Josephine Montilyet and S’vari Lavellan Montilyet take a moment to remember the long life they’ve had together
Written for @montilyetweek Day 5: A Night At the Opera.
You can also find the fic here on Ao3
Dedicated to my wife, may we be so lucky
“Do you remember this one?”
Josephine raised an eyebrow at her wife, a smile crinkling at her lips.
“My love, do you truly think that I’ve grown so old that I’ve forgotten?” Josephine looked down at the program, thumb brushing over the embossed title as she let herself drift into the memories. “I wanted to show you some Orlesian culture, so I took you to this very show. On the first night of the Exalted Council.”
She reached out to take S’vari’s hand, lacing their fingers together.
“We returned to our quarters. You proposed. I said yes. And we wed that very night, hidden away in a chapel with only Mother Giselle as witness.”
It was one of the happiest moments of her life. The memory was as fresh as ever, warm and welcome.
S’vari pulled Josephine’s hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“All those years ago.” She let out a soft chuckle. “Gods, we were so young then.”
Josephine looked over at her wife. The years had passed, often times not kindly. Wounds were dealt, poorly healed and remained still as scars. Hair turned grey, then white. Skin crinkled, creased and folded. Bodies got frailer, stiffer, thinner. Their children had been born and were now fully grown, living lives outside their parents. They had buried more friends and family than felt fair. Born witness to the world trying to shatter itself to pieces, held it together through blood, sweat and tears. So many things, lost to the passage of time, gone for good.
But oh, how wonderfully they had lived.
Josephine squeezed S’vari’s hand gently, feeling their well-worn marriage bands clink together as she did.
I don't have much to offer in the way of Josephine week, but this idea possessed me late at night while I was trying to sleep.
This is more of a character study of my own OC rather than Josie herself, but I feel like it could fit, given the letter is addressed to her.
@montilyetweek if you don't think this fits, I understand!
This is written in a shared universe which includes @ohimjustabard, @justskipit and @natsora.
Josephine is married to Inquisitor S'Vari Lavellen, owned by @ohimjustabard.
Lady Josephine,
Aya has told me that should I wish to, I am allowed to refer to you and S’Vari as my mothers.
I am… unsure if I can do that yet.
I have never truly known a mother figure, raised as I was.
Being moved about as I grew older. The guardians in my life only ever wished to be referred to by name or their titles.
The idea gives me a feeling I do not recognise. I feel it when I receive your care packages. I feel it when Lady S’Vari visits and embraces me as she does Aya.
I think it may be love?
Is that what it feels like? To be loved, to love someone?
I don’t know if I have experienced it before.
Please do not take my formality as a slight on your or Lady S’Vari’s kindness.
I truly and deeply appreciate you, what you’ve done for me. My relationship with Aya has been some of the greatest months of my life and it is a joy to have her as a friend … perhaps as a sister.
All of this is new to me. The thought of a family. It has taken time for it to settle for me. I believe it still is.
Did Aya tell you that I cried the first time I received a care package from you?
…I had never received anything so grand in my life. If cookies and knitted socks could be called grand.
Thank you, Lady Josephine.
Mother. Mamma?
It will take some getting used too.
All the best,
Esha.
(Is this where I should also add ‘with all my love’ as you do?)
Esha reread the letter and twisted the quill in her fingers, staring at the words that she had written with growing trepidation.
Family. It was such an abstract concept.
She looked over towards the soft, knitted socks that sat atop her packed bags that she had fought with herself to bring on thief fade excursion and felt that strange feeling in her chest.
She fidgeted with the edge of the paper before folding it up.
Esha hesitated, unfolded it and reached over for one of her threads, the physical strings that she liked to fidget and play with. She cut a length of that from the spool and placed it in the letter.
I like strings and threads.
The included length is from my favourite spool.
I wanted to share it with you as well.
She added the words below her signature, feeling a little silly. Her face burned, but she folded the letter, tucked it away and sealed it.
Esha would pass it to Vorgoth. He would send it after the two of them departed for their Fade excursion.
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