[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair surprises himself: he adapts to the Basin a lot quicker than he expected.

The camps feel -- snug, he decides. In a good way. Trees overhead, a limited number of egress points, a vantage point so high it puts every night by the ladder to shame: they're not the stone walls of Skyhold, but maybe they're the next best thing. After an initial restless night or two, he sleeps soundly.

(Knowing he's surrounded by lots of people with sharp, pointy weapons? Also helpful.)

Joining the patrol rotations seems like a decent next step. No point in being in the field, especially after all that training with Bull, if he's just going to twiddle his thumbs all day.

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

"Says the man who won't admit front-combing is terrible," Cullen mutters. His heart's not really in it.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair notices.

It's why he doesn't try to keep the banter going; just stays close, and keeps his arm around Cullen, as the sky continues deepening toward black.

[howtoactfereldan]

There's metal in the way. He can't very well do anything else, outside the palisade, in the eyes of the Inquisition. They're in a hostile environment; armor stays on.

But he's tired.

Cullen rubs his free hand over his eyes, and lets it drop, heavy.

"I can ask Harding to hold any further reports until first light." He shouldn't sound defeated. "Will that do?"

[bringspeopletogether]

There's a particular squirmy feeling that comes with an argument won unfairly; Alistair's tamping down on it now, trying not to fidget.

"If you need to work more tonight," he says, "then work. I meant it when I said that's all right." Another small squeeze. "All I ask is you get enough rest and food."

[howtoactfereldan]

I'm not a child, he almost snaps.

Almost.

But instead Cullen nods. "Right." Quiet.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair lapses back into silence.

I'm sorry, he wants to say again. I'm sorry I get in the way. I'm sorry I fuss. I'm sorry I'm too much, or not enough, or if you think it was a mistake to bring me here --

He swallows down the words -- and the lump in his throat -- and breathes.

(He's trying to remind himself: if the little voice in the back of his head sounds like Goldanna, it's talking nonsense and should be ignored.

It scares him, though, every time a conversation with Cullen deadlocks into tense silence.)

[howtoactfereldan]

When they devolve into silence, Cullen's generally working hard to keep his temper in check. Now is certainly no exception.

He makes himself breathe, deep and even. He recites the first chunk of the Chant in his head. He pictures his frustration calcified into bone, crushed into dust, blown away by the wind.









"I don't think I clarified well enough," he says, after a long moment. "The point is -- we can do whatever we like in that tent, as long as it's very quiet."

There: the beginnings of a smirk.

"Experience suggests that's its own kind of fun."

[bringspeopletogether]

Slowly, Alistair begins to smile.

"I certainly had a nice time, last we tried it," he says, as serene as he can manage.

[howtoactfereldan]

"You also did a very bad job at being quiet." Stifling a laugh. "Surprise of the year."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Which obviously means I need to practice more."

He turns to face Cullen, sliding his other arm around him as well.

"If you're willing to be of assistance, ser."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen mirrors him. "The stakes are high," he warns, lightly. "Should you make too much noise, I'll be forced to stop whatever I'm doing immediately."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Ooooh."

Alistair pulls an exaggerated wince.

"A hard bargain. I'll really have to stay on my best behavior."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I have faith in you." A crooked smile. "Especially when you're presented with some decent incentive."

[bringspeopletogether]

"One of the best incentives, I should say."

His own smile goes a bit sheepish.

"Or is that too mushy?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen is laughing quietly. "Not at all. It's flattering. And it also affirms that you, Theirin, are only after one thing."

[bringspeopletogether]

"A nice night with the man I love."

He kisses Cullen's forehead.

"That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"...perhaps using different words." Laughing, still. "But yes. Yes."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Excellent."

He wraps his arms more securely around Cullen and sets his chin on his shoulder.

After a moment, softer: "We're all right?"

[howtoactfereldan]

This would be an excellent time not to be wearing armor, he thinks. Cullen sighs softly into Alistair's hair.

He murmurs, "We're wonderful."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Good," he whispers in Cullen's ear.

He pulls back a little so he can take Cullen's face in his hands. Alistair doesn't kiss him right away. Instead, he just studies him, smiling softly.

[howtoactfereldan]

This kind of close scrutiny is -- uncomfortable. After a moment his eyes flick away, then back, and away again.

"What?" Still smiling, but -- sheepish. Bashful.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Nothing."

Another I'm sorry rises in his throat. He swallows it down again.

No use saying what he's thinking; trying to put that warm pressure in his chest into words, and embarrassing Cullen to death in the process. So Alistair opts to kiss him, finally, long and lingering.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Do you know," he murmurs, eyes still closed, "how close I was to asking if I had something on my face? And the only thing that stopped me was knowing that you would do this, and then yell 'me!'"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair bursts out laughing, thunking his head back onto Cullen's shoulder.

"You know me -- so well -- " he manages.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen carefully pats Alistair's head with a gloved hand. "To my everlasting delight." Solemn.