It was during breakfast of the day after she'd returned that Ellara snuck down to the kitchens. She craftily avoided any of the various nobles who might want to demand her attention, a feat hard won considering that the door to her chambers came out into the large hall and common area, where a majority of them assembled. It was among the cooking staff that she slipped, eyeing the foods for breakfast and getting annoyed glares of her own from the ladies preparing the meal. She grabbed a piece of toast and started slathering it jam on it with a wooden spoon when Mira, a wispy elderly elf with grayed, stressed hair, put her hand on her hip and huffed at Ellana.

"Can't you wait like everyone else, da'len?" Mira asked with an air of exasperation.

A diminutive grin spread on Ellara's face. The fact that they were both Dalish elves was not lost on either of the two women. Mira was the only person in the entirety of the Inquisition that didn't give the younger elf any label of reverence- there was no "Your Worship," or "Inquisitor," with Mira- and thus far, Ellana hadn't asked her to do otherwise.

"You know Iron Bull eats almost everything I put on my plate," Ellana said, taking another bite of her crunchy toast and letting her eyes follow one of the kitchen maids carrying a rather aromatic plate of meat pies. She made a mental note to follow that one in a moment.

"Well, grow a pair and stop him! I've seen you conjure bloody lightning storms in the courtyard! Don't tell me you can't zap that brute back a foot or two!" Mira bent forward slightly as she spoke, as if she needed to recapture Ellana's attention. "Do I need to go in there and give him a whack with my spoon to keep you out of my kitchens?"

All the while, Ellana had a demure smile on her face. "No, hahren," she said, almost in a manner similar to a scolded puppy.

"Ma nuvenin," Mira said with a scoff, brushing Ellana off before turning to bark an order at one of the other girls in the kitchen. Ellana stuffed the rest of her toast in her mouth before making her way over to a pot of oatmeal, stirred with baked apples and sprinkled with cinnamon. It looked absolutely delicious, especially to her, since she had a bit of a sweet tooth. She scooped a hefty bunch into a stray bowl before hearing a massive crash of pots and pans behind her.

"Bloody hell! That's the whole damn pot of sauce, Gheni!"

Ellana turned around to see Mira standing red faced and menacing over a puddle of some watery brown sauce. The tiny girl that had dropped it withered back, her mouth open but wordless, devoid of an explanation. Ellana's eyebrows popped up as she realized it was probably a good time for her make an exit before Mira got any angrier. She started towards the door to the courtyard before dipping in a couple of fingers to taste the thick juice leftover from the baked apples, slowly savoring the sudden sugary taste.

Almost simultaneously, she spied a larger blot of shaded something- the sun was right behind them- start to come through the open door, and wheeled herself to a halt before she ran into them. She looked up to see who she had almost collided with, still absently licking her fingers one by one, as her vision adjusted and she saw the face of the Commander, looking down at her with a surprised look on his face.

As soon as she realized what she was doing, Ellana jerked her fingers out from her mouth and started nervously wiping her hand off on the side of her shirt, feeling a heat creep up her neck. "Ah- um, Cullen," she said, quickly trying to regain composure. There was an awkward grin on his face when she looked back up at him. He looked as if he had no idea what to say in such a situation.

"Inquisitor," he said. "I was about to.. check to see if there are plates enough for my new recruits," he said slowly, lifting one of his hands to rub slightly at the back of his neck.

"Right! Yes. I'll let you get back to that." Ellana nodded, almost a little too forcefully.

"Of course," Cullen said as Ellana found a sliver of space between him and the door and used it to scurry past him. She clutched her bowl in both hands with an agitated grip, her nails making slight indents in the wood as she started jogging up the stairs back to the main hall. She did not dare glance back even once.