[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're trying to leave me to the ants," Cullen accuses.

[bringspeopletogether]

"I would never," says Alistair, mock-affronted. "In fact, ill protect you valiantly from any ants who try to steal you away."

[howtoactfereldan]

"How much did they pay you." Very, very stern. "I'll double it. Unless it's cheese."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Shame, then, because they offered whatever they could carry out of the cheese shop down the way." Alistair shakes his head, sadly. "And you know ants can carry quite a lot. But -- "

He gently prods Cullen's chest.

"I said, 'no, no, not even for all the cheese in Orlais would I hand over my love.' Might have struck a dramatic pose while I was at it. Sunlight at just the right angle and everything."

[howtoactfereldan]

"...you'll be drawing this scene later, I hope, as I'm very sorry to have missed it." Stifling laughter.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Of course." He beams. "I'll even frame it if you'd like."

He drops a light kiss on the tip of Cullen's nose.

[howtoactfereldan]

"We do need some additional portraits in our room."

Cullen wrinkles his nose. "Are you fixated?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"No, just making sure I didn't miss a spot."

He grins.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Oh, yes." Dry. "Of course. Have to make sure we're properly fortified and prepared."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Clean slate and all." Solemn. "Emphasis on the clean."

He whispers into Cullen's ear, "Makes the ensuing mess more fun."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Before you get too excited about that," Cullen whispers back, "remember it's your turn to clean up."

[bringspeopletogether]

"A small price to pay." His teeth graze Cullen's earlobe. "One I'll pay gladly."

[howtoactfereldan]

He'd fully expected Alistair to complain, or backpedal a little at the very least.

Cullen's shiver is a little more pronounced; his fingers dig reflexively into Alistair's flesh.

"Gladly," he repeats, half a question.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Mm-hm."

He presses closer.

"Have to come up with something worse than washing a few sheets to scare me away, Commander."

[howtoactfereldan]

"A challenge." Starting to smile, a little. "Let's see. Orlais is all around us."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Which is easy enough to ignore with you here."

He trails his fingertips down Cullen's side.

[howtoactfereldan]

Another shiver. "I changed my mind. I don't like this challenge. Let's go to bed."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair cracks up, burying his face against Cullen's neck for a brief moment.

"Agreed," he says at last, and lifts his head so he can kiss Cullen soundly. His hands slide down to grasp Cullen's; he turns, pulling him toward the kitchen door. "Come on, then."

[howtoactfereldan]

Alistair doesn't have to pull very hard, to be sure. But Cullen does hang back, some.

More subdued: "Should I -- is there anything I need to, to explain? Before...?"

Because if so, he's going to need to dig up a bottle of brandy and not share any.

[bringspeopletogether]

Ah.

"If you..." No. If you want to isn't the question to ask. He weaves his fingers more firmly through Cullen's.

Softer: "Only what I need to know to keep you safe. Only that much."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's stomach twists.

"And if I don't know?" His feet are very interesting.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Then we can wait. And do -- other things tonight, if you'd rather."

He keeps hold of Cullen's hands, but doesn't coax him to look up.

"But if you want to get it over with, I'm glad to listen."

[howtoactfereldan]

There's no one safer in the world, Cullen reminds himself.

"I -- "

He swallows.

"It seems... wise to get it over with. Given there's an extra day before I've got to be... myself." Cullen's mouth twists a little. "But then again, this is our time, and I don't want to ruin it, and if I -- if I can't put it behind me quickly, I don't want it... it's not fair to you. And you get too much of that already. Far too much."

[bringspeopletogether]

If he wanted to be selfish, it would be so easy. He could voice agreement; demand to take up every inch of the little space they have here, to make up for all the times he's had to shrink himself smaller to make room for the Inquisition. If he were colder, maybe. Crueler. If he weren't, in his own ways, inclined toward service as well.

He can't do that to Cullen.

"We'll have other days together," says Alistair, softly. "And they'll be better, for me knowing what you want. What you need from me.
All right?"

[howtoactfereldan]

The only thing that convinces Cullen, in the end, is knowing that he's feeling inclined toward putting it off not for Alistair's sake, but for his own. Because he's a coward.

Without lifting his head:

"I'll try to keep it brief."