Author's Disclaimer: I don't own anything belonging to "Dragon Age 3." Nothing.

Author's notes: And here we go! Anyone liking this thing?

"Shifting interest"

Chapter two "Reflecting"

Lavellan woke suddenly, jolting upright. She was in her own bed in her own chambers. The hearth was low; a servant had to have tended it for her last night. In her drunken stupor. Lavellan's hands moved over her body. Her clothes were still on, but her boots had been taken off by someone.

As the fog of her hangover clung to her brow, the elf pressed a hand to her temple and groaned. Someone, possibly that invisible kind servant, had left a flagon of water on her bedside table with a clean folded towel. Lavellan tugged the collar of her tunic open, gulping half the flagon in one long swallow, and poured the rest over her face. She swathed the towel, washing her face quickly and tossed the towel on the floor. Since coming to Skyhold, she'd been spoiled by the servants. Remembering her old Keeper's scoldings, Lavellan reached to collect it and toss into the hamper.

"Who…." Lavellan didn't remember climbing the stairs to her chambers. She doubted her soldiers or advisors would have left her to sleep it off drunk at the tavern, but who had carried her to bed? She shuddered to think. She'd have to apologize profusely for one thing. She hoped her reputation among the soldiers wasn't marred by her night of carousing to edge out her grief.

"Uh. Dammit, Solas," Lavellan muttered. She tore off her tunic, remembering to toss it at the hamper with her towel. She found a clean tunic, pure white with gold embroidering along the sleeves, and tugged it on. The pants were fine, but clean socks would complete the outfit. Lavellan tugged on her boots then went to exit. When the elf opened the door to her chamber, she strode out. And almost tripped over a large leg in her path.

"Easy!" Iron Bull, the recipient in her path, steadied her with one large hand. Lavellan blushed, realizing how close she was to tumbling into the qunari's lap. It WAS a large lap…. Then she noted the overstuffed chair he'd dragged up the stairs to sit guard. He'd been there for some time, obviously.

Oh, fuck.

"Uhm…were you here…all night?" Lavellan blushed. She couldn't stop tugging at the edges of her crinkled hair nervously. Iron Bull's lips quirked up in a small grin. She watched the edges of his goatee pull taut with the gesture and suddenly wondered what his lips felt like. Against hers. Against other parts of her. Dammit, think, Inquisitor!

"I was. Someone had to make sure you got to your bed safely," he rumbled. Lavellan gave a mental sigh of relief.

"So I…..didn't do anything obscene, right? Please say I didn't," Lavellan begged. Bull stood up, crinking his back out as he got up to his full height. Lavellan stared up at him.

"Naw. Not more than showing us your good side," he teased. Lavellan had a flash of tugging her tunic up to her chin to expose herself to the Chargers and groaned. She dragged her palm down over her eyes.

"I did not."

"You did." A gentle tap at her arm got her to lower her hand from her eyes. Iron Bull was smiling down at her and he'd stopped teasing. "Can I just say; you have fantastic tits."

Lavellan's face erupted into a fierce red blush. "Uhm!..."

Bull laughed and squeezed her arm, stepping aside. "I'll be in the kitchens getting some food. Unless you'd like to join me."

Lavellan closed the door to her chambers and followed him down the stairs. "I'm starving," she agreed.

"Good! We gotta sop up that hangover. How's your head?" Bull asked. Lavellan felt touched he was after her health. Or was he just being kind. Qunari were so hard to read sometimes, and it was true that Bull was not the usual qunari soldier….

"Great! I hope there's tarts…."

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After skirting through breakfast and looking at a few reports with Josephine, there was only one thing to do the morning after thoroughly embarrassing herself. Take a bath.

Lavellan waited in her bathrobe as the servants brought in kettle after kettle of steaming water to pour into her large tin tub. She had her own bathing room up in her chambers, a far cry of difference from the accommodations at Haven.

There, the soldiers and workers had to draw lots to take a dunk in the communal tubs behind the tavern. Only a few threadbare planks that constituted for a fence kept prying eyes from peeping. Lavellan had been fortunate to take residence in the Chantry church's washing room, and she'd shared tubs with her advisors.

Lavellan gently urged the servant to leave, and eased her robe off, settling into the hot water slowly. Here, there was no Cassandra to admire; those lines of abdominal muscles were just gorgeous. Nor a shy Josephine stealing glances at her over a dusky bare shoulder. If stupid Solas hadn't gotten her attention, Lavellan might have been interested. Now Josie had taken up to chatting it up with Dagna. That opportunity was gone.

But then, there was Iron Bull. Lavellan tucked her knees up and pressed her chin into them. A solid soldier, a great hand to duck behind in battle, and erstwhile spy talking about the Inquisition to a far-off court. What was he telling them about her and the Inquisition? It was a thought to come back to, as Lavellan thought about his deep laughs, and how he hadn't been surprised, sprawled in that large chair outside her bedroom door, as if waiting for her. And he WAS handsome in his qunari way. She didn't know whether to be jealous of his tales of entertaining the kitchen staff some nights.

She'd have to take him with her on her next trips out west. Just them and two other party members. Far from flirtatious kitchen maids.

End for now

End notes: Review if you like ^_^ just something fun to jot.

Sincerely, pen 11/25/2022