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Chapter Text

The clasp strained, the stitching fraying. There were numerous repairs to the straps, and to the loops holding the clasp. Adaar arranged her breast band, picking at the hems. She was going to have to make a trip to Val Royeaux soon before the clasp gave out.

Her other bands were in no better shape. One of them was tucked in her desk, needle pinned through it partially sewn up. Another had a busted hem, and a third was no longer in shape.

Of course she could speak to the quartermaster, but that would mean giving her measurements to a tailor she didn't know. There was a skilled elf in Val Royeaux who was discreet and fashionable, and most importantly knew how to flatten her form without damaging her body in the process. The cost was higher - after all, she had to have them made specially and mailing them back and forth was tiresome and inefficient.

This one was holding out. Only by sheer luck.

Adaar hated her breasts. They got in the way. People stared. They stopped paying attention to her.They couldn't be put into usual breast bands. They bounced and they weren't like other breasts.

Human breasts were a nice shape. They made sense. They were heavier, surprisingly enough. Elves didn't generally have much to worry about either, and dwarves, whilst possessing cushiony bosoms, were at least in proportion to the rest of their bodies. Qunari had a tough texture to their skin - it was harder to pierce than human or elvhen skin, and held its shape against the laws of gravity.

One time they'd come in handy smothering an assassin who had been sent from a rival mercenary group. That was about it though. Mostly they made people weird out, if they weren't already being weirded out from the fact that Adaar was a six foot something grey-bronze giant with broken horns, sharp teeth, and black sclera. She had clipped her claws since she was young but they were scary to anyone not Qunari.

She had considered trying to shrink her breasts with magic, then decided it was too risky. Knowing her luck, it would have backfired.

Spectacularly.

Like her attempt to be involved in one of Dagna's experiments.

Huffing, Adaar checked the clasp once more, smoothing the bands so it would lie flat. It wasn't a perfect fit - indeed, her shirt was a bit tighter over her chest - but it would have to do. Nobody would notice that.

Except maybe Sera, but Adaar wasn't intending on taking the rogue with her to Val Royeaux. There was this meeting with her advisors and then she could retreat to the gardens for some work there, and finally retreat to her rooms to finish paperwork and pack for Orlais. It would be fine.

***
The reports rolled in, along with the missions. Leliana seemed particularly happy with the results from a scouting expedition, marking the area with new figures and cards.

"Commander, I need you to take care of that tourney," said Adaar.

"Of course. It is not advisable to allow our entrant to win," said Cullen, holding the invitation in his hands.

Adaar leant over to slide a piece across the map.

"It is also not advisable that we lose either," she said. "We cannot be seen as incompetent. A middle ground must be met."

Cullen nodded, "I will make sure that is clear to whom we pick."

It was then, leaning halfway across a was table, that Helena felt a stitch pop in her breast band. She dropped Cullen's card under the designated mission market and straightened up.

Another stitch popped. The fabric of her shirt pulled taught across her chest, forming circles between the buttons.

She still had time to rescue herself before this got out of hand. Nobody had noticed. Leliana was talking and Cullen was staring intently at his list of notes. As for Josephine...

Josephine raised one perfect brow at Adaar and Adaar sighed. The ambassador had nothing to hide. Adaar felt scruffy compared to the collected and calm Josie. It wasn't a mean expression, only curious, and oh how lovely it would have been to spend her day in Josephine's office.

The band snapped free of its stitches, and Adaar let out a tiny gasp of surprise as her chest was unbound. It expanded like a bubble, and they quivered under abused buttons and were forming stiff peaks where her nipples were lacking a breast band. The band dropped from Adaar's shirt, split in two from the front.

"Inquisitor, are you okay?" asked Josephine, taking a step towards Adaar.

Adaar had barely a moment to think before her breasts decided that it wasn't enough to break her breast band but her shirt as well.

Silver buttons scattered onto the floor, and Adaar could feel the heat in her face, her shirt splitting to the underside of her cleavage. It was no more scandalous or revealing than an Orlesian party gown but Adaar had long learnt to hide her body. Especially this part of her body.

Grabbing her shirt together, Adaar sprinted out of the war room with half-shouted apologies and no time to examine the matching redness in Josephine's face.

Chapter Text

Slamming her door behind her, Adaar hurried across her bedroom.

They had all seen them, and she was ruined.

Carefully, she removed her shirt - it could be fixed, surely - and laid it on her bed whilst she scrambled for another breast band. She almost whimpered, biting it back, the band struggling to contain her in its ragged state. Another band was yanked out and laid over the top of the first, and they took the strain admirably.

As she was buttoning up a new shirt, there was a knock at Adaar's door.

"Inquisitor?" called Josephine's voice.

"I'm not decent yet," shouted Adaar.

Panic struck her as she fought with her buttons, fingers trembling. They slipped about.

"I shall wait," said Josephine. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, however, Herah."

Adaar swallowed. Only Josephine was allowed to call Adaar by her first name, and it was only when matters were personal that Josephine would feel the need to use it.

Buttons finally behaving, Adaar opened her door a crack.

"Is this about my breasts?" she asked.

Josephine's perfect lips pressed to the gap, slender fingers wrapping around the door.

"Yes. You set off in such a hurry, I just -" Josephine broke off. She reached through to stroke Adaar's arm comfortingly. "- I was worried."

Giving in to Josephine's calming pats and soothing voice, Adaar opened the door. Josephine stepped in, her arms absent of any writing utensils.

"Thank you, Herah," said Josephine.

Adaar stepped aside to let her lover climb up the stairs. Josephine made herself comfortable on the couch that was too small for Adaar, but she kept for guests. Instead, she picked up the chair from her desk and placed it opposite Josephine.

"Are you hurt?" asked Josephine.

"Only my self-esteem," said Adaar.

"We can have new clothes made - I could have sworn I had your measurements correct but-"

Josephine broke off, her face a cloud of worry. Maybe she thought she had made a mistake, Adaar realised.

"No, I gave them to you for uniforms. They were correct," said Adaar.

She leant over, shuffling her chair forward until their knees were touching, and took Josephine's hands.

"I have special bands to make me...smaller. I prefer them that way," said Adaar.

A tiny frown creased her lover's face.

"Why?" asked Josephine.

Adaar shrugged and said, "They make me look even more abnormal. I don't like them."

"But you are beautiful," said Josephine.

Her tone was insistent, her hands clenching over Herah's. There was a defiant look in her eye and Herah found herself unable to look away. How such a kind, compassionate, and stunning woman had taken an interest in her of all people, Herah didn't know.

"No, love, it is you who is beautiful," said Herah.

She let go of one hand to sweep a lock of escaped hair behind Josephine's ear.

"With my rear? Goodness no," said Josephine.

Herah paused. She'd never thought about it. Their kisses had always been polite and chaste, the heaviest patting involved had been holding each other's faces and a slip of tongue occasionally. Josephine had never let Herah pick her up to make things easier.

The layers of ruffles and fabric only suggested at Josephine's body. Herah had no idea what Josephine was talking about.

She suddenly very much wanted to unwrap her tiny golden human and see what she looked like underneath.

"I believe you're exaggerating," said Herah.

Josephine shook her head.

"No, it is truly atrocious. I inherited my hips from my grandmother - they're 'good for breeding' as one of my suitors said, as if I were a piece of cattle! Urgh," she said.

"Did you throw out the suitor?"

"Of course! It was a good lesson in how to remove people by blackmail."

Josephine shifted closer, their legs well and truly touching.

"It seems we both hate our bodies," said Herah.

"I never said I hated my body," said Josephine. "Merely displeased."

"But I like it."

"Just as I like yours."

They gave each other a determined stare, each trying to figure out what exactly lay under the other's clothes. Hesitantly, Josephine reached out and touched Herah's waist.

"We should prove it," said Josephine. "I like your body and you seem to like mine, so let us prove it."

Heat flooded Herah's cheeks. Josephine was so bold! On one hand, Herah didn't want to scare Josephine off but on the other hand, she really wanted to see Josephine.

Her eyes flicked to the door.

"Lock it and we can begin," said Josephine, following Herah's gaze.

Herah threw out a spell to turn the key in the door. It clicked.

Now Josephine's hands went for Herah's shirt, plucking the buttons open. She watched Herah with every one undone, patting her knee between each one.

Herah undid the breast bands, dropping them to the floor. The release of pressure was nice, although it was never uncomfortable when the pressure was there.

"Goodness," murmured Josephine.

Josephine's eyes had widened a little, and one hand came up to brush over a nipple. Those warm hands touched underneath and above. Between them and around them. They traced the line of Herah's collarbone and then around her nipples.

Then they squeezed gently and Herah shivered. Josephine's touch was considerate. Herah had never experienced someone being considerate before. It was always grabs and pokes and jiggling.

A sense of excitement shot through Herah, and she clamped her legs together, heat building from Josephine's ministrations.

"They are lovely, just as you are lovely," said Josephine.

She leant up for a kiss and Herah found herself sweeping her human lover into her lap. They let themselves fall against one another, Josephine rocking slightly.

"May I?" asked Herah, tugging at Josephine's waist sash.

Josephine nodded, crawling back out so she could stand. There were intricate knots to the sash, and Herah undid them with only a little instruction. It took longer than if Josephine had done them herself, but Josephine did not wish to deprive Herah of undressing her when the Vashoth had been so still whilst her shirt was undone.

Ties and buttons came undone until Josephine's hips were slowly revealed and Herah slid the fabric over thick thighs and buttocks. Josephine's hips were indeed wide but they suited her. As Herah slid her hands around to feel, she admired the tiny Orlesian underwear that were held on by ribbons at either side.

Maker, but Herah wanted to stick her face between those thighs and make Josephine scream.

"Can we?" asked Herah. "Can we have sex?"

The smile and nod was all that Herah needed.

Shucking off her shirt, Herah picked Josephine up by the waist, grinning as Josephine wrapped her legs around her for balance, and laid her gently on the bed. She pulled on the ribbons and threw the black lace underwear away, and started to remove Josephine's top.

Josephine's hands went for Herah's trousers, pushing them down as far as she could. Herah stopped to push them off the rest of the way, and Josephine sat up to slide Herah's practical powder blue underwear down.

In another few moments, Josephine's blouse and breast band were off and Herah pressed a hand into the warmth between Josephine's legs. She was hot and wet, and the brush of a fingertip against Josephine's clit had a breathy moan tumble out of her mouth.

Josephine pushed Herah over, rolling them so she could straddle her. Her beautiful lips descended on Herah's breasts, licking and sucking at the stiffened nipples, letting her buttocks rise into the air. Herah hummed and squirmed under the attention, her core heating with every lavishing nip.

Her hands went to that soft, supple rear, running up and down the dark skin.

Josephine lifted her head, moving up Herah's neck and kissing her. It was deep and passionate, Herah holding Josephine by her waist.

"How shall we pleasure ourselves?" asked Josephine. "We have half an hour before Mother Giselle is expecting me in my office."

Herah wanted more than half an hour, but half an hour was all she had. It was vital to Josephine's reputation that she keep her appointments.

"Half an hour? I'm sure we can do better than one round in half an hour, if you're amicable to the idea?"

"Yes," said Josephine, her breath short and excited.

Herah propped a pillow behind Josephine's back and made her sit up so her hair wasn't completely untidy. Then, she nuzzled between those thighs, letting them rest on her shoulders and made Josephine giggle and squeal as Herah took care of her pretty golden human.

Josephine's thighs clenched and quivered and her heels dug lightly into Herah's shoulder blades as she shuddered, chest heaving, and she came.

Herah sat up, rubbing her hands over Josephine's thighs as she came down from the bliss. Radiant. That was how Herah would describe her. Radiant.

"Oh," said Josephine, in a dreamy haze.

Then she snapped to attention.

"Oh, Herah, you haven't - stay still."

Herah was thrown against the pillows again, and Josephine had one hand teasing at Herah's clit, and the other on one breast. She kissed Herah's stomach, and nibbled at her hips. Pleasure made Herah buck onto Josephine's fingers, the feeling more intense by the massaging of her breasts and the kisses, until finally she curved up and her heat overtook her.

When she came to, Josephine was sitting on Herah's lap, stroking her horns.

"We have time for one more, if we do it together," said Josephine.

Herah smiled and sat up, not minding the press of her breasts against Josephine's as they kissed again.

Josephine wasn't a moment late for Giselle, and looked none worse for wear, except that she couldn't find her underwear and held three important meetings without them.

Chapter Text

A week later, Josephine arrived with a box of shirts and blouses. She placed them on Herah's bed, knowing that the Inquisitor was due to return to her room to bathe and change before dinner. In the meantime, though, she had the opportunity to strip down and wrap herself in a bathrobe, a pretty piece of Orlesian silk cut and sewn to match the patterns that danced across the surface.

Josephine wrapped it tight and tied the sash into a bow, drawing in her waist. Like Herah, she was still getting used to someone admiring her as a whole and not just for odd birth quirks that had given her the wide hips and Herah her large bosom.

A few minutes later, Herah entered. The tiredness of her last journey washed away as she spotted Josephine near the bed.

"Josie," she squealed, dashing up the steps to kiss Josephine on the cheek. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," said Josephine.

Herah was covered in all sorts of muck. There was a rotting smell of algae and mud, to which Josephine wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sorry, I must smell awful," said Herah, being careful not to trail a mess onto the carpet.

She took off her boots and socks, then stripped out of her robes. The dirty washing went into a basket, whilst the boots went by the door to be cleaned.

It was odd seeing Herah's chest bound down, but Herah assured Josephine that it was safe. Off came the ratty breast band and then Herah was standing there only in her underwear, breasts freed.

"Bathe with me?" she asked.

"Of course. You smell considerably better now," teased Josephine.

Herah slid into the bath first, sighing as the hot water seeped over her. When Josephine took off her robe, Herah watched her whilst lathering soap over her arms.

The tub was big enough for the two of them to fit comfortably, Herah's legs being able to stretch out whist she was sitting up. Josephine climbed in, then leant forward to kiss Herah on the nose.

Once they had finished washing, Josephine drained the tub and drew up a fresh bucket of water each to rinse off the last of the dirty bathwater. This was the part she enjoyed the most about bathing with Herah - they cleaned off one another.

Soap still clung to them both, and Herah carefully wiped it off, starting from the top and lovingly massaging Josephine's back. When Herah was done, Josephine reciprocated, and then they were both clean.

Redressing in bathrobes, Josephine took Herah over to the box of clothes.

"I have some presents for you," said Josephine. "For wearing around Skyhold."

She lifted the lid. Herah pressed close, wrapping her arms over Josephine's waist to watch.

"They're very pretty," said Herah. "Will they fit?"

"Even better than that - they have what us Antivans call a shelf, so one does not need to wear a breast band underneath it," replied Josephine.

She pulled out a deep red blouse that seemed to wrap around in a Qunari style, but sit off the shoulders in true Antivans seduction. Another was a pale gold tunic top, fastened with clasps at the neck. Herah could spot several more but none so daring as the robe that simply dipped down at the centre. That one, Herah decided, was for Josephine's eyes only. The rest were conventional blouses, some with the occasional embellishment.

"They're beautiful," said Herah. "Thank you."

She nuzzled at Josephine's neck, then let go. There was something she wanted to give to Josephine in return.

"I'll wear one of them tonight if you wear these," said Herah.

She held up the blue trousers, coloured to match Josephine's usual outfits.

"Are they not your trousers?" asked Josephine.

"The tailor's first attempt. They made the wrong size entirely but I couldn't bring myself to throw them out. Try them on at least?" pleaded Herah.

"I don't think they would fit over my thighs," said Josephine.

"If they don't, I can give them away."

Reaching for the trousers, Josephine handed Herah the golden tunic.

The draped tunic fit perfectly, Herah blushing slightly as she adjusted her breasts to slide inside the "shelf" Josephine had mentioned. As Josephine watched, the fabric heaved up and down, settling over the curves. The hem rested mid thigh, fluttering as Herah moved. To finish it off, Herah slipped on some underwear and leggings.

"You look wonderful," said Josephine.

Herah smiled and spun for Josephine.

"Your turn," said Herah.

Grimacing, Josephine held up the trousers again. They seemed small.

But she had promised.

Slowly, she pulled the trousers up, sliding over her knees easily, then hesitated at her thighs, and continued to pull. For a moment it looked like she would be stuck, but then it was over her rump.

Herah squeaked in delight and dashed forward to help with the buttons. A hand slid over the trousers as Josephine rested her hands on Herah's chest.

"I can't believe it fit," said Josephine.

It was snug. It made her ass look like it had been sculpted in the image of a goddess. Or Andraste. Herah told Josephine this, whilst squeezing for good measure.

"You have Andraste's tits if I have her ass," said Josephine, reddening at the comparison.

"So the Maker was a Tits and an Ass man?"

"Stop it," giggled Josephine. "You're dreadful."

Herah shrugged. The dinner bell sounded, and Josephine quickly dressed the rest of her body. When they went down to eat, neither of them noticed the stares they drew, instead indulging in ignoring everyone else as they ate.