Hmm, grumpy Solas...
Solas sits with his back against one of the stone walls of the Skyhold, looking over a scroll with a deepening frown. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, he tosses the scroll aside and glares at the Inquisitor.
Solas: What is that sound?
Inquisitor: What sound?
Solas: You know very well what sound. It's like...dozens of squealing nugs. It's impossible to concentrate. Has Leliana gone somewhere? You've got to tell her to stop bringing those things back to the Skyhold. The Bull nearly killed himself tripping over one yesterday, and they're inconsolable when she leaves. This is a military stronghold, not a farm.
Inquisitor: You're cute when you're grumpy.
Solas: *glares*
Inquisitor: Oh, all right. They're not nugs. It's the, ah...servants.
Solas: The s--has Cullen been bathing again?
Inquisitor: Maybe.
Solas: Meaning maybe he's just walked through the courtyard, shirtless and dripping wet? Just like he's done every day this week?
Inquisitor: Possibly. Oh come on, the guy's just starting to loosen up a little. He really had no idea how attractive people find him. You can't begrudge him some harmless fun, considering.
Solas: *getting to his feet* You're right. In fact, if this is going to be a daily occurrence, I think there's something I can contribute to help him out.
Inquisitor: You worry me when you smile like that. Maybe you should just stay here and I'll go tell the servants to--
Solas: Not necessary. I'll be right back.
Moments later:

After a chorus of startled yelps and rapid footfalls, the afternoon quiets. Solas returns to his spot, settles himself against the wall with a satisfied smirk, and picks his scroll back up. The Inquisitor stares at the column of smoke rising from the courtyard, eyes wide.
Inquisitor: What was that? You said you were going to help him!
Solas: I did. Since he doesn't seem to be very good at it, somebody needed to dry him off.