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There were certain perks to being Inquisitor. Like access to the kitchens at all hours, and an unlimited supply of the frilly cakes that Solas adored so much.
Lavellan climbed the stairs to her quarters, knowing that Solas would already be there. It was already dark, and Josephine and Leliana had kept her busy in the ambassador's office quite late, preparing her Halamshiral and Empress Celene's court. It was more work than she had anticipated, and a great deal more dancing.
But that was done with, for the night, and she looked forward to relaxing with her vhenan.
Balancing a tray in one hand, she pushed the door open. The fire was low, and it cast just enough light to show Solas laying on his stomach, a book propped open on a pillow.
She paused for a moment, appreciating the view. Lavellan would never get used to seeing him in her bed, but she loved seeing it.
Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her, and Solas finally looked up.
"Are you finished for the night?" he asked, maneuvering so that he was sitting up on the bed, his legs crossed.
"Finished and already tired of Orlais," she said with a sigh. "Here, I brought you a treat."
She set the tray gently down on the bed, and climbed up next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder.
"What's this?" he asked, lifting the lid of the tray. "Oh!"
"I thought we could both use a reward for our patience," she said, leaning over to kiss his neck.
Solas chuckled, entwining his finger with hers. His other hand reached for one of the tiny sweets, deftly plucking a pink one from the rainbow of colors. He bit half, before offering the rest to Lavellan.
She took it, her teeth brushing his fingers, and his eyes darkened.
"I can think of sweeter rewards," he said, the cakes forgotten.