A/N: Apart from my OC, Chef Ellie, I've made up a nice new room in Skyhold, a kitchen with a pantry. Because my Lady Trevelyan loves to eat, what can I do?

I owe the Inquisitor my life, but then again, here in Skyhold, who doesn't? I'm truly grateful, of course, but not being a gifted mage, a talented warrior, a clever spy, or a melodious bard, I've had to find another way of expressing gratitude and staying useful. Me being talented in the kitchen then, I applied to be a cook in the Inquisition. And then it goes.

It's quite simple. Ever since she got declared Herald of Andraste back in Haven, Lady Evelyn Trevelyan has taken a mug or two of sweetened black coffee, and whatever it is we're feeding everyone else for breakfast, together with everyone else. But then she becomes Inquisitor, the boss of all bosses, and though she continues to eat her main meals with everyone in the mess hall, she gets a nice new perk.

A small pantry near her suite, with a kitchen Orlesian nobles would kill for. And me as her personal chef. Seems that she had a word with someone up there, or that the other bosses—Lady Leliana, Lady Josephine, Lady Cassandra, and Commander Cullen—finally noticed her one true passion and decided she has earned it. Poof! I'm out of the mess hall kitchens, and now, whenever she's home, I cook desserts exclusively for her.

All it takes is one look, and I usually can tell if Inquisitor Trevelyan is in the mood for Fereldan rolls (a very simple roll with special cheese sticks inside), an Orlesian butter cookie (Orlesian food has three secrets: butter, butter, and more butter), an Ostwick pastry (a fruitcake with generous helpings of raisins), Antivan black forest cake (chocolate cake with a dash of wine) or, if she's really sad, a Tevinter blood cake (velvety cake dyed deep red) complete with cream cheese frosting (the cheese from Ferelden, of course). She's also quite predictable in her drinks: when her brows are furrowed in thought, a cup of black Nevarran tea is helpful; when she has just arrived from some mission, an iced Antivan pineapple juice; when she's in the mood for bread rolls, some hot chocolate from cocoa beans we plant in the slopes. Hah! I didn't even need Sera or the Spymaster to tell me this. Makes me proud.

Gotta say though, half my workload gets disappears when she's off somewhere. Not that I'm complaining. But now she's here, well, somebody gotta make Skyhold functional and comfortable, right? And that's no easy task.

"Good afternoon, milady, Inquisitor," I greet her when she opens the kitchen door. I note her slumped shoulders, remember that she's been running around Skyhold for a while now, and offer her some—"pastry roll with the cheese that King Alistair sent? And some fruity tea?"

The Inquisitor smiles. "You always know how to perk me up, Chef Ellie. Fill me in!"

I arrange her pastries and tea in a tray. To look fancier—a lesson from Imperial kitchens—I add a sprig of cinnamon. Feels good to be her personal chef, sometimes.

"Goodness, Ellie, you know exactly how I want my snacks," she says, to my great delight. "I don't even have to enchant my taste buds in order to eat this. Not unlike the nightmare in Redcliffe. Their tavern food is plain awful, I'm surprised they're still open."

She continues eating. I remember the time after she came from Redcliffe, when she ate an entire Tevinter blood cake on her own, as if the cake could drown her sorrows. It's nice that she has put that entire Redcliffe nightmare behind her now.

"Any gossip?" she asks.

"Ach, my lady, if you want gossip, the bartender has more. I just cook, I don't serve."

"Good point! But you know, Chef Ellie, I'm not an ale person. Makes me fat but without the creamy goodness of sugar and butter."

I give a short chuckle. Without that exercise she must be getting from beating all the bad guys, she'd be a right fat kid. Maybe Harritt is getting his hands full in adjusting her robes and armor all the time.

She finishes her meal. I take her plate and anticipate her usual "Thanks Chef!" when instead I hear,

"Chef Ellie, do you think Commander Cullen prefers chocolate or cheese?"

"I'm sorry, milady?" I ask. Totally unexpected, that one. She's never asked me to serve others, not that I won't do it if she asks.

"I know that Bull prefers greasy stuff that goes with ale, and Dorian and Varric probably something similar, and Vivienne and Josephine likes everything fancy but Sera does not, Blackwall doesn't like anything really, and Cassandra has a secret sweet tooth," the Inquisitor tallies. "Solas, too, doesn't like anything, but Cole likes everything. And no point sweetening up Leliana." She looks at me. "What? You know what to serve me every time. I think I have the same talent!"

I suppress a guffaw. "So why haven't you observed what Commander Cullen likes?" I ask her.

The Inquisitor blushes immensely. I get my answer.

"Well," I say slowly, calculating what the man might like, "Since the Commander's Fereldan, and their King Alistair loves cheese, maybe he likes cheese too?" Soldiers, templars in particular, aren't really picky about their food. Unless they're high ranking chevaliers, they eat whatever is served in the mess hall.

"Oh," she says, a little disappointed. "Well, can you be a dear and pack me a box of these cheesy pastries? Make sure the box is fancy and stuff? And add a jug of this divine fruity tea while you're at it."

Dear Maker, her blush is priceless. Like a fat kid with a crush, except that she isn't really a fat kid. She's a talented mage who's just slightly chubby. And quite dangerous with her staff, and without. I'm always glad me and my sweets are on her good side.

"Certainly, milady. Should I make greasy stuff for Bull, Dorian, Varric, and the—"

"That won't be necessary," she says. "Not until Satinalia anyway. I don't want to share your dessert skills with them!"

"Oh, I see," and I dare myself to tease her. "So you and the Commander—"

"Not a word to anyone," she gasps, eyes wide with horror. "I'll have you banished in the cold Frostbacks with no food ever! Even if that means that I will have to live without your goodies thereafter."