana, aren’t you tired?”

“Yes, but now I find I am much more interested in how you feel about our dear Herald.”

“I feel little,” Josephine said, looking away from her once more and to the flowers on her drawer, “I respect him and I…admire him.”

“Hmmmm.”

Leliana stood up straight then, a grin on her face, starting to remove her mail.

“When you are ready to talk about it properly my dear you know where to find me.”

“In the next bed as always my friend, but there is nothing to talk about.”

There was plenty to talk about. Josephine just wasn’t sure how to process it all and she was tired. Always tired. She crawled into her bed and closed her eyes, listening to Leliana hum to herself as she undressed. She fell asleep to the sound of her friends voice, memories of their time in Val Royeaux bubbling up in her mind.

“I bought you flowers to thank you,” Max said, settling down on the edge of her desk as usual and folding his arms. Minaeve was gone, out in the village, and he had let the door slam shut behind him to get her attention.

She frowned at him, sitting back in her chair to see him better.

“For what?”

“For being my friend,” h said a little confused himself it seemed. “I appreciate your support Josie, your friendship means a lot to me.”

That serious tone again, not a hint of a smile or a joke and when she didn’t reply he sighed and went to leave.

“I just thought -”

“I know what you thought, I spoke to Leliana.”

“I’m sorry Herald,” she said, “Maxwell,” she corrected herself. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s okay.”

He smiled then, reaching out to take her hand. She accepted, letting him squeeze her hand before letting go and relaxing a little.

“I will admit, I would love to spend another night with you, but your friendship – my gratitude – does not hinge on it.”

“I’m glad,” she said, “and I’m sorry to have made such a crass assumption.”

“So,” he said after a fashion, “what are my chances of getting into your smalls?”

She threw a mostly empty inkwell at him, splashing a few drops over her desk and hitting his armour. He laughed at her, leaning over and kissing her on the top of her head. She blushed bright red.

“Thank you Josie,” he said softly.

She didn’t bother to correct him as he left.