[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]

Oh.

(Easy enough to infer how he would've finished that sentence. Guilt twinges Alistair's stomach; he pushes it aside.)

"Right." Still soft; still without judgment. "I'll hold down the fort. Keep the spiders out while you're gone."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen shakes his head; pulls his knees more tightly to his chest. "I'm not leaving. Just -- do what you were going to do."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods. He looks back up at the tree, settling more comfortably against the headboard.

Kieran's all right, and free of heartbreak so far. If Alistair goes to the party, he'll spend all of it worrying about Cullen. Not particularly fun.

...If he goes to the party, that would give Cullen some space to recover, though.




"I think I'm going to fetch some dinner," he says. "I can bring something back if you'd like -- or not, if you'd rather."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen lifts his head -- not much, but enough to break that dejected cast to his shoulders.

Considerably lighter:

"If you -- see anything I might like?"

[bringspeopletogether]

He smiles. "Of course."

Alistair leans in just enough to kiss Cullen's temple, then scoots out of bed.

"Love you. Be back soon."

[howtoactfereldan]

Now Cullen stretches out on his back.

"No porridge," he says to the sky.

It's a nice-looking sky, he thinks. No green in it at all, that he can see.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's voice -- and some laughter -- floats back up. "None whatsoever."

The creak of the door opening, the thump of it closing, and then: silence.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen exhales, long, and a little shaky. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes until they hurt.

Leftover from his meeting with Samson, he thinks, a little bleakly. Combined with being so worried for so long, and then just having that worry -- lifted.

He needs to be alone until he can get himself together. And -- thankfully -- it appears as though Alistair is finally beginning to understand that.

[bringspeopletogether]

Every time he tries to back off and give Cullen space, Alistair's hindbrain insists -- despite all evidence to the contrary -- that he's leaving Cullen behind. Discarding him. Abandoning him.

But as he said earlier: he can be trained.




Twenty minutes later, the door creaks again. Alistair heaves his way up the ladder with some effort. It becomes clear why soon enough: he's got an entire basket of food, not just a tray.

"Tiny roast birds of some sort," he announces, "beef stew, little custard tarts, a couple apples, some berries, and a bottle of wine someone shoved at me on the way which can keep for later if you'd like." He sets the basket at the foot of the bed. More sheepishly: "I couldn't decide."

[howtoactfereldan]

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, turned toward Alistair: the smile on Cullen's face is tired, sweet, real.

"Well done, all round. -- shall we begin with the custard tarts?"

Cullen intends to, regardless: it's difficult to shake off a nightmare, but custard tarts tend to speed along the process.

[bringspeopletogether]

He returns the smile. "Absolutely."

Taking a seat next to Cullen, Alistair unearths one of the tarts and passes it over. He digs out another for himself, plus the bowl of berries.

Custard tarts are excellent on their own, but they're even better with one or two fresh berries planted smack in the middle.

[howtoactfereldan]

Given his druthers, Cullen would double-fist those tarts.

Given the events of the day, Cullen figures it's a defensible action.

He promptly leans over Alistair and fishes out another.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair laughs, softly, and nudges the basket closer to Cullen.

"You've first claim to everything else in there, too."

[howtoactfereldan]

They're conveniently small enough that Cullen can cram an entire one in his mouth in one go.

"Ffuh ffuh," he says.

[bringspeopletogether]

....

Alistair cracks up.

"What?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen swallows.

Very dignified:

"I said, thank you."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Ah." Still laughing. "You're welcome."

Alistair wrests himself under control long enough to bite into his own tart.

[howtoactfereldan]

Engaging in juvenile behavior, funnily enough, makes one feel more juvenile. In Cullen's case, that means lifting off some of the weight of... everything.

So he crams the other tart in his mouth, and promptly starts pawing through the rest of the basket.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair, well acquainted with the restorative power of juvenile behavior, is more than content to let this continue. He's grinning broadly as he nibbles on his food.

" -- Oh," he says suddenly, as Cullen rummages around, "I forgot, there's bread and jam in there too."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen, having just produced another tart, looks up, and beams at Alistair.

"Think you could stand to take it out with the bottle of wine, so we can sit up on the battlements and watch the courtyard? Like dessert."

[bringspeopletogether]

He can't resist: Alistair plants a quick kiss in the center of Cullen's forehead.

"That sounds perfect," he says. "Let's."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen wrinkles his nose, still smiling. "We should eat the less portable things first, I suppose."

It didn't take long for responsibility to rear its ugly head again. Gross.

[bringspeopletogether]

But the lack of responsibility was so beautiful while it lasted. Truly, Alistair will cherish it forever.

"I suppose," he echoes. A pause. "...Though I could also point out that everything becomes portable when you place it in a basket."

:D?

[howtoactfereldan]

"...even the beef stew?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"The stew did make it all the way up here without spilling, didn't it?"