Queen Ilmatar Cousland walked the halls of the Royal Palace on one very late evening. Only the slight sound of her silky dress moving could be heard. Where was everyone? Zevran and Anders were visiting and it would've been nice for all of them to sit down for once for a late night of drinking and talking of their many adventures. But no, instead she was left alone by those stupid, yet very handsome men. And where was Alistair? Seriously, he was nowadays too quick to disappear whenever he suspected his wife had some unwanted task for him. Someone might have thought that he was afraid of his arch demon-slaying wife…
Two of the chamber maids were coming towards her giggling madly and carrying a large, empty wooden bucket, which was used to transport hot water into the tubs.
"What makes you two giggle so? And who is taking a bath at this time? "She asked them curiously.
They froze when seeing their queen and curtsied deep. The other stammered trying to stop her chuckling "Y-your, your Majesty. Forgive us, we did not see you. We are coming from my lord Zevran's rooms. He requested for plenty of hot water and we filled the tub for him and..." She burst laughing again. The other maid was in no better condition.
Well, the Queen thought, I know of giggle-loops, Maker knows I had plenty of them during those nights at the camp so long ago. They can't be stopped.
"Alright, you may go now, enjoy the rest of the evening." She nodded and left them to their gushing and laughter.
In all her years of training to be a warrior and a noble lady as well as having to deal with all sorts of better and worse people before the Blight, she had learned to trust her gut feeling. And this time it was saying that Zevran was definitely up to something. She was too curious to let it go and walked to his rooms.
The first room was empty and dark, with only one candle left burning. Some clothes were scattered around the floor and those didn't really look like they were Zevran's. How odd. She could have sworn those were Anders' robes. But why would they be here on the floor and not on him? Muffled noises of words and light splashes came from the bathing room. The heavy door was left only slightly open, letting soft candle light come out of the room. Ilmatar tiptoed very slowly closer, trying to listen. She tugged at her long black hair suddenly nervous. She couldn't just barge in there, could she? What if Zevran was naked and bathing? Zevran most certainly wouldn't mind her barging in and seeing him in all his Antivan glory, but somehow she thought Alistair wouldn't approve.
So she leaned very close and tried to hear what was going on. Splashes made it hard to hear clearly and the door was thick enough to give Shale a challenge in ripping it apart. What was that sweet scent? Ilmatar realized that it was the same bathing oils she used for keeping her complexion soft. They were brought to her especially from Orlais. Could Zevran have borrowed them for some unnamed purpose of his own? She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the details. Then more sound came from the room. She realized Zevran was talking to someone else.
"Is this alright? May I apply more pressure?" That was Zevran's husky voice.
"Oh yes. Keep doing that, just there..."
She felt herself blushing. It wasn't one of her ladies in waiting, as she might have suspected, but the voice belonged to a man.
"Mmm, Andraste's knicker-weasels but that feels divine. Could you stroke more on the middle, please?"
"Oh, my dear mage, I had not thought you to be one with so much endurance…"
Ilmatar almost choked. That was Anders! She had to fight every urge not to make a sound. What, what , what was this? Anders had always talked about pretty girls, not pretty and slightly hoochie elven men. The darkspawn slaying, fierce Queen and Commander was panicking that they would notice her presence. What was she supposed to do now? Best not to risk getting caught by moving, she decided. Maker knows these floors creak even by themselves. She heard Zevran chuckle, accompanied by the mage's long moan.
Anders' voice was dreamy. "It only becomes unbearable if it's dry. Now there's enough moisture. "
This was way too much information, Ilmatar thought, her face burning. Suddenly another voice came out of nowhere, one she would instantly recognize anywhere.
"Aren't kings supposed to go first? Or are you really going to make me just watch the two of you and the cat?"
By Andraste, Ilmatar was horrified. This was not real. Alistair wouldn't! Surely not!
Anders was laughing softly. "Oh don't mind him. His Majesty is just jealous of our very special treatment. You enjoy it too, don't you, Ser Pounce-a-lot?"
"Meow!"
That was it. Maybe, just maybe she could have found an explanation for her husband's infidelity with these men, perhaps she was not good enough in bed or had intimidated Alistair by being too scary for a wife, but she would certainly not just stand here and let them expose that poor little kitty to their dirty deeds!
She smashed the door open with all her well trained muscle. "Step away from the kitty, you sick, sick men! I will not have it during my reign! Do whatever you want to each other but leave Pouncie alone! And Alistair, how could you!" She yelled not seeing well in the dimly lit room and the whirling mist of hot air.
The mist was slowly fading away revealing a very naked, and very surprised looking Anders lying deep in the tub. His other leg was stretched out and held by Zevran, who was sitting on the edge of the tub, wearing a dangerously short robe. Pouncie's orange head peeked from the tub, it was actually swimming there! Alistair was sitting on a stool with a towel on his head and around his hips. His well-built body was glistening with some oil and some green ointment was spread across his face. He was looking extremely embarrassed.
Zevran chuckled. "Ah, my beautiful Queen. Welcome to Zevran's temporary beauty parlor. Here I offer the most relaxing Antivan treatments. Perhaps you as well would like a foot massage, yes?"
Her mind was ticking very slowly. "Wait, what? That was all about a...a foot massage?"
"Yes," Zevran grinned. "What did you think it was, hmm? You cannot think our ridiculously good looks come for free?"
"I can believe what she thought. She has a wild imagination, I can tell you." Alistair muttered dryly.
Ilmatar stepped further inside the room and felt relief wash over her. "I'm sorry, I heard only a part of your discussion and jumped into conclusions, and when I heard poor Pouncie was involved too.." She glanced at the kitty in the tub. "I'm so glad you're okay, Pouncie." She cooed leaning closer to the swimming cat and scratching his ear, not noticing how close she was to the naked mage.
Anders finally found his voice, trying to sound serious and failing at it. "For the love of the Maker, could you please not stare at my private bits? I'm a little exposed here! Think of your poor husband, sitting in the same room. I would not wish to start trouble in your happy marriage, but everyone knows a mage's staff is mightier than a templar's sword. "
Zevran was laughing his heart out. Realizing what she was actually seeing, Ilmatar closed her eyes quickly and stumbled out of the room without a hint of her gracefulness. "I'm sorry, so sorry! I'll just leave you to your staff- No! I mean with your, massage. Maker, I'll go now, I'll see you all later or tomorrow or whenever..."
With that she left quickly, the image of a very fine mage's staff burned permanently on her mind, followed by the loud laughter and Alistair's exaggerated sigh "You see what I have to bear with her?"