[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

Skyhold gets quieter and quieter as the days move on. It's not a complete stand-down; there's cleanup to do, stragglers to round up, the same sort of business Alistair remembers from the months after the Blight. The Thaw, as Wardens call it. Thedas is thawing again, but the fortress only grows colder for it.

He won't lie: he'd feel warmer if Kieran and Morrigan were still there.

When Cullen suggests a vacation, Alistair lights up, only to deflate slightly when he realizes they'll be "vacationing" in Orlais. There's business to attend in Val Royeaux -- not the sort of business that'll keep Cullen occupied from sunup to sundown, but enough to require an in-person visit for a week or so. On the one hand: Orlais. On the other: he can't argue that time away from Skyhold, especially in Cullen's company, will help.

...So will the cheese, probably.

(Look, as Alistair has said many a time, he is a very predictable man.)

They room at a small place in the university quarter that's downright plain for Val Royeaux. Libraries for Cullen, a cafe around the corner for both of them, limited contact with people trilling about whatever stupid, petty scandal's hit the court this week -- it could be far worse. Alistair takes to writing his letters at the cafe, usually accompanied by some flaky pastry or another.

Today, they're cheese-filled. It's hard to descend too far into a personal funk when you've got a cheese-filled pastry.

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

There's the question of the mages, of course. There's the necessity of patrolling the Emprise and the highlands, and finding the best ways to remove red lyrium from the land. There are still rifts for Lavellan to close, and a balance to strike: enough forward camps that Lavellan has the resources she needs, without taking away supplies, manpower, and gold from other places that need it more.

It got complicated for Cullen -- needlessly so, he thinks. Something was wrong, for a while. Felt like he was wandering in a fog, unable to see his own thoughts. Felt mildly feverish. Nothing worth complaining about. No reason to stop working. Rylen's people stepped up, all across Orlais; Briony and Sidonie planned between them at Skyhold, suggesting modifications to the usual supply routes, keeping strict track of who wanted to muster out and go home, and what they were due. In a few weeks (after more regular and better sleep) the fog withdrew, some, and Cullen sent Briony on furlough.

(Permission to tag along? Sidonie asked with a straight face, staring at the wall, and Cullen proves himself capable of catching a clue, and wishes them a good time in Jader.)

The business isn't very pressing -- more supply chain matters, things to be discussed and renegotiated. Those take up two meetings of a few hours each. The rest of the time... well. It's Cullen's turn for furlough, or what passes for it. Josephine had insisted. He receives a briefing each day at noon; that gives him and Alistair time for a nice lie-in, and a little training to stay in shape (and work off the cheese and pastries), and allows him to spend the afternoon slipping into a lecture hall or two, and searching for copies of a few engineering treatises that pique his interest.

One such lands on the table next to Alistair, with a slate on top. Cullen sits in front of them, immediately after resting a warm hand on Alistair's shoulder in greeting.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair looks up as the treatise lands, and further up, with a warm smile, when Cullen touches his shoulder. He covers Cullen's hand long enough to give it a brief squeeze; once Cullen sits, Alistair nudges the pastry plate closer.

"Today's offering," he says. "I can get another if you'd like?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen shakes his head. "Already asked for it, along with soup." Alistair gets a crooked smile. "You can have either. But not both."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair exhales a brief laugh. "I'm fine with this," he says, reclaiming the plate. "Thank you, though."

He leans to get a better look at the treatise.

"What's the topic today?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"Advances in the architecture of dams," Cullen says peacefully. "Dependent on a kind of mathematics that is new to me. Lots to do before I can understand it."

He does not sound disturbed by this in the slightest.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair has accepted by now that he will never understand Cullen's idea of fun. It keeps him happy, though; that's all Alistair needs to understand.

So while there may be a slight wrinkle to his nose, he's still smiling, faintly, as he keeps eyeing the treatise.

And then, no less serene: "Dam mathematics."

[howtoactfereldan]

Without missing a beat: "You're sleeping on the floor tonight."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Somebody had to say it, you know they did -- "

Struggling not to laugh.

[howtoactfereldan]

"The mathematics itself is separate from the issue of dams."

Pause.

"You dam novice."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair snorts a laugh so loud and undignified that it turns a couple heads. He presses the side of his hand to his mouth in a futile effort to contain the rest.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen is abominably smug.

"Control yourself, Alistair, we're in public," he says, not meaning a word of it.

[bringspeopletogether]

In lieu of words -- which he still can't quite form yet -- Alistair settles for pulling a face at Cullen.

"They already think we're savages because we're Fereldan, what's a little more laughter," he manages eventually.

[howtoactfereldan]

Very seriously:

"You know how much I care about local opinion."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Oh, yes." He's contained himself enough to pull off a reasonable deadpan by now. "Simply devastated by it, I'm sure. Ready to start an invasion at any minute, your honor's so impinged."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I'd have to challenge you to a public duel." Solemn. "Which we both know I'd win."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Are you sure about that, Cullen?"

He props his chin in one hand.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen gives Alistair a shameless grin. "Do you know a reason why I wouldn't?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair shrugs; offers a crooked smile. "Training hasn't been going that terribly lately for me, has it?"

[howtoactfereldan]

So much for Cullen's grin.

"Sorry." Quieter. "Of course it hasn't."

[bringspeopletogether]

Quickly, Alistair shakes his head and waves off the apology.

"It's all right." His smile's more rueful, now. "No need to apologize."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's reddened, a little -- but he doesn't contradict Alistair.

(It's an interesting role reversal: this time he's the one taking the joke too far.)

"I should..." He gestures at the letter in progress. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

[bringspeopletogether]

"No need to apologize for that, either." Softer.

He catches one of Cullen's hands in another short squeeze.

"I never mind the interruption."

[howtoactfereldan]

He's staring furiously at the tabletop. "Still. I -- "

And he fishes about in his jacket for his pencil. "I should... there's -- things to look at."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Right." He makes a conscious effort to lighten his voice. "Those dam mathematics."

Alistair picks up his quill, bending over the letter again. He'll figure out what he wants to say to Kieran. Yes. Any minute now.

...He might have to resort to doodling some nugs in the margins first, however.

(The slump to his shoulders -- which has been there more often than not these past few weeks -- begins its gradual return.)

[howtoactfereldan]

It's hard to set yourself to learning calculus when you're --

Not upset, Cullen thinks. That would be entirely too dramatic. Disgruntled. Unsettled? Unsettled.

Still. It's better than trying to say anything.





Unfortunately, an unmasked barmaid brings over his soup -- onion, with melted cheese covering the top -- and a large hank of still-warm bread, so Cullen can't use fluid dynamics as an excuse any longer.