[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]

It is, without question, absolutely perfect.

Cullen looks at it, eyes very wide.

"You... made this?" he asks, low, wondering.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods.

Rubbing the back of his hair again, he says, "I thought it might be a bit more portable than the real thing."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen looks up.

His eyes are bright.

"Alistair -- it's perfect."

[bringspeopletogether]

Oh, thank the Maker, he likes it.

Alistair brightens visibly; he reaches to cradle Cullen's cheek. "I figured I'd give it to you later," he says, "try to make it look a bit nicer, but then with you going away -- "

Gently, his thumb traces Cullen's scar.

"Won't do to have you out there completely alone."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Not at all." Low, and a little unsteady; he turns his head enough to kiss Alistair's palm. "I -- don't know what possessed you, but -- "

I needed this, he doesn't say.

"I'd... thought it might be -- nice. To have something like it. Thank you."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Then I'm even more glad I made it," he murmurs.

He drops a light kiss on the crown of Cullen's head.

"You're welcome. I love you."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen takes that as an invitation to drop his forehead against Alistair's shoulder.

Muffled: "Are you sure you won't come along?"

[bringspeopletogether]

With a long sigh, Alistair winds his arms around him. He presses his cheek to Cullen's hair.

Eventually, with marked reluctance: "I think you were right, that I'd slow you down too much."

[howtoactfereldan]

After a moment, Cullen nods.

"All right." Soft. Dejected. "It won't be for long."

[bringspeopletogether]

"It won't," he agrees, no louder.

His arms tighten around Cullen.

"I'm sorry."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Don't apologize," he murmurs against Alistair's neck. "It's no one's fault."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods, unhappily. Another soft sigh follows.

(He's doing his best to head off the old thoughts at the pass: if I could just get better faster than this -- )

"And someday," he says, "we'll get to be selfish with one another. Just you, me, and all our mabari."

[howtoactfereldan]

"...how about just you and me."

He settles his forehead in the crook of Alistair's shoulder.

"That's what I want, right now. More than anything."

[bringspeopletogether]

How difficult would it be? How much would he truly slow down Cullen and Farrow, if he came along?

He doesn't know. Therein lies the problem: if he doesn't know for certain, then he can't risk it, and possibly risk Cullen's life along with it.

Alistair shuts his eyes; tightens his embrace. "We have a little time yet," he whispers. He sounds more hoarse than he did a moment ago.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen nods, and doesn't say anything for a moment.






"I'm trying to think of things to write you." That, at least, is a little lighter. "I'm not very good at it."

[bringspeopletogether]

A small, faintly choked laugh. "If all you can muster is 'still alive, pawn to A3,' that's all right," he says. "I'll write five pages in reply and between us, we'll even out to one normal letter."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Perfect."

Cullen raises his head -- not far. "Let's go to bed?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"Let's," he agrees, soft, and kisses Cullen's hair again before pulling away.

(Also not too much.)

[howtoactfereldan]

At least he doesn't have much to pack. He can just -- get dressed in the morning. And take time now.







Cullen curls himself around Alistair, fiddling with the ends of his bracelet. He's sleepier than he'd like to admit.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair works an arm around him in turn, holding him close.





"If it'd make you miss me less," he says, as light as he can, "I could send you off with a list of every truly awful joke I can think up. You could read them when you're sad, and either revel in their awfulness or be relieved I'm not telling you them in person."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen doesn't reply right away.



"Promise me," he says, softly, "if you need me, you won't hesitate to send a bird. And you'll take care of yourself. At least try to sleep. And remember how many people stand between you and danger."

It's not so much missing Alistair as worrying about him.

[bringspeopletogether]

"I promise."

If it were any other night, he might crack a joke about Cullen fussing. Not tonight.

(Not the least because, honestly, Alistair could use a little fussing right now.)

"I'll go out and count the guards myself if need be."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Find Harding, if you can. She'll give you good information. And she's -- kind."

She was at Adamant. She knows. And she knows not to bring up anything.

"Trust yourself. Because you can. And if you can't do that, remember I trust you."

[bringspeopletogether]

He can feel his throat tightening. Alistair shuts his eyes.

"Can you..." Hesitant. (Like he's requesting something far more ridiculous than what follows.) "Tell me why you trust me?"

So he knows. So he can remember, if things get bad.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Two months doesn't destroy a lifetime of good instincts."

Cullen tightens his hold on Alistair. "You've done the work to get here. And it was hard work. Yesterday you did the right thing and followed the chain of command just as you ought to. And frankly, Alistair -- " Wry. "You didn't give in to me just now asking if you wouldn't change your mind and come along."

He raises his head just enough to kiss Alistair's shoulder. "Anything that might be conceivably wrong is overcome by what's very right with you."