Oh, it's just Sera.

Suddenly, the figure comes tumbling through the pantry door, obscured by a thick fog of baking flour and powdered sugar. It takes a moment for the dense clouds to dissipate before you can finally make out Sera lying face down on the stone floor. With a dazed, aching groan, the elf raises her blonde head to see you standing over her with your throbbing cock in hand.

"Inky!" Sera offers casually, flashing her toothy grin. "Fancy runnin' into you here, yeah?"

"Oh, it's just you." you smirk, a sense of relief flooding your voice as you realize it's only your mischievous elven rogue and not, well, anyone with the attention span higher than a caffeinated Nug. "What in Andraste's dimpled ass cheeks are you doing here at this hour?"

"Just nabbin' supplies for my next batch of cookies," she explains matter-of-factly. With an energetic leap back to her feet, the elf begins brushing away the sugar from her checkered tunic. "Greedy nobs keep hidin' 'em up on the top shelves..."

"Y'know you live here in Skyhold, right?" you question her playfully. As much of a pain in the ass as she can be sometimes, Sera is still a member of your Inquisition. "You don't have to sneak down to the pantry at night to steal baking supplies. You could just, y'know, ask for them."

"But that's sooo boring, Inky!" Sera whines, letting her blonde hair shake like a Mabari coming in from the pouring rainfall as white powder flies across the room. "Ever since you glued your fat arse to that friggin' throne, we hardly go anywhere!" How else am I 'sposed keep my Red Jenny skills sharp and pointy if we never leave, hmm?"

"And that entrance I just witnessed was you at your peak sharpness?" You mock her with a dry chuckle.

"HUH?" Sera offers, coaxing the last bits of flour from her pointed elven ears with her pinky. "You say something, Inky?"

"I said....oh Maker, just forget it," you sigh in resignation as Sera's scheming gaze begins scanning the kitchen again.

"Hmm, maybe if I swap out the flour with sawdust I can-Hey wait a friggin' second!" Sera's eyes narrow as she finally takes notice of you standing over the hearth with cock in hand, the one you hadn't bothered to stop stroking since she entered. "What exactly are you doing here, Inky?" The elf turns the tables, her voice sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of suspicion.

You decide to be honest with her, knowing Sera isn't the brightest lantern in the Deep Roads, and if worst came to worst, you could simply use your Throne's influence to alter her memory and send her back to bed with a belly full of your spunk.

"Oh, this?" you offer casually, motioning towards the simmering stew with your cock. "Just putting a little bit of myself into the stew so everyone in Skyhold doesn't miss me too much when I take off for the Winter Palace..." you offer too candidly.

"Lemme get this straight...you're tugging your Nug into the stew and making everyone in Skyhold gobble on your goop?" the elf summarizes after a long, drawn-out pause.

"I suppose those are the broad strokes of it, yeah." you nod enthusiastically as your hand effortlessly glides up and down your throbbing hard shaft.

For a brief moment, Sera's face is completely expressionless. Admittedly, you're rarely confident of what's going on in that peabrain of hers, but you're getting nothing from her. Suddenly, you notice her eyelid twitching as she bites her bottom lip, stifling a giggle before she erupts into a fit of cackling laughter. Before you know it, the elf is right back on the floor again, doubled over and rolling around in the sugar and flour as she clutches her stomach from laughing so hard.

"That's...that's the best prank I've ever heard..." the elf wheezes, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Me next! Me next!"

In the blink of an eye, the elven rogue finds her feet, saddling up beside you in front of the simmering pot of tainted stew. With practiced ease, she yanks her plaid tights down to her ankles as her hand dives down to her glistening blonde pussy and she begins frigging herself furiously, her nimble fingers dipping in and out of her folds with supersonic speed.

"Uh, Sera..." you ask, giving the giggling rogue the judgmental side-eye. "What in the Maker's name are you doing?"

"What's it look like, ya stoopid git?" Sera snickers, gleefully frigging herself. "Seasoning the stew, same as you!"

"Now hold on a minute," you object, a frown creasing your brow. "My spunk...well, it's special. Yours will just ruin it."

"Oi! Right full of yourself, aren't we, Inky?" Sera scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You think you're the only one with special sauce? Ask any tart in the tavern who's got the tastiest twat and they'll all tell ya mine..." she brags, pointing to her blonde quim.

Before you can even respond, the elf pulls her sticky fingers out and stuffs them straight into your unsuspecting mouth. The taste of her explodes on your tongue, and you can’t help but moan as you soon find yourself sucking her digits clean. For all her posturing, Sera's pussy does have a remarkably addictive taste.

"See?" she smirks, pulling her fingers free from your mouth with a wet pop. "Who could pass up a piece of this pie?"

"Alright, fine," you concede, letting out a defeated sigh. "But if this ruins the stew, you're eating the whole pot by yourself."

"Deal!" Sera's eyes flash with mischief as she begins to pleasure herself again. "Heh heh, Halla ala Sera, coming right up..."

"I already made that joke," you mutter under your breath petulantly.

Redoubling her efforts, Sera’s fingers turn into a blur between her thighs, her knuckles glistening with her own arousal as she works herself into a frenzy right beside you. The two of you fall into a perverted rhythm while you work your fat cock, her fingers frantically piston in and out her tight little elven pussy, her breath hitching as she rubs her clit feverishly.

You can hear how wet she is, the obscene squelch of her cunt as the air thickens with the scent of her arousal. All the while, a litany of creative curses spills from elf's filthy mouth, each one more colorful and imaginatively vulgar than the last.

"Fuck, crap, bollocks, shit fuck, cunt, son of an fuckknuckle, tits, cocknobbin bastard butt-munching sack of shiteballs-"

Then suddenly, with a shuddering gasp, Sera’s entire body tenses. Her back arching like the curve of her trusty longbow, her whining voice shaking as she raises her voice in a triumphant shout.

"Bone apple teeth, ya nobbers!" she cries, her breathless laughter morphing into **** moans as the powerful orgasm rips through the elf's lithe body. The first arcing gush of her sticky release sprays from her cunt into the bubbling stewpot, breaking the surface of the broth with a wet plop. The elf waggles her trembling hips, aiming her clear nectar into the stew. While most of it ends up in the soup, a few stray jets splashes the front of the pot, the fire crackling and hissing in response as Sera lets out a shuddering moan, fingers still twitching inside herself as the aftershocks of orgasm ripple through her.

Not one to be outdone, your own body surges forward, your hand gliding faster as you approach your own intense climax. With a guttural groan, you unleash another load into the tainted stew, the warm spunk mingling with Sera's contributions into this perverse concoction. Perhaps thanks to the elf's show, your second load is even bigger than the first, as every rope feels like a salvo of cannon fire into the pot of gruel. As you wring out the last few drops and shake them off into the stew, you and Sera both stand there exhaustedly as you watch the cauldron bubble menacingly with your combined essences.

Still panting, you reach for the wooden spoon from the nearby counter. "Well, go on..." you offer with a perverse smile, leaning on the Throne's power to influence as you hand the spoon to the elf. "Give it a taste test," you command her.

Sera, eyes still glazed in post-orgasmic bliss, obliges without question. She dips the spoon into your mutually spoiled stew, swirling it around before she brings it to her lips. Her expression is unreadable for a moment, licking her lips a few times before her eyes widen and she stifles a giggle. "Oi, everyone's gonna love this!" she promises you before smacking her lips, and an almost evil grin appears on her lips. "Hmm, do you think anyone would notice if I went ahead and added-"

"Don't press your luck, elf," you offer sternly, leaving the true depths of Sera's prank-obsessed mind a mystery.

"Ugh, so boring! You're no fun, Inky..." the elf pouts, quickly returning to impish glee as she pulls her tights back up and looks around the kitchen again. "Oi, wanna help me bake up some cookies?" she offers, her voice a playful invitation. "Could use that big meatlog of yours as a rolling pin..."

"That's tempting..." you reply, stifling a yawn. "But I've got a long day tomorrow." The Throne's power may grant you unbelievable stamina, but even you have your limits. "Besides, I think I've had my fill of…culinary experimentation for one night."

"Pbfft, suit yourself." Sera snorts, bending down and scooping what little remains of her stolen pantry items from before. "Gonna whip up a fresh batch of cookies that'll knock Skyhold right on its arse!"

That should be taken as a threat. You might warn the herbalists to prepare for an impending act of gastronomic terrorism.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," you laugh as you turn to leave, one final thought stopping you in the kitchen's entryway. "Oh, and Sera?" you call out, turning back to face the plotting rogue one last time. "Let's remember to wash your hands."

"Yea, yea, yea..." she waves you off, barely listening as she rummages through the pantry. "When you wash your balls."

With a smirk, you close the door behind you and exit the kitchens, fleeing the scene of your culinary crime. You barely take two steps into the courtyard before you hear a loud "Blech, raisins!" followed by the sound of another loud, banging crash. "...Oops."

You decide to figuratively wash your hands of the whole situation as you wander back from the kitchens to the main hall for some much-needed shut-eye before your big day of travel tomorrow. You could sleep peacefully tonight knowing Skyhold would be well under your control while you play the role of an Orlesian party debutant for a week.