[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 mumbles, "You didn't the first time."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Then I'll do my best not to wake you, period, no 'again' to be found."

He kisses the top of Cullen's head.

"Love you."

[howtoactfereldan]

After a moment, Cullen touches the pad of a finger to Alistair's lips.

"Don't watch," he mumbles again. "Stay."

[bringspeopletogether]

Well. Alistair has nobody to blame but himself -- and his predictability -- for that request.

He exhales; one side of his mouth quirks up, not quite a smile. He nods as he tightens his hold on Cullen a little.

"I'll stay," he echoes in a whisper.

[howtoactfereldan]

The whole thing bothers him more than he'd care to admit. But Alistair is -- here. Alistair has him. Alistair will take care of himself.

Cullen tucks his head under Alistair's chin with a small sigh. That's good enough.

[bringspeopletogether]

After a time, Alistair draws his hand up and down Cullen's back, slow. It's meditative. Reassuring. The rhythm -- and the extra reminder of Cullen's presence -- keeps him from eyeing the shadows too much.

After an even longer time, his hand stills.

Sleep may not arrive easy, but it always arrives eventually.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen doesn't stir until well after the sun is up. For once sleeping like this isn't claustrophobic; for once, he feels safe.

He doesn't move much -- just blinks a few times, undecided whether to see if he can sleep again.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's in a similar state.

It was a restless night, but true to his word, he did his best to mitigate it. Whenever he woke, he kept quiet; whenever he got the urge to lift his head and let his eyes linger on the shadows, he turned his attention to Cullen instead. It made it a little easier to slide back into sleep once the moment passed.

He's at the tail end of one of those moments now, blinking sleepily as he waits to drift off again.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen sighs softly and presses a kiss to Alistair's jaw.

Safe, he thinks, a little bleary, and settles down again. Nowhere to be until noon.

[bringspeopletogether]

The kiss pulls him back from the edge of sleep; "Mm," he says eloquently, and then, very soft: "Good morning."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Mm-hmm," Cullen agrees, and doesn't move.

[bringspeopletogether]

Not entirely awake, then.

Alistair chuckles, brief and warm, before curling his arm a little more securely around Cullen.

[howtoactfereldan]

What was that? Oh.

"Do that again," Cullen demands, sleepy. "'S nice."

[bringspeopletogether]

"...Do what again?" asks Alistair.

By happy coincidence, he's laughing a little as he says that.

[howtoactfereldan]

"That." Content. He runs his fingers over Alistair's ribs.

[bringspeopletogether]

That elicits another soft hum from Alistair.

"So long as you keep doing that," he murmurs, pitching his voice a little lower to rumble his chest appropriately.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Beginning to think," Cullen mumbles, "we should stay like this all day."

The sun is up, but the sun isn't out; if Cullen tilts his head a little, he can see the overcast sky. A gray day makes him feel tired, and if it's raining... well. A good day to stay in with tea.

[bringspeopletogether]

"No objections from me."

Gently, he runs his palm along Cullen's spine.

"...Might have to get up briefly for food. But only very briefly."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen exhales, long, and leans his forehead against Alistair's chest. "No." A plaintive murmur. "No."

A sharp knock on their door is shortly followed by a Starkhaven brogue. "Commander, it's urgent."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's back stiffens.

Muttered in Cullen's ear: "We're not home. I stubbed my toe and you had to take me to the infirmary. The kitchen door turned into an eluvian and we fell through it and ended up back at Skyhold."

Ugh, reality, why. And what could possibly be so urgent this early in the morning? There wasn't supposed to be any urgency on this trip, damn it.

[howtoactfereldan]

"If it wasn't real they'd have waited until noon."

But he does allow himself just one moment to cling to Alistair, as tightly as he can.

"I'm sorry."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair hugs him back, no less tightly, and buries his face in Cullen's hair. He breathes in as if the air could push his disappointment down, deeper, to where it didn't feel so much like a jab to the ribs.

"Don't apologize," he murmurs. "Go do your commander things. I'll be here."

[howtoactfereldan]

One more more instant before he lets go and rises, shoulders drooping. Cullen reaches for his shirt and pads down the hall.

He'll pull it over his head on the way.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair pushes himself to sitting, leaning heavily against the headboard. He drags a hand over his hair, then down his face as he lets out a long sigh.

It's always going to be like this, isn't it. he thinks. It feels like all the exhaustion of that poor night's sleep has landed on him in a single thud. He aches everywhere. There's no 'getting better after the war.' It's just this.

No telling when Cullen will be back. Maybe he should make some breakfast. Tea, at least.

Or he could just stay in bed a little while longer; that works, too.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen is, at the least, back long enough to pull on real trousers, his boots, and his armor.

He also looks like a vengeful god of severe weather while he does it. And he doesn't say anything at all.