In a rare respite about mid afternoon, Dorian sat comfortably by the window of his favorite alcove in the rotunda. He'd finished a cup of tea a few minutes ago, and the cup sat on a nearby stack of books. Next to those books was another stack, and yet another beyond that. One hand on the arm of the chair, the other kept the small book aloft as his eyes scanned the page.
Yet for all the books piled up, the tomes he'd read and those he'd cast aside - nothing quite suited his standards. He'd settled regardless, he had to readsomething after all. As boring and drab as most of the books in the meager library were.
"Dorian!"
He lifted his gaze, lowering the book in his hands just enough to peer over the top. A quite eager Lavellan was stumbling down the hallway toward him. He arched a brow, lowering the book further as the eager looking elf approached. And tripped, rather unexpectedly, over the first pile of books. The scene that unfolded next was far and beyond what Dorian expected, and not at all unpleasant.
Lavellan tried to catch himself, but stumbled into the next stack of books. And before Dorian could fling his own reading material down to assist, Lavellan had already braced against the fall. Two hands splayed out upon Dorian's thighs, his face nearly planted in a very intriguing place. Dorian jerked backward in the chair out of reflex, but with the elf's hands upon his knees he lacked the freedom to actually move away.
Worry creased his features as he started down at Lavellan, who was panting with his head hung mere inches above Dorian's crotch. He squirmed ever so slightly, the sound of voices gently echoing down the stone walls. The accompanying footsteps grew louder, and with each step closer the color on Dorian's cheeks grew brighter.
He cleared his throat, lacing his fingers through Lavellan's hair in an attempt to help alleviate at least part of the current problem. Well, problem insomuch as they were very much not alone. The approaching voices grew louder and then, all at once, went silent.
A gasp startled both Dorian and the Inquisitor as they both looked up, sheer surprise painted across both their faces. The look of sheer horror on Mother Giselle's face would have been, in any other moment, absolutely hysterical to the both of them. But given their positioning, Dorian wasn't quite sure how to handle it. He cleared his throat mere moments after Leliana broke out into fits of laughter. The normally stoic face of the Spymaster was awash with mirth.
"Perhaps we should allow them some time alone, no?" She barely managed through her fits of laughter. With a devious wink to Dorian, she ushered the Revered Mother away from them.
With the amount of heat Dorian could feel radiating off of his own face, he just knew he was redder than a tomato. To say nothing about the absolutely lovely shade on the Inquisitor's face. Who, finally, had managed to hoist himself up and shuffle awkwardly away. He coughed into his hand, staring down at Dorian's feet.
"Are you all right?" Dorian asked, looking up at him. He swallowed as many of his surging feelings as he could, trying to harness them and keep them in check.
"F-fine. Uh, I wanted to show you something." He paused, glancing up. "O-outside."
Quite frankly, Dorian didn't quite care what Lavellan wanted to show him. The simple idea of going outside for a breath of fresh air to calm his nerves, however, sounded wonderful.
"Lead the way," he replied. With a charming grin, he stood up and followed after the Inquisitor. All the while trying to focus on anything but what had just happened. And anything but that wonderful shape of Lavellan's rear.