Alistair had certainly been set up in the best quarters. The room was large and had a great view of the mountains. There was a canopy bed and an interesting set of weaponry on the wall above it. How could anyone sleep under that? What if one of the maces or swords broke free and stabbed whomever was sleeping in the bed? Well, he supposed that was why the bed was canopy and had a wooden roof over it like a second small home.
Some snooping told him that this wasn't a mere guest bedroom. The Inquisition symbol on every rug and the banners on the wall. Papers on the desk were scrawled with neat handwriting, signed by Lady Inquisitor Maren Trevelyan. At least he now knew her actual name beyond "Inquisitor." That would have been awkward to ask about. Alistair wasn't really sure how to feel about the Inquisitor giving up her room during his stay, however long that ended up to be. It had taken a while to travel here. By all rights, he would be allowed to stay for as long as he wanted. Especially because he was a king even though he'd have to return back to Denerim as soon as could. It wasn't like he was really needed all the time but being away from little Duncan had taken some sunshine from his day. And now that he knew that the Inquisitor had given up her room for him, Alistair felt more pressed to leave as soon as he was able. It struck him a bit odd that she would, considering how large Skyhold was. Surely they had a guest rooms. He decided he'd inquire about it among other things when he saw the Inquisitor next.
His things had been delivered during the brief and interesting greeting with the Inquisition's ambassador and Inquisitor. Perhaps traveling under the radar wasn't the best way to travel for a king since his welcome wasn't anywhere near grand but Alistair didn't want to stir trouble or assassins even though he had guards and was well-equipped himself to take care of such matters. Or so he liked to think anyway. Surprisingly, the bucket of slop had been humbling and almost welcoming since it made him feel like a person somehow. And with the way Maren had looked at him after their embrace, it had been something similar to humbling for her too. The idea of an organization's leader pranking their associates was both amusing and tempting. If Alistair tried it, Anora wouldn't take it as lightly as he would, even if she wasn't the target.
A bark brought Alistair's attention away from the studious little corner to see his mabari. "You've settled in well, Porker." He grinned at the dog spread out on the canopy bed, amazed he hadn't noticed him before. Granted, the dog could pass for a pillow at certain angles. When he knelt down, Porker immediately hopped off the bed and tackled Alistair with slobber and kisses. From the ground, Alistair laughed and turned his head to the side. It was then that he noticed a door. It was cracked open between the dresser and bed. Curious, he pushed Porker off of him gently and stood, going to the door and opening it. A low whistle came from his mouth. "The Inquisitor has quite the stash." He said appraisingly at the shelves of liquor surrounding a ladder. There was even a barrel on its side with a spout. But those weren't the only interesting things. On a table near a bottle of wine, there was a Grey Warden Commander's crest on top of a journal. Probably overstepping his boundaries further as a guest, Alistair picked up the crest and then the journal. Both had belonged to a Warden at some point. Maybe not the same. He looked in the journal and a familiar name was imprinted on the inner leather cover. Alistair snapped the book close and set the objects back down on the table. If he read the journal, he'd dig up old bones that would probably be best left buried. Of all things to be a consequence for snooping. Alistair rubbed his eyes and turned to see someone standing in the doorway. Odd how someone had got past Porker without making the dog tackle them in a frenzy of kisses and love.
"Uh, can I help you?" Alistair asked awkwardly. He wasn't sure if this was some weird, floppy-hatted servant or a figment of his imagination honestly.
"You hurt. You worry about her everyday. Always wondering if she's alright. You care for her. As a friend. As someone you adore." The servant person boy said.
Alistair was flustered, aware of whom he was probably referring to but he wasn't sure how this random boy knew. "I - uh, who are you?" He demanded.
"I brought the journal but I didn't know if it will help or hurt. When you saw it, it hurt you. Maybe I was wrong. Don't worry, you'll forget in a moment!" The boy pushed past him and grabbed the journal and crest before scampering out of the small room.
"Wait!" Alistair followed after him but when he went back into the main room, there was no one but Porker sitting where he'd left him, looking pretty. He forgot what he came into the room for. He hated that feeling. Alistair walked back into the little room and circled around in his thoughts for what he meant to do but it never came. Giving up, he walked back out to see servants coming in with a large basin and buckets of hot water to clean the Inquisitor's horrible concoction off of him as Josephine had promised him. Alistair commanded Porker to sit and stay before he could topple the servants over and spill the buckets. Luckily, the mabari obeyed for once. It would have been embarrassing otherwise. Once the basin was full of hot water, the servants bowed and left after he thanked them.
He let the water cool a smidge before stripping and climbing into the basin. It might've been large enough for an elf but his knees stuck out like little islands from the short length of it. It didn't help that Porker decided he needed a bath too.
"Porker, no!"
Porker, yes!
The King of Ferelden tried to keep the mabari at bay but eventually, the dog being all muscle, got his two front legs into the tub and made water slosh out onto the rugs. Alistair couldn't stop the rest of the invasion and was forced to move as Porker climbed the rest of the way in and sat down, pushing even more water out. The dog panted in satisfaction, enjoying the warm water as his master shook his head.
Accepting the events as they were, Alistair went about cleaning himself up from supplied soap and even went after Porker. The water became a murky brown with dog hair mixed in it. A little shiny floater caught his and he picked it out of the water to discover it was a fish eye. Nope. Alistair got out of the bath and flicked the eye back in the wretched waters. He could now make a guess at what the slop had been and a shudder went through him. Luckily, he had left a few buckets full of water to rinse and that's exactly what he did, scandalously on the balcony facing away from the keep so more water wouldn't splash onto the rugs. He probably shouldn't have bothered to be careful since Porker leapt out of the basin and shook water everywhere. The damage was done and the Inquisitor would learn not to lend her room to guests.
He got dressed in clothing almost identical to his usual attire, not having much sense for style and changing fashion overnight like the Orlesians loved to do. He'd have someone sent for the soiled clothes and rugs to hopefully save them. Honestly, he was half tempted to burn them but a bonfire in the Inquisitor's rooms would probably be pushing the limits of her hospitality. He styled his hair before whistling for Porker and descended the stairs out of the room back out to the throne room, heading to a place where there was dirt or grass or wherever his dog could relieve himself without further damaging the Inquisitor's rooms.