With a jaunt in his step, Dorian crossed the threshold from the rotunda into the main hall. He paused only in enough time to locate Varric, who sat with his head ducked down and turned away from the small gathering of nobles nearby.
"Not one for polite company?" he asked, a wry twist to his lips.
Varric chortled. "If I had a silver for every time someone asked me that question, Sparkler…"
"You'd be richer than the Inquisitor?" Dorian supplied.
"Something like that."
"Speaking of, have you see him recently?"
"What? The Inquisitor? I think he's in his room avoiding paperwork. I heard Ruffles complaining about it earlier."
Dorian chuckled, nodding in thanks to the dwarf as he spun on his heel and headed off in that direction. The climb never got easier, but what waited for him at the other end was another matter entirely. And typically quite a pleasant one.
He knocked when he reached the door, a muffled reply to enter drifting down. Dorian pushed it open, turning to close it with a soft click. He ascended the short stairwell and immediately shifted his gaze over toward the desk. Where he expected to find the elf. Perhaps doing paperwork after all, or merely staring at it in disgust - as Dorian often found yet, the seat was empty. Papers sat in neat stacks and the quill and inkwell had clearly not been touched.
Stopping at the top of the steps, Dorian shifted his eyes around the room until they landed on the bed. A small, elf-sized lump was clearly buried under the mass quantity of blankets. He swallowed, attempting to force composure.
"Forgive me, I didn't realize…" Dorian took half a step back to leave, fully prepared to come back later.
"It's fine!" Lavellan cut him off with a sleepy chirp. "What did you need?"
Dorian shifted in place, watching the Inquisitor sit up in bed. The blankets pooled at his waist and the mage dragged his eyes back upward with great effort.
"I… came for that book you borrowed. I needed to look something up."
"Oh! I meant to return that last night, forgive me."
In one fluid motion, Lavellan flung the blankets off himself and darted across the room. Stark naked. Dorian's eyes widened, an undeniable heat rising up through his body and sparking out toward every extremity. He choked, trying not to stare too long or too intently. The Inquisitor, book in head, strode toward him with an easy saunter. Not a care in the world. Not a worry to his lack of dress.
"Th-thank you." Dorian smiled, awkwardly.
Lavellan grinned up at him, setting his hands on his hips. "See something you like?" he asked. A cheeky grin on his lips as he twisted one way and then the other to display himself better.
Dorian tittered, swaying in his spot as he felt all the blood rush away from his head. A tingling leaving him wanting as the blood surged lower.
"I should… go…" His voice came out as an awkward hitch.
"Will I see you later at the tavern?"
Dorian hesitated a moment, but nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it."
"Perfect!" The Inquisitor grinned, turning to skip back into his bed. "I'll see you then."
The mage only nodded in reply, inwardly screaming at himself as he watched the lithe elf saunter back to the bed. Damn him, was all he could coherently think. With an awkward jolt, he got enough motor control to turn and just keep himself from tumbling down the stairs as he beat a hasty exit toward his own room.