[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

Back to Skyhold. Back to work.

Alistair resumes training with the Chargers a few days after his and Cullen's return; the company got back from Halamshiral just before the Basin group showed up, Bull explains, so he was giving them a rest before picking up exercises again. Krem fills Alistair in on all the details as they're exchanging blows. Some of it is just Orlesian Worst Game Ever nonsense, but since it ends with a whole lot of shamefaced nobles with no mercenaries to their names, Alistair's pretty damn pleased.

(Maybe he can get the new mercenaries in on his plan to dress up the training dummies in Orlesian garb. Hmmmmmm.)

Cullen's in a war room meeting by the time Alistair's done. He throws some water on his face and heads for the kitchens -- maybe he can split a small meal with Kieran before Morrigan's return.

Comments

[bringspeopletogether]

He went two months without food. (As far as he remembers, anyway.) Surely he can last the day.

The problem is that his body's gotten used to proper nourishment again, and so, a little at a time, the gnawing in his gut becomes more insistent. Alistair finally gives in and leaves the bridge. Easy enough to grab an apple and some bread, and then maybe --

His old quarters are probably taken by now. No harm in checking, though. He trudges up the familiar stairs, pushes open the door to the balcony to cross over --




He could recognize that coat from fifty paces. (So could most of Skyhold, granted.) Alistair stands rooted in the doorway, his throat tightening abominably.

(There's the problem, isn't it. He has a reason to stay alive. Though, well -- if this has been an illusion, maybe the real Cullen won't care as much if he doesn't come back from the Fade.)

Silently as he can, he retreats, closing the door behind him. He'll go eat in the tower. After that -- he'll see.

[howtoactfereldan]

Half an hour later, the scraping of a chair in the hall wakes him. Cullen notes his head feels -- clearer. When he holds up a hand, he can barely notice the tremor.

Good enough.

To the infirmary, then, to see to the convalescing soldiers: prayers, cards, letters home. After a few hands of cards he recuses himself: his heart's not in it, and there are other things he can do to kill time.

And one thing he should do.








Was it worth it? Leliana's eyes are sharp. Sharper than usual. Cullen doesn't look away.

Any weapon can be broken, he tells her. Should the worst come to pass, knowing how to break that orb might make the difference for us.

You should have come to me.

Cullen shakes his head. There was no need.

He made you unwell, Leliana says, softer.

Cullen can't really deny that one.

Finally, Leliana sighs, and stands, walking toward her corner shrine. Come. Tell me what he said. Then we can decide what to do.

[bringspeopletogether]

A fun side effect of barely eating, barely sleeping, and then spending hours keeping your own private watch on the bridge: it makes you tired. Far more tired than Alistair expected.

Kieran's up in their quarters, quietly reading something he found in the library. He's doing as fine as anyoe might expect. Alistair doesn't have the wherewithal to chat for more than a few minutes, but it's better than nothing, he supposes. He leaves him to it and retreats to the chaise.

Stiffly, he sheds his armor. Heaps it at the foot of the chaise, too worn out to put it back on its stand yet. Not the best way to care for it, but it's not like it'll have to last much longer. How long did Cullen say? A few days to reach Haven? So the Breach will change in a few days, they'll have a few days more before Corypheus's forces arrive, if they're lucky --

Either way. Less than a week.

He curls up to sleep.

[howtoactfereldan]

He's not entirely sure how it happens, but they wind up back on Vivienne's balcony, joined by Josephine, with two bottles of wine and some sort of Antivan smoked fish and dried fruit that Josephine had been saving for a special occasion.

Cullen doesn't drink much -- just tilts his head back against the arm of the chaise and listens to Leliana and Josephine trading stories, tossing verses of songs back and forth until Leliana provides a different set of lyrics to each one in Orlesian, and every subsequent iteration gets filthier and filthier until he's positive he's bright red and Josephine says, We should have had Cullen helping with our translation work ages ago, if his vocabulary is this well-rounded and Cullen blurts, I'd rather be pickled and fed to the Avvar, and Leliana laughs in a way Cullen's never heard from her and reaches for the lute Vivienne has had leaning artfully against a pile of books for months.

She tsks softly as she tunes it, and then tries a few chords.

Not Andraste's Mabari, you fiend, Cullen says without opening his eyes, pointing in the direction of the lute noise. You absolute -- villain.

Leliana laughs again, and then picks out the melody line to one of the first hymns children learn in the Chantry. Satisfied, then, she begins to sing.

Even as the sun goes down, the light from the new Breach remains, casting through the stained glass, making the rose window above them glow. It's -- not unpleasant.

He glances down, and sees that Leliana has an audience: people with their faces turned up, cautious faces, fearful faces, hopeful faces.




There was another night like this one, somewhere near Haven.




Cullen finishes the contents of his glass as Leliana finishes the first verse, and picks up with her on the second.

[bringspeopletogether]

When Alistair bolts awake, everything's tinged green. No torches, no light, nothing but --

(If Kieran's still awake, he can't see him like this.)

He barely hesitates before sprinting through the door and out into the cool night air, stumbling to a wavery halt against one of the walls. Alistair braces against it with both hands, gasping for air; the backs of his hands look dead, half-rotted in the light.

This is it, he thinks.

Except...it's too quiet. Nothing but the wind and the sound of one of the torches spitting against the wall.

And -- singing?

It's not Maryden. He doesn't think it is, at any rate; it's too faint to be sure. Alistair breathes, trying to pick out the melody. After a moment, he's able to straighten up.

A few moments after that, he has enough of his bearings to pinpoint the sound: it's coming from the great hall.

Maker knows he could use the distraction. He heads that way.

[howtoactfereldan]

Leliana picks simple songs -- not the Chant itself, but adjacent songs, songs written by people. The Orlesian ones Cullen doesn't know, Josephine takes. He'd known she, too, was a bard, but had forgotten until she winds harmonies along Leliana's voice that, strangely, make him think of Kirkwall. But Kirkwall was closer to Antiva, he thinks; it wasn't out of the ordinary, there.

We should go downstairs, he says, softly. To let them join with us.

Leliana nods, tuning again. One more, and we shall. One you should know. Join me.

It's her business to know things. Cullen knows that. But there's no reason for her to know he has a very clear and sharp memory of his mother singing it the night before he was to leave for the Chantry. A good memory, still. After everything.

So Leliana takes the first line of the old parting song on her own, before Cullen lets out a long breath and picks up the harmony, to provide the benediction.

[bringspeopletogether]

Ten paces from the door, he recognizes one voice: Leliana. Unsurprising.

Five paces out, the second voice joins it, and Alistair stops in his tracks.

He hasn't heard Cullen sing very often; not since they were young. Age has roughened his voice, but it still carries clear and sweet. He rests a hand on the door frame, debating -- and then silently slips inside to lean against a wall near the back.

...And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

[howtoactfereldan]

After some silent communication, Cullen drops out to let Leliana take the last repeated line on her own.

He stretches, feeling -- calmer. He'll be a little unsteady on his feet, he thinks, but nothing that a few more hours of sleep won't fix.

Leliana sings the last line without the lute, and as soon as her voice fades, there's silence in the hall.





"Isn't there any more?" asks a plaintive voice from the floor.

Josephine immediately gets to her feet, leaning over the balcony. "Yes, but we're coming down to join you, and you simply must sing with us." This is met with a cheer.

Orlesian bards are good for something, Cullen muses. Like morale.

Josephine goes down the stairs first. Then Leliana. Cullen lets them make landing in the hall before he goes through the door, starts down the stairs.

[bringspeopletogether]

That could leave him with time to escape before Cullen sees him, if he wanted.

He doesn't move.

Leliana catches his eye; he smiles, faintly, and tips his head in a nod, but doesn't approach. It's reasonable that everyone else will mistake him for part of the wall, right?

[howtoactfereldan]

There's Alistair.

Without Kieran, Cullen notes, and -- not visibly cringing, or pacing, or anything else that might give away panic.

So there's warmth in Cullen's smile, and a little relief, too.

[bringspeopletogether]

That's --

All right. That's good. Cullen's actually pleased to see him.

Alistair's smile stays small as he pushes away from the wall, picking his way through the crowd to reach Cullen's side.

[howtoactfereldan]

There are shadows under his eyes, but Cullen is calm.

"All right?" Quiet.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods.

No louder: "You?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"Did something a little foolish."

He folds his arms, turning toward Leliana and Josephine. If his shoulder touches Alistair's, what of it?

"But it turned out to be useful. Let's hope the side effects are worth it."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair certainly doesn't mind. He gives Cullen's shoulder a small, companionable nudge.

"You'll tell me later?"

[howtoactfereldan]

A wry half-smile.

"As long as you promise not to scold me."

[bringspeopletogether]

"I promise." He holds up a hand. "Solemnly sworn on a wheel of cheese, if need be."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Yelling counts as scolding," he informs Alistair.

[bringspeopletogether]

"So noted."

His smile goes a bit crooked, though it remains fond.

"Does saying 'this is beginning to sound more than a little foolish' count as well?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"Yes." Firm.

[bringspeopletogether]

"All right."

Another small nudge.

"Then I never said it." Lower, "You'll tell me if I can help with any of the side effects too, yes?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Well. No. Not after this morning.

"Shouldn't need to." No louder. "They're better than they were. But thank you."

A little too formal. Maybe just a product of being surrounded by people.

[bringspeopletogether]

Maybe.

It's still enough for Alistair to lapse back into silence, after another nod, and turn his attention to Leliana and Josephine.

[howtoactfereldan]

Josephine is fielding song requests, Leliana thinking, testing out quick melodies in different keys.

Cullen says, softly, without looking Alistair's way, "Want to get out of here? We can stay, if you'd rather."

[bringspeopletogether]

He shakes his head. No louder: "Let's go."

It'll be nice to have some privacy. Or something like it, being as the alternative is a crowded hall.