[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]

Cullen's mouth twitches.

"In the future, should you see one dangling before you on a hook, realize it's me, with a fishing pole."

[bringspeopletogether]

"...and where exactly would you be luring me to?"

He's starting to grin.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Dinner with nobles that I can't evade?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"And just as the first dishes arrive," says Alistair, laughing, "I'll burst through the door, chasing the almond, and make a diving leap for it right across the table?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"I was thinking more that you would accompany me."

A crooked smile.

"Misery loves company, and all that."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's smile softens. He covers one of Cullen's hands, lacing their fingers together.

"And this company would also come with sliding terrible nug sketches your way when no one's looking," he says.

[howtoactfereldan]

"It wouldn't be the first time nugs caused a diplomatic incident." His thumb strokes the side of Alistair's hand. "Either that or you'd become a celebrated artist."

[bringspeopletogether]

"I like to think my sketches are improving." Cheerful. "The nugs have legs that aren't sticks anymore. There might even be shading."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Ah, yes, so you'd absolutely become a celebrated portraitist and be hauled off to every noble estate in Orlais."

[bringspeopletogether]

As solemn as he can, Alistair says:

"It's true. No estate's complete without a portrait of the entire family as nugs. Right in the front hall if at all possible."

[howtoactfereldan]

"They'd feed you so much you'd actually turn into a wheel of cheese."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Would you roll me home to safety?"

Hopeful.

[howtoactfereldan]

"...would you want to leave?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"I know how Orlesians work," says Alistair. "Twenty minutes after I turned into a wheel of cheese, they'd break out the cheese knives and come after me."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen laughs softly and, letting go of the pillow, wraps his arms around Alistair in much the same way.

"I swear to you, then," he murmurs into Alistair's ear, "I'd roll you away and protect you with my very life and my very sharp sword, against all incursions of Orlesians with cheese knives, which as I recall are hardly worthy of the name given how blunt they are."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair presses close, one hand cradling the back of Cullen's head. His fingers wind loosely into Cullen's hair.

"My hero," he sighs -- on the verge of laughter -- and kisses him, soft and thorough.

[howtoactfereldan]

For a moment, when it breaks, he buries his face in the crook of Alistair's neck, breathing in.

(It's the only way he can admit to himself that talking about -- the end -- rattled him.)

Then, slowly, Cullen kisses his way up Alistair's neck, observing in between, "The children are easy."

[bringspeopletogether]

His eyes fall closed as his head tips back.

"Mm?"

(Alistair's a little too distracted to say more than that.)

[howtoactfereldan]

"Dragging you -- "

He nips at Alistair's throat.

" -- to another bookshop, I'm afraid."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's breath hitches; escapes as a whimper.

Plaintive: "Right now?"

[howtoactfereldan]

That elicits a low laugh from Cullen -- the kind that rumbles. (The kind that's entirely too knowing.)

"You said you were willing," Cullen reminds him, and nips him again. He spreads his palms open over Alistair's back. "It was your idea."

It wasn't Cullen's intention to get into torture, really. But it's important to recognize opportunity when it appears in front of you.

[bringspeopletogether]

"That was before you -- "

That sentence ends in another swift intake of breath. His fingers tighten in Cullen's hair. One leg slides along his, wrapping around Cullen's calves.

"You're a bad man."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen slides a hand down to knead at Alistair's hip. "Slander," he whispers in Alistair's ear. "Not a good way to get what you want, ser."

[bringspeopletogether]

He shivers, leg winding tighter around Cullen's.

Hoarsely: "What do I need to do?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"You could... retract your statement."

Cullen grips Alistair's thigh, the better to pull Alistair flush against him.

"You could accept some consequences. Which I would determine."

He pauses long enough to give the divot between Alistair's collarbone and throat some attention.

"You have to tell me what you want."