[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

Herald's Rest gets as crowded as any respectable small-town tavern come nightfall. Considering Skyhold's a village unto itself nowadays, that's no surprise.

Maryden's holding her usual court over near the fire, her song weaving in and out of the noise: voices, laughter, shouts, clattering. Bull's there, towering over half the crowd even while seated, deep in enthusiastic conversation with Krem, but the rest of the Chargers don't seem to be anywhere near. When Alistair stands still, he's pretty sure he can hear about five different languages in a ten-foot radius.

He's nothing strange or remarkable in here. It's...nice.

And there's alcohol. Even nicer.

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen looks left, looks right; sees that the present gaggle of Orlesian nobility has retired to their rooms.

"Doubtful," he says. "No one worth monitoring at this hour."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Good."

Alistair relaxes -- which has the unfortunate side effect of making him stumble a bit on his next step, but he quickly regains his balance and keeps moving.

More blasted stairs. So many stairs. But it's the last flight they need to conquer before crossing to the more private bank of rooms, one of which Alistair adopted upon his arrival.

[howtoactfereldan]

Why did he suggest to Alistair that he take up residence in these rooms? Why not something more accessible? Maybe they could repair the walls and Alistair could take up residence in the broken tower where Cullen hides his cards.

There's still a nice, gentle glow, courtesy of the alcohol, but it's cold outside, and windy, and Cullen's ready to hunker down for the night.

[bringspeopletogether]

Oh, look, there's his bed. Beds are excellent. Whoever invented beds should be crowned the next Herald of Andraste. Genius, that.

Alistair gets his arm unhooked from around Cullen's shoulders and drops onto the mattress with a groan of relief. Aside from the bed, the room's quite sparse -- a stack of books, a stand bearing Alistair's Warden armor (gathering a fine scrim of dust), an unlit candle that will likely stay unlit for now due to fire plus drunkenness being a terrible combination.

"Thanks," he sighs, and lists sideways until his head hits the pillows. "...Can you stay a bit? Just 'til I'm asleep. Won't take long, I promise."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Of course." Quiet, as he kneels; Alistair's boots need to come off.

(Alistair wanted to drink in the tavern; Cullen thought it prudent to clear as much of his schedule and obligations as possible through midday tomorrow. Though he'd rather expected something more... volatile... than what this evening's turned out to be.)

[bringspeopletogether]

"Thank you," he says again.

Oh, right. Boots. That's a thing that needs to happen too. Alistair stays still, and quiet, as Cullen works at his laces.





"You swear you weren't too miserable tonight?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Off comes one boot.

"I wasn't miserable at all." Mild. "I'm not some hermit in a cave."

And the other. "I prefer quiet places. And we found one."

Cullen sits on the edge of the bed and starts toeing off his own boots. "Once we got upstairs, it was quite pleasant."

He'll have to get his armor tomorrow. Maybe Cole will take custody of it. THAT WOULD REALLY HELP, he thinks, loudly, just in case.

[bringspeopletogether]

"All right." A small sigh of relief. "Good."

He tucks one arm under his pillow, curls up a bit to get more comfortable.

"Make sure you sleep. And eat something. And don't do any reports until tomorrow morning, they'll keep. Double Commander's orders."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's stretched out by the time the string of orders is finished, head on the pillow, fingers linked behind his head.

"Yes, Double Commander." Amused.

[bringspeopletogether]

It finally occurs to Alistair that Cullen's making himself comfortable in a way that indicates he'll be sticking around after Alistair falls asleep. He probably ought to protest, but...it's not like he wants Cullen to leave.

Far from it.

He attempts a firm nod -- though it's not really stable enough to qualify as such -- and lets his eyes fall closed. Still awake, for now; just resting.

[howtoactfereldan]

It's a long, cold walk back to his office, and Alistair did ask Cullen to stay, and if he doesn't move he can pretend that Cole will make sure nobody makes off with his armor, and if somebody does make off with his armor it's not like there's not a fortress full of armor right here.

He should probably make sure there's water, for when Alistair wakes. But that would require getting up. And that would disturb Alistair, who's trying to fall asleep.

Surely it's all right just to stay here where it's warm, blinking at the ceiling.

[bringspeopletogether]

"D'you think Bull's ever got stuck somewhere because he can't get through the door?"

Drowsy; half-mumbled.

[howtoactfereldan]

"I have it on excellent authority -- "

Varric.

(Iffy authority, at best.)

" -- that Bull told Vivienne that he tries to use his horns to knock the frame loose."

[bringspeopletogether]

A beat; then, slowly, Alistair dissolves into snickers.

"All I can think is -- " He makes a vague, loose gesture parallel to the floor. "Is big holes at the top of every door in the tavern -- "

Like a Bull-shaped Bugs Bunny cutout, if Bugs Bunny existed in Thedas.

[howtoactfereldan]

"I gather his horns have lost every one of those fights."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Poor Bull." Still laughing a little. Clearly, Alistair is not that sympathetic to the Qunari's plight. "I believe it, from the state of them."

The laughs trail into another yawn; he stifles it with the back of his hand.

[howtoactfereldan]

"I'm going to tell him you said that," Cullen says cheerfully, "and then you'll have to hear all his theories about how impressive racks are signs of assorted qualities that most people don't discuss in mixed company."

[bringspeopletogether]

Aaaaaaand Alistair's off again.

"Unfair," he manages around his laughter, and buries his face in his pillow. "Unfair saying that when I'm this drunk, dammit -- "

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen stretches.

Smugly.

"My revenge is complete."

[bringspeopletogether]

Still laughing, Alistair balls up one hand and gives Cullen a weak slug on the arm.

He's at the point where, of the two drunken side effects in play, sleepy is beginning to win out over uncontrollable giggling. As the laughter peters out again, he shifts closer so he can tuck his head against Cullen's shoulder.

[howtoactfereldan]

"First you punch me, and now I'm a pillow?"

He heaves a sigh as he works his arm around Alistair. "I see how it is."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Have to make sure the pillow's nice and soft before I put my head on it."

Serene.

[howtoactfereldan]

"And now you're calling me soft?"

His free hand goes to his chest, the better to indicate his immense shock and despair.

"I'm not sure I can handle such a blow to my confidence."

[bringspeopletogether]

"It's all right, Commander, I'll keep your secret."

After one or two tries, he manages to pat Cullen's hand reassuringly.

"I'll tell everybody you're the toughest and least pillow-like man I know."

[howtoactfereldan]

"...what a ringing endorsement."