Of which Lavellan cracks her knuckles, much to Solas' annoyance. What, did you think it was something else?
Crack
Crack.
There it was, the rather loud, obnoxious sound of popping knuckles. Solas glanced at Lavellan out of the corner of his eye; the elven woman sheepishly shrugged her shoulders in response, her fingers curling together in her lap. When he was certain that the sound wouldn't continue, the elven apostate returned his attention to the book in front of him. … of a certain magic, the very elves descended…
Crack, crack, crack…
Solas sighed.
"Vhenan, must you?" The elven woman smiled shyly.
"Ir abelas, Solas," she replied, "I can't help it."
The elf in question simply sighed.
"Just… try to tone it down." The elf returned to his book.
Crack, crack, crack…
"Cracking your knuckles isn't good for your hands, vhenan."
"Yeah, I know. But still…" Another crack.
Solas sighed, closing his eyes in frustration.