“It is done.” Leliana’s words are brusque, simple, the first she’s spoken since arriving back at Skyhold. She doesn’t mean for her greeting to be so ominous, but that’s how she probably looks in the low candlelight of her and Josephine’s bed chamber with her hood still over her head.
Luckily, Josephine doesn’t seem perturbed by it.
“Welcome back,” she says, setting the book in her hands aside on the bedside table. “I trust it went well?”
Leliana nods, pulling off her hood, unbuckling her boots, and starting to get undressed. She’d undertaken this operation herself at the Inquisitor’s request, and though it had been gruelling, she’s satisfied.
“I still think Lady Adaar should have let me handle this one,” Josephine continues. Leliana can feel Josephine watching her from the bed, eyes sharp and keen like the very best of bards, though there’s love there in her gaze as always.
“You were already busy, and it was urgent. It was up to me.”
“I understand. I would never doubt you, Leliana. You know that, yes?”
“I know.” Leliana smiles, peeling off the metaphorical Nightingale mask and truly relaxing at last. She climbs into bed, presses a kiss to Josephine’s cheek, and blows out the candle on the nightstand. She’s spent so much time in the shadows and the dark that she adjusts to the darkness immediately, but even despite that, it’s here – warm with Josephine – that she’ll always feel the safest.