She walked down the hallway with quickened steps, it was her turn in the day to bathe and she had looked forward to it since she'd awoken, but not for the reason most would expect.
Slowly she pulled down on the door handle, the oak door creaked open to reveal a decently sized room, an ornate metal bath
lay in the far centre and the sweet smell of Andraste's Grace filled the air with nostalgia.
[Ellana ran down the lane towards her house, her mother perched on her bench with a book in hand. The spring breeze blowing faintly, a subtle comfort and a slight chill in the day's warmth]
With haste she locked the door behind her, feeling thankful that First Enchanter Irving trusted her with the key, a small perk of being one of his most valued students. Moments after the door had locked, she felt her entire body relax, the solitude was welcome and she longed for it. She put her bath robe and towel aside, quickly she walked to the bath, the metal was cool beneath her fingers
and with a flick of her wrist, it began to fill with bubbling water. She knelt to the ground and brought the dying embers of the fire back to life and revelled in the subtle beauty of the flame.
Gracefully she pulled her gold and scarlet robe over her head, its silk and fur felt smooth against her skin and she loved it, mild appreciation grew for 'some' aspects of circle life. Steam started to rise from the body of water and with a swift trail of her fingers through the clear liquid, she checked the temperature. Her movements were slow and cautious as she lifted an aching leg over the metallic rim of the bath, there was a rush of heat as she made contact with it, but it left
as quickly at it heat relaxed every muscle as she submerged beneath the water, it stopped at the rise of her chest and it's sweet caress was bliss. She took the soap from the table beside the bath, it started to bubble in her hands and the soothing smell of rose and vanilla wafted through the air. Gradually she ran it along her risen leg, ivory skin shone softly and a gentle lathered built up. She continued with it, trailing it across her skin and cleansing herself of her fatigue.
Amell placed the rounded block of soap back in its dish upon the table and she picked up a small bottle, it was the colour of lavender but the cleansing oil within, smelled elegantly of rose.
With one hand she poured it on her hair and with the other she trailed her fingers, separating ebony locks. All it took was the emptying of a bowl of water over her head, it washed away the remaining soap and the cascade was a pleasant sensation, a sensation she relished. She wanted to spend as long as she could in there, she often longed for the embrace of the water, she felt at home in it. Her eyes closed as she relaxed in the gentle warm mist that rose from the bed of water, a soft knock on the door roused her from her relaxation.
"Lady Amell?"
She recognized his voice instantaneously and stood up in her bath, cautiously she stepped out, pulling her bathrobe on in a fluid motion as she made her way to the door.
With a small amount of hesitation she opened the door, it revealed a young templar, adorned in his armour and with a head of golden curls.
"What can I do for you Ser Templar?"
She asked, her voice was toned with authority but faintly shook with a hint of nervousness. He looked at her longingly with deep brown eyes, his lips lifted on one side as he amused himself with his own thoughts. She stood mainly covered by the door, but as he placed one hand on the door and opened it he forced her into his full view. The both robe did little to stifle the imagination, hanging loosely but covering that which should remain hidden.