(no subject)

[ladyoflions]

Skyhold is a wonder to behold, always something new each day and it’s captivated Rosalie from the very first day they arrived. It’s like a keep out of a tale, soldiers bustling about, templers that call her Lady Rosalie and give her little bows and Rosie can’t deny that she’s flirted with some of them. It was all in good fun after all, just a bit of sweetness and she knows from the way they flush they’ve likely been given a stern talking to by her brother, who had likely been warned of her nature by their sister. Rude, really, when Bran was a million times worse than she could ever be.

But it’s nice to be here. Nice to see Cullen, though the man is much a stranger to her these days. Interacting with him is often awkward, Mia falling easily into her role of elder of the family even here, and Bran still back at South Reach with his son. Missing all the excitement he had bemoaned before making her promise to write to him, and write she has. Pages on pages of letters, from the places she’s seen and the food they’ve ate, to the stories she’s heard and the people she’s met.

And if perhaps those pages include dense paragraphs on the Lady Inquisitor… well, it perfectly normal really. Lady Kaia Trevelyan was a woman to be respected, to be admired. Sure she was nothing like the lady Rosie had imagined, preferring breaches even in her downtime and hair cut into a short mess but there’s something about the woman that captivates her. Her accent, the way she walks with such confident authority. The muscles in her arms from years of fighting and her smile. Maker it makes something in her clench, makes her cheeks burn and her heart race and she never thought she could feel like this. Not for a woman, at least.

But she’s the Inquisitor. A Lady by blood, while Rosie knows they only call her one due to her brother’s rank. She’s just some simple village girl, playing at pretty dresses whenever she can beg Mia for enough silk to make such a thing. There’s callouses on her hands from sewing, from embroidery, and she will never be a lady. She doubts the Inquisitor would ever notice her either, not with any seriousness. She’s a worse flirt than Bran is, and Rosie is near certain that her true affections lie with Ambassador Montilyet. A woman who suits her much more, that’s for certain.

It makes it difficult really. She’s never felt this sort of ache, and she tries her best to hide it. Being grateful she’s old enough that no one protests her taking a cup of wine with dinner, though Mia raises a brow with the second. It’s not that formal a thing, just the Inquisitor and her Inner Circle, and the Rutherford sisters. It’s intimate and Rosie finds herself despairing, stomach twisting as she watches Kaia flirt with the Lady Ambassador once again and she can’t do this, she needs some fresh air, feeling sick as she rises and whispers her excuses to Mia before dashing off, pushing through the necessary doors to escape to the little courtyard of Skyhold and the air is crisp, fresh. She can breath here and her shoulders shake as she presses hands to her cheeks, blinding herself for a moment as she speaks allowed.

“You’re such a fool Rosalie…”