Dragon Age Fic: Corrections – Josephine/M!Inquisitor (NC-17) 11/11

[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.

Josephine grabbed Maxwell's hand as he passed by the balcony, pulling him through the curtains, laughing as he almost fell over. She remembered doing this before, a long time ago for that very first time but she didn't know him at all back then – now she knew everything, all of his secrets. She loved his secrets. Loved him.

“Maker Josie,” he said, and she hushed him with a quick kiss. He stood up straight running his hands down her side and over her distended belly.

“Sorry my love,” she said, with a smile.

“Are you well?”

“Tired.”

“I'm not surprised, Maxwell Trevelyan the Second kept you awake most of the night.”

“We are not calling her that,” she said, rubbing her hand over her bump, soothing the stirring baby within. “And anyway, this is another girl.”

Maxwell frowned.

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

“The same as I was last time.”

“Cole.”

“Cole,” she said, with a smile.

“Josephine Trevelyan the second?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.

“No.”

“Michelle wants to call the baby Alma.”

“This is why toddlers do not get a say in the naming of their siblings. My mother informed me once I wanted to call Yvette Lucky because I had just lost my cat of the same name. I also wanted to call my brother Frederic Tea pot.”

“Tea Pot?” he asked.

“Indeed. I still think it would suit him.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her as close as he could.

“My mother will want to spend more time with you before we retire my love,” he said.

“Perhaps,” she said. “And we cannot ran away as quickly as we once could.”

“Come dance with me,” he said. “We'll dance a little longer then I'll take you to bed.”

“Do you promise?” she asked, kissing him on the lips, feeling his hands sweep up her sides and over her sensitive breasts. He chuckled when she gasped, he loved the way her body changed when she was pregnant, had enjoyed discovering all the subtle differences all over again. She hated how she looked however when she was pregnant like this, even though she had done this before. However Maxwell always made her feel beautiful, no matter what state she was in.

“I promise. One dance and then bed.”

She nodded, and took his hand to let him lead her through the curtains and back into the ball. He spun her around carefully as they reached the dance floor and she laughed, bumping into several others; she was a little ungraceful at seven months with child.

“This is everything I wanted in life,” he said, as they moved a little more sedately, carefully. Seven months, and the second time around and she was still trying to figure out how to move around with any sort of grace. Or without bumping into everything and everyone. She may not like the way her body changed or the way she looked, but the way Maxwell continued to worship her made her feel a lot better about herself.

The world had been ending once and Maxwell had been able to make her feel like nothing was wrong at all.

“You wanted to become the most important religious figurehead of our time, defeat one of the original magisters, live in a huge fortress in the mountains with your pregnant wife, your daughter and a strange assortment of companions?” she asked smiling, trying not to laugh.

“Well, perhaps not that exactly,” he said, laughing and leaning forward to kiss her. He didn't care for the propriety of the Ostwick court, not when it came to her.

“Then what my lord,” she asked.

“You,” he said, “this dance, this child. Michelle.”

“Heavens the things you say,” she said, with a sigh. “Let's go.”

“No rush my lady,” he said.

“Every rush my love,” she said. “Your mother is headed this way and I know she wants the baby to be named after her.”

“Never,” he muttered quietly, glancing over his shoulder and seeing his mother weaving through the dancers towards them. “I am not calling my daughter Trumare.”

“Then we should move quickly.”

He nodded and grabbed her hand, pulling his wife through the dancers to the edge of the floor, as well as he could when she was so very pregnant, before kissing her quickly on the lips and pulling her out into the estate.

“To bed my lady?” he asked.

“Let's check on Michelle,” she said, smiling at him. “Then you can take me to bed and have your way with me.”

He laughed at that, running his hand over her belly.

“I love you Josie.”

“I love you too Maxwell,” she said, taking his hand once more as they headed up the stairs together.

“Max,” he corrected her.

“Josephine,” she told him.