[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]

Alistair smiles.

"That dog...Maker bless him, but I think there was a reason he ended up with a noble family and not a proper regiment." Fond. "Very well-meaning, would bite the hand off a hurlock without hesitating, but not always the sharpest sword in the armory. We'd made camp one night -- all the way out in the Brecilian Forest, mind -- and while I was playing fetch with the beast, Lel started singing some song or another. Don't remember what it was about, but I know the word ache was in there once or twice."

He moves to a spot near Cullen's left shoulder blade.

"Would've forgotten that bit too if it weren't for Ruff. -- His name was Ruffian, but it was funnier to call him over by pretending to bark at him. Anyway, I throw the stick, off he goes, and...he doesn't come back right away. All right, I think, he's wandered off before, probably spotted a rat and thought it'd be more fun to chase that than a stick. By fifteen minutes I'm getting a bit worried, but figure I'll give it a smidge longer before I try to find him.

"Twenty minutes after I throw the stick, he barrels out of the bushes, makes a beeline for Leliana, and drops something at her feet like he's handing over a golden goblet from the Queen's personal stores. He was so pleased. And to this day I couldn't tell you where or how he found it, but...it was cake. A great big drooled-on slice of it. All for Lel."

[howtoactfereldan]

Silence.






"If she didn't eat it," Cullen mumbles, "she must have hurt his feelings very badly."

[bringspeopletogether]

"It's true." Solemn. "She praised him, distracted him with a belly rub, and threw the cake in the fire, but he figured it out. For a few magical days, I was the one he liked best. Well, second best," he amends. "After Cousland."

[howtoactfereldan]

"And how did you celebrate your promotion?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"By cooing, 'Whoosa good boy?!' at least six times an hour," he says. "And getting a lapful of dog half the time I sat down."

A blissful sigh.

"It was the best three days of the whole Blight."

[howtoactfereldan]

"...low bar to clear."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Very," he agrees without hesitating, and moves a little lower down Cullen's back. "Still, though. You take the moments as you can."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen lets out a long, shaky sigh, and nods a little. Then he turns his eyes right into his forearm. Easier not to see, somehow.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's hand moves up to Cullen's hair again. He cards his fingers through, brief and affectionate, before resuming his work on Cullen's back.

He's kneading more slowly now.

[howtoactfereldan]

"I know this isn't what you had in mind." One more try.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair smooths his hands over Cullen's shoulders and rests them there.

Soft: "Do you want me to stop?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Immediately he stiffens.

"I -- "

No. No he doesn't.

"I want you to do what you want."

[bringspeopletogether]

"You're allowed to want things for yourself as well."

He doesn't move his hands away.

"Remember?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's breath hitches.






Barely audible:

"Don't stop, then. And keep them away from me."

[bringspeopletogether]

"All right," he whispers. "I will."

He's -- relieved. It's progress. Something like it. (He's also working very hard to keep that relief out of his voice.)

Slowly, Alistair resumes, leaning his palms into the newly-tense areas

[howtoactfereldan]

Gradually Cullen relaxes again.

"This is real," he mumbles. "I know that much."

[bringspeopletogether]

He feels it when the tension starts to ease off; breathes another soundless sigh of relief.

"Yes." A faint smile. "Also outside this room, Orlais, sadly, does continue to exist. But let's focus on the good parts: you, me, and this."

He traces a circle on Cullen's back with his palm.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen finds himself smiling. Just a little.

"A circle?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"There could also be some lines." Cheerful. "Like so."

The pattern on Cullen's back changes: two parallel lines up Cullen's back, ending at his shoulders.

"Might throw a diamond in there if we want to get really crazy."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I trust you." It comes out on another sigh -- a much easier one; he's finally letting himself relax. "Whatever you pick."

[bringspeopletogether]

"And if it's accompanied by me listing all the strange things Ruff dragged back to camp for us?"

Both hands at the base of Cullen's neck now; smoothed out and down to the bottom of his ribs; together again near the base of his spine.

[howtoactfereldan]

He breathes, in and out. Again.

"The price of safety is often steep."

[bringspeopletogether]

"On occasion," he murmurs, and bends to kiss the back of Cullen's neck. "Not right now, though."

And with that -- wonder of wonders -- Alistair lets the room fall into quiet. (He's having plenty of fun sketching out new, inventive shapes on Cullen's back, anyway.)

[howtoactfereldan]

Whether it's the quiet, Alistair's touch, or some combination, it's not long before Cullen falls asleep.

Peacefully.

[bringspeopletogether]

For several moments after Cullen dozes off, Alistair keeps running his hands along his back: slower, again, tapering off to a light touch at the small of his back. As he lays down beside Cullen, he slips his arm around his waist.

"Love you," he whispers.

And soon enough, he's joined him in sleep.