[oom] denerim

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's used to bolting awake from nightmares. There's never much to do about it besides wait for his heartbeat to slow, count his breaths, and maybe go to the kitchens for some tea once he's certain his legs will carry him. The important part, each time: knowing the moment will pass just as the dream did.

It's different tonight. When he wakes, he can't remember anything that transpired in the Fade. All that it's left behind is a crushing dread, like an ogre pushing its fist into his chest. It doesn't pass.

Something's happened. The thought resolves itself, shaped so irrevocably it must be fact: something bad has happened to Cullen.

He doesn't bother lighting a candle; he stumbles out of bed and navigates to the chest by touch, working at the lock for what feels like an eternity before he gets it open. Alistair snatches out the Trollian device and signs on, scanning the chumproll for Cullen's name. Please be all right, please be all right --

There.

quondamGryphon began trolling jackbootJudex

QG: Cullen?
QG: Are you there?

He rests a hand on his head, trying to count his breaths. Please be all right.

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's white-knuckling it through his day. Ci's been stuck to his side like a burr as he makes himself go through the motions of daily routine, trying to ignore the cold sweats and the headache. There's a bench in the viscount's gardens that allows him to see anyone coming; it's enough that he's willing to distract himself with his Karkat-enhanced book (though not with any of the movies).

Until the notification pops up.

JJ: No, I'm here.

This is, sad to say, Cullen's idea of a joke.