[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]

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.

[bringspeopletogether]

Slowly, Alistair looks up, eyes wide as he takes in the sight of the soup.

And the smell.

And the -- everything. Maker, he should've gotten soup. Why didn't he get soup?

His quill drifts to a halt midway through drawing a nug that bears a startling resemblance to Cullen. (He's getting better at them. Half of them aren't even stick figures anymore!)

[howtoactfereldan]

Hard to miss Alistair's reaction.

Tentative: "Do you want this? I'm not really hungry."

(This is a lie. But Cullen also made a mistake. A sacrifice of soup would be appropriate.)

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair hesitates.

"...A little, maybe?" he ventures. (He looks entirely too much like a hopeful dog begging for table scraps.) "Just a bit of the bread and some of the cheese off the top?"

He's not going to take all of Cullen's food, but if he's offering...

[howtoactfereldan]

There. Penance.

In response, Cullen pushes the crockery toward Alistair, and reaches for his tablet again.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Thank you."

Another beat's hesitation -- and Alistair leans to peck Cullen on the cheek, quick and affectionate, before absconding with the soup.

Shortly thereafter, the bowl returns to within easy reach of Cullen, minus a piece of the bread and some of the very, very, very stringy cheese. The letter gets put aside for the moment lest he get any food on it.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen doesn't touch it.

Instead, he flips back and forth among a handful of adjacent pages, squinting at the words, and writes down what might as well be arcane symbols, possibly intended for use as a necromancy manual.

(It smells -- good. Wonderful. But he should ignore it. He can ignore it.)

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair eyes him, in between nibbles of the bread.

He's not really buying this I'm not hungry nonsense; a man doesn't order soup and a pastry if he's not hungry. Maybe Cullen's waiting for it to cool like he waits for his tea to cool. Alistair can hope it's just that, and not that he upset Cullen again.

(He knows he upset Cullen again.)

Bread finished, he adds a few more details to the nug sketch. CULLEN WORKING ON SOME DAM MATHEMATICS, he captions it. NO, REALLY. IT'S MATHEMATICS FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF DAMS. TELL YOUR MOTHER TO STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT.

[howtoactfereldan]

The thing is -- what's in front of him is actually fascinating. Like learning another language, but it's more like building something new. The architecture of dams is one thing; it's the mathematics that has broader application.

(If they intend to stay in Skyhold, it's worth considering building a reservoir near the valley.)

The upshot: it's not long at all before Cullen legitimately forgets the soup, the pastry, and Alistair's presence.

[bringspeopletogether]

Soon enough, the letter's done. Or as done as it's going to get without pulling out another four sheets of paper to cover with meaningless doodles. Alistair's pastry is done, too; all that remains are a few crumbs, which he picks at with his thumb and forefinger.

He could stay long enough to write another letter. He owes one to Mia. No harm in checking in on Warden Cousland, too -- he hasn't heard much from her since that letter she sent the Inquisitor. He could tell her about Lel, assuming the news hasn't reached her yet. (It may not have. It's recent enough that Alistair still devolves into wordless confused noises if the thought crosses his mind.)

Or he could free up the table for someone else and leave Cullen be.

A quick shuffle through his remaining paper proves the latter option's the best one -- he doesn't have enough left to write anything of substantial length. Gathering his things, Alistair rises.

"I'll be in our room." Soft. "See you later?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen looks up, confused for a moment. He blinks up at Alistair. "I -- all right?"

(A good third of his mind is still occupied with integrals.)

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair cracks a tiny, fond smile. "All right," he agrees, before pressing a kiss to Cullen's hair. "Love you. Have fun with your math."

Exit a Warden, stage left.

[howtoactfereldan]

What?

Cullen's still bemused. And, he notices, the soup's uneaten.

It takes about half a minute after Alistair's gone for Cullen to rub a hand over his face and reach for the bowl.