[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]

"You never told me what you wanted for your birthday."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair smiles, small and drowsy.

"A puppy," he mumbles, solemn. "No, two puppies."

[howtoactfereldan]

The war's over, Cullen thinks. Maybe not a farm, but surely...

"That's right," Cullen says. "I forgot to get you anything. You'll have to wait on that one, I'm afraid."

[bringspeopletogether]

"S'okay." He squeezes Cullen. "I can wait."

A beat.

"...When's your birthday?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"Inquisition secret," Cullen returns. "Now budge up, I'm famished, and if you don't move I'll have to take a bite out of you."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair wrinkles his nose.

"I'll learn it someday," he says, as he does the requested budging up. "And when I do: more flowers when you least expect it. Or...completely expect it, in this case."

If food's going to be a thing, Alistair should probably (finally) put on some clothes. He shuffles to the wardrobe to retrieve another robe.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen stands and stretches luxuriously. "What if I told you it was in the dead of winter?"

He picks up a candle and starts wandering down the hall.

[bringspeopletogether]

Serenely, as he trails behind: "I'd fold you little paper flowers and hand them over while exclaiming, 'Winter birthday twins!'"

[howtoactfereldan]

"How come you get dogs while I get flowers?" Cullen complains.

[bringspeopletogether]

"No reason there can't be both." Cheerful. "Dogs could carry the flowers to you."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Those are your dogs." In the kitchen, Cullen reaches up to a hanging basket and pulls down an apple. "Dogs last much longer than flowers."

[bringspeopletogether]

"A fair point."

Laughing, Alistair catches Cullen around the waist.

"Right then, what should I get you? Just dogs? More than dogs?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen crunches into the apple and leans back against Alistair. "How about... something practical?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"Hmmm."

He brings his other arm around Cullen as he thinks.

"A nicely-bound notebook and a new pen. And some kind of math tool or another." Beat. "Or a miniature trebuchet you can keep at your desk and study whenever you'd like."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen leans his head back against Alistair's shoulder and manages not to snort apple up his nose to express his derision.

Instead:

"One, that trebuchet would actually be for you, not me, and two -- "

As neutral as he can manage, Cullen states: "'Some kind of math tool or another.'"

[bringspeopletogether]

With as much dignity as he can muster: "You're the numbers genius, not me."

Alistair grins.

"And you could use the desk trebuchet to test your calibrations. That I'd be willing to assist by setting a target on the other side of the room and cheering wildly whenever you hit it? A happy side benefit."

[howtoactfereldan]

"...perhaps," Cullen says after a moment's consideration, "we should return to our tradition of you not getting me any birthday presents."

[bringspeopletogether]

"I'm getting the sense -- "

He's starting to laugh again.

" -- that you might think my birthday present ideas are less than brilliant."

[howtoactfereldan]

Crunch. Crunch.

Swallow.

"We can't all be winners, Alistair."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Rude, Rutherford."

Those sorrowful words are offset somewhat by the kiss he plants on Cullen's earlobe.

"Very rude."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen shivers pleasantly.

"See? I don't deserve any presents."

[bringspeopletogether]

"You could always make it up to me sometime," he suggests.

Innocently.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Mm." Cullen takes a moment to consider this, and also to finish off his apple.







"No."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair droops.

"Aw."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Don't sulk," Cullen murmurs. "It's not an adequate apology if it's an everyday occurrence, after all."