Chapter Text
Ariadne was no stranger to a duel. She had watched Maxwell duel for his wife’s hand and her father duel to maintain the dignity of House Trevelyan when some noble slighted them at Aunt Lucille’s ball.
Never in her life had she expected to duel for the honour of another woman’s hand. This was quite possibly the most exciting way she could bring shame to her family. It was also something the world would have to accept, as Ariadne was the one fighting off Corypheus. Now that there was one thing she desperately wanted for her future, it was up to her to claim it. There wasn’t a world where she would let someone take away the one thing she chose for herself in this whole Inquisition.
Duels were just as much battle skill as they were spectacle. Ariadne intended to deliver. Trevelyan women were usually the warriors of the family, so much so that ceremonial armours and formal armours were almost always accompanied by loose, calf-height skirts, if not a full dress. Her formal breastplate was destroyed alongside the Temple of Sacred Ashes.
She requested her own version of the Trevelyan family armour from Dagna and Harritt. The cuirass was made of smooth silverite, boasting her intricate family crest engraved into the armour, surrounded with a woven border integrating the Inquisition's symbol. Wyvern scale lamellar protected her shoulders and upper arms, allowing her dress to show through on her forearms and to highlight her skill with the blade. Any decent Trevelyan warrior's dress would be intact by the end of battle. Her waist would boast a thick leather belt painted with a simple repeating design. Off the base of the belt hung two panels of leather lamellar, offering some protection to her thighs.
Lastly, she commissioned a special circlet. As Lady Inquisitor, she took many steps to portray herself as a woman of austere tastes. Her dresses were nicer than most of her followers, and her armour was clearly much better than the average soldier's, but she hoped her work on the fortress and the investment into her people showed that she was not another noble overtaxing her people. She also never wore a crown, circlet, or any fancy hat. She preferred her head to be protected by a helmet, but the warrior women of house Trevelyan wore their hair in braids and adorned their foreheads with beautiful circlets and temple rings. She would do such.
One day, she received a letter confirming the time and place of the duel. In the middle of Val Royeaux. That would do perfectly. A week before the duel, she snuck out of Skyhold in the dark of nighty atop a normal horse, for once. Her new armour was stored in the saddle bags, as she made her way to the royal city of Orlais.
The day of, she recited the prayer before the siege of Minrathous, as she prepared for battle, first putting on an underdress. Her embroidered chemise came next, bearing the intricate designs of blue feathers and blocks of painted fabric. Her new armour pieces followed, completed by belt. As she placed the circlet on, she looked into the mirror for the first time. She looked as regal as her sister.
"My Maker, know my heart: Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain," she recited. In that moment, it didn't matter how real Andraste or the Maker were. What mattered was the choice before her, the active rejection of a future chosen for her and a different future chosen for Josephine. If judgement day came, the Maker would know in this moment she was guided by courage, duty, and honour.
Just before noon, Ariadne Trevelyan waited near the appointed spot. She was observing the crowd in the area, pleased that there would be plenty of people to observe her victory. Then she saw him. Lord Otranto. He stood out from the masked Orlesians.
He introduced himself, threw her a sword. A rapier. Not her preferred weapon, but one she could use. They exchanged a few words before they began dueling in earnest. While she adapted to the new weapon in her left hand, Otranto pressed his advantage. He clearly was familiar with swordplay.
Their blades met two, three, four times. Each time, she managed to parry his onslaught of swipes. "Not bad, Inquisitor. It's a shame the fun won't last," he crowed, stabbing towards her left breast.
She stepped away and returned with a jab to his left thigh, which he barely dodged away from. A slight graze, perhaps. "It will be a shame, when Lady Trevelyan leaves with the right to Josephine's hand. The Inquisitor couldn't be bothered to show up," she taunted in return. The rapier was feeling better, but it still wasn't quite right. She deflected a few more blows coming her way.
"Oh, that backwater house?" he laughed. "The only thing they produce are mediocre parties from an ancient dowager."
Ariadne would have felt insulted if she cared about Otranto's opinion. She dared not falter here. Focused on the incoming blows, she swiped away two more before pressing back onto the attack. "As if the Otrantos are known for more than cheating the Terrazas. Oh wait, am I not supposed to say that here?" she ridiculed.
That sent her opponent into a flurry. Otranto began charging her, pushing her back closer to the crowd. She needed to think quickly, to ensure that no bystanders got involved. "You brought that slander here? It's good that Lady Montilyet isn't here, as exquisite as I have heard her appearance to be," he jabbed, a few wild swings ringing off the lamellar on her shoulders. "It would be a shame to explain to my betrothed why I've skewered the Inquisitor."
Ariadne's body took over while her brain refused to give up. She drove him back with a series of stabs, until they locked blades. "Oh don't worry. I'll be sure to tell her you fought bravely," she spat, staring at him with more fury than she'd ever felt before.
It all disappeared the moment she heard Josephine cry out for the duel to stop. She almost immediately lowered her weapon and sought out her girlfriend in the crowd. The modicum of satisfaction she felt watching her brush off Otranto to speak to her disappeared when she demanded, "What do you think you are doing?"
She blinked a few times before helplessly gesturing to Otranto. "He- If I dueled him dishonour would fall on my family and myself, not yours. That and I really couldn't stand the idea of you marrying him," she explained. Ariadne had never felt so strongly about doing something. Of course she should have asked if this was something Josephine wanted. Stupidly impetuous, Ariadne was. That's what Ophelia would say.
"You don't get to decide that for me. Do not forget that the Inquisition needs you. I need you. And yet you threw yourself into danger! Why do this? Why risk everything we've built? Why risk your life?" she implored. Ari couldn't determine whether Josephine was angry, hurt, confused, or betrayed. Maybe some combination. She hated she caused this.
Josephine deserved the truth. "It's because I'm in love with you!" she responded. She let her weapon drop to the ground. The small surprise on Josephine's face and sappy smile drowned out the crowd around her. "Y- you do?" she asked softly, stepping toward Ariadne.
"Maker, I love you so much. It's a terrible affliction I couldn't get rid of even if I wanted to. It makes me incredibly selfish and absolutely despise the idea of seeing the woman I love married to someone else," she confessed. Josephine responded even better than she could have imagined. Her girlfriend threw herself into Ariadne's strong arms and kissed her passionately for all of Orlais to see. There they declared through action that they objected to hiding their love. That two women were openly loving each other, and one of them just happened to be the Lady Inquisitor. When they finally broke the kiss, Josephine whispered, "I love you too." It was only for Ariadne to hear.
Lord Otranto awkwardly cleared his throat behind them. "Ahem. I had assumed you were engaged in a passionate or convenient affair. I am not fool enough to stand in the way of true affection. The Otrantos regretfully withdraw the terms of our agreement," he announced, with a curt bow.
"Thank you," Josephine responded with a curtsy.
"Do not thank me. I know when I am outmatched," he stated, withdrawing from the two of them. The man disappeared into the dispersing crowd.
"Just because I love you doesn't mean I'm not cross with you," Josephine tutted, once they had less of an audience. With a sigh, she groaned, "But did you really have to get such beautiful armour? And the dress? Gah, I don't know what to do with you!"
Ariadne's head was still spinning with the events of the afternoon, but her tongue knew exactly what to say. "Why don't you help me take off this armour as a thank you for breaking off that proposal? I'm sure I can think of many ways I can apologise to you," she whispered, letting desire creep into her voice.
Based on the look on Josephine's face, they were about to get really busy. "Where are you staying?" Josephine demanded. "I hope you aren't too attached to that dress because I really need to tear it off you."
With a laugh, she led Josephine to the apartments Gaspard had kindly lent to her to make good on her promise.