[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

[bringspeopletogether]

"Perfect," he sighs. His hand drifts to one of the pillows. "Thank you."

The knots in his neck take longer to ease than the ones in his back, but gradually, they give way, becoming pliant under Cullen's touch.

[howtoactfereldan]

"We don't have anywhere to be." Softly. "Rest, Alistair. It's all right."

[bringspeopletogether]

A soft, wry laugh.

"I'm trying," he says; it has a faint air of apology to it. Not like the tension he carries is Cullen's doing -- rather the opposite.

[howtoactfereldan]

"I know."

He brushes a hand over Alistair's hair.

"Anywhere else?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"No," he murmurs. "I think I'm good."

A beat; a twitch of a smile.

"I could make up a spot or two if you want to keep your hands on me."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Mm... no," Cullen decides; he's smirking faintly. Instead, he moves down the bed just a little -- enough to comfortably pillow himself on Alistair's back, as though Alistair were a particularly strange bedroll. "Making up spots won't be necessary."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair chuckles. "Oh good. That does make things easier."

After a bit of careful maneuvering, he reaches back in search of Cullen's hand.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen decides to help the process, even as he informs Alistair, "You're lumpy."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Too many pastries?"

He twines his fingers with Cullen's.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Too much cheese."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Pfft. No such thing." Loftily. "...Nothing that can't be fixed with a few good laps around town, anyway."

[howtoactfereldan]

"And a purgative," Cullen mutters in his ear.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair swats Cullen's shoulder, dissolving into laughter.

"You're horrid," he says, in a way that sounds a lot more like I love you.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Merely concerned for your health, Theirin," Cullen says, and squeezes him like he's some kind of giant stuffed animal.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair emits an obliging squeak.

Deadpan -- and perhaps a little strangled, just for effect -- "I'm so relieved."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen laughs, low and soft, and kisses Alistair's shoulder.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's smile softens. He nestles closer to Cullen with another faint, contented hum.

Orlais -- with the exception of its cheese -- will always be the worst. But this part of being on vacation? Always the best.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen settles his head along the curve of Alistair's shoulder.











"I'm not moving until you tell me to, you know."

[bringspeopletogether]

A quiet laugh. "You might be here for a while, then."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Not too heavy?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"Not at all."

Warden strength has its pluses!

"Means I know you're here."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen can't help it: he snorts.

"Next time I'll knock."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Where?" Grinning " -- And don't say my head, for Andraste's sake."

[howtoactfereldan]

Silence.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair heaves a big enough sigh to lift Cullen an inch or two.

"Horrid," he declares again.