While Iorveth keeps a home in the Alienage now, he's still in the Gallows more often than anywhere else, given it's where he works, and where his lovers favorite people live, sometimes spending the night in the Provost's chambers rather than making the trek home (or, you know, the Provost's roof). He notices the aravel the first time it arrives, though it's sometime when Merrill is out running errands for repair. The second time as well.

The third time, he's stopped near it to examine it closer, looking over the designs and decorations, the structure of it, incredibly curious about the elves of this world and their culture. Much of the Aen Seidhe and the Dalish of Thedas is similar, but things like this they have nothing to compare. As much as he's heard others claim the Dalish are stuck in their lost past, the advent of something like this - a mobile caravan - proves otherwise. Amazing, the things a people comes up with when the survival of their kind depends on that adaptation. Seeing the small, Dalish woman approaching with fabric and wood, Iorveth can only guess she's the owner, as the aravel seems to have more and more repaired on it each time he passes. Lifting a hand, it's both a greeting and an apology. It's probably a little creepy for some random dude to be checking out what is basically your house.

"Ceádmil. Forgive me, I couldn't endure the curiosity." Iorveth says somewhat sheepishly, in what's probably the most polite tone he's spoken to absolutely anyone outside a LotR elf. "This is the first I've seen one of these within a human city's gates."