[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 keeps hold of his hand all the way.

And says, lightly, "Of course you'd never want to sample one."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Never," he says, in the same prim tones.

(Well, almost the same. There might be a thread of laughter in there.)

"I'm a very virtuous man, Cullen. I can look without touching."

[howtoactfereldan]

Very calm:

"So... you'd like that to happen, would you?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair slants a look his way.

Matching Cullen's tone: "Maybe."

The tips of his ears are going pink again.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Of course, that means I'd have to do something worth looking at," he muses. "Do you have any ideas?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"A few."

He leans in, the better to murmur in Cullen's ear.

"Nothing I can share in public, though."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Shame," Cullen says, glancing at a fountain as they pass by. "The moment's disappearing. And it was so... full of potential."

[bringspeopletogether]

"I mean, if you'd rather I follow through on that other promise..."

He sneaks a kiss just beneath Cullen's earlobe.

"...and take my shirt off in the confectionary when you hand over some more almonds..."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen shivers a little, and glares at Alistair.

(But he can't quite keep from smiling.)

"I like that one, don't forget."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair returns the smile, all innocence and light, and says, "Oh, believe me. I would never."

They still have a few days yet, after all.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen clears his throat.





And again. "Books." Determined. "Or... we give up. And go back."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair is struggling so hard to keep a straight face. It's only about half-working.

"Oh, look," he says, and points with his free hand, "a shop. With books. That seems promising for book things. As...bookshops tend to be."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen scowls at him, and says (mouth twitching), "Yes, thank you, I wasn't aware."

Thankfully they have exactly what Cullen had in mind, and they'll make arrangements to have the books sent to their rooms. Cullen doesn't blink at the price, signing to allow the shop to draw on the bank account Josephine insisted on setting up for him.

He glances at Alistair. "Anything else?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's eyeing a book on the Avvar, trying to remember if Kieran's read it already. He thinks he has. Maybe? The title sounds familiar, but he supposes there are only so many variations on The Avvar and Their History you can get before it all starts to blur together.

Cullen's words stir him from his thoughts. "I don't think so," he says, giving the book a final once-over before returning it to the shelves. "We can check the confectionary tomorrow?"

And maybe another bookshop. Or a trinket shop that might have some toy soldiers or two.

(He finds his thoughts drifting to Warden Lucas; the little wooden mabari he wrapped in paper alongside the letter to his family. With a barely audible sigh, he shakes it off.)

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen nods, eyeing him for a moment. "Still have to come up with something for the rest of them anyhow." Light.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Yes." He musters up a smile; it's tired, at the edges. He holds open the shop door for Cullen. "Who's the lucky recipient of each book? Or are you going to leave them to squabble over their favorites?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"They'll share." Quiet. Firm. "Mia will see to it. That's why the confectionary, tomorrow -- something they won't have to share."

He slips his hand back in Alistair's, stroking the back with his thumb.

(Alistair, he notes, wasn't -- off. When they left.)

"We didn't have much in the way of reading material, when we were young." Time to prattle, Cullen supposes. "We could read and write, and do sums and the like. But there was plenty we wanted to know. And even if it -- was better, after I left them, I can't imagine they had time to pack everything up. Or keep anything worth selling. So they'll share."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods. He winds his fingers snug with Cullen's, bringing his focus around to their hands.

"Would've snuck the lot of you into the Redcliffe library if I could." Another crooked smile. "If I'd known you then. And South Reach wasn't half a week's journey away."

[howtoactfereldan]

"We were a day away, back then." Softly. "Not that it makes a difference. Just that -- they have a chance at a future, now. This is the best way I can help."

Not by being present. He's got the gold; the thought of showing up is -- overwhelming. He can help his nieces and nephews from afar. No doubt they'd prefer it that way.

[bringspeopletogether]

It isn't the time or the place to argue, no matter how gently. (It may never be the time or place, Alistair's come to learn.) Besides, Warden Lucas, Kieran, the Calling -- it all keeps dragging his thoughts a pace or two back, much as he tries to pick up his feet. He wouldn't be able to come up with anything decent.

"I'm glad," is all he murmurs.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Now I just... have to figure out what I can send my siblings that won't be frivolous or -- offensive," he mutters.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Practical and inoffensive might be difficult to find here."

A half smile; a squeeze of Cullen's hand.

"Unless it's something practical that's just -- a bit nicer. Pens. Soaps. I don't know."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen laughs softly.

"Alistair. Even I know you don't send a Fereldan woman Orlesian soaps, unless you're trying to offend her."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair huffs a breath, his smile turning more rueful.

"I must not be thinking clearly," he says. "All this Orlesian air. Clouds the mind. That's why they really wear masks: to block it all out."

[howtoactfereldan]

"...unless you'd like me to get you some soap?"