It was the kind of late where the lute players had stopped playing and the tavern had emptied out save for its most dutiful of regulars. Even they would be gone before the dawn, and it was likely that Sabriel was one of the few souls left awake in Skyhold. But, she did know where she could find another.

She passes through the kitchens first, takes what's leftover and likely to go stale not long past the morning, then shuffles out again, the small bottled fire tied to her waist that she uses for warmth glowing dimly beneath the hall and the rooms beside it. The library's easy enough to get to, but she goes quietly, almost expertly, with food in tow. Up the stairs and round the rotunda in the shadows.

Ah, there he is.