[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]

There's no need to be greedy or selfish. Just polite. If he just says please and thank you, Alistair will get exactly what he wants.

Or what Cullen wants to give him; fortunate, really, that those two objectives align. But there's a small worry snaking through the back of his mind anyway: what if he stops, what if he says no, what if --

He tries to breathe through it. He'll take care of you. Trust him.

And that's all he has to think for a while. Mind blissfully blank, he turns himself over to whatever Cullen wants to do him.

(If that means they never make it back to their bed -- well, no big loss there.)

[howtoactfereldan]

Several marks later:

Cullen settles down on Alistair, winding his arms around him, resting his head on Alistair's shoulder as though ready to sleep.

He murmurs, "I could keep going, but my face might fall off, and I've only got the one. And I think you'll be properly black and blue. Is that all right?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair gradually comes back to himself. Idly, he links his hands behind Cullen’s back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against the extra weight. He opens his eyes.

“Yes.” A soft, contented sigh. “That’s fine.”

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen lets out a soft hum.

(He feels... protected like this. It's -- nice.)

"Is it enough?"

[bringspeopletogether]

A quiet laugh. “It is,” he reassures him, and kisses the top of his head. “I’ll have plenty of marks to be getting on with tomorrow. Thank you, love.”

[howtoactfereldan]

"We could get some ink," he murmurs, "and see if we can make a picture with them."

[bringspeopletogether]

“A new constellation.” He settles his arms more snugly around Cullen. “I like the sound of that.”

Beat.

“Even if it means we’ll have to move in a bit.”

[howtoactfereldan]

"I'm not sleeping here," Cullen informs Alistair. "Just resting. After my labors."

[bringspeopletogether]

“They were very strenuous,” he agrees in an amused murmur. “I suppose it does require a proper bed and not something that’ll twist us into knots overnight.”

[howtoactfereldan]

"It would be nice," Cullen mumbles. "So stop being so comfortable, so we can bring ourselves to move."

[bringspeopletogether]

“I’m not sure I can.” Sorrowful. “Not unless you want me to roll over and unceremoniously dump you on the floor.”

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen heaves a sigh and makes himself sit up. "Monster."

He stretches -- that this involves some inconvenient writhing on Alistair is a nice bonus -- and slips to his feet, drawing his robe about him with great dignity.

"I think I shall steal all the blankets," he says thoughtfully, and saunters down the hall.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair’s jaw drops. Laughing, he scrambles off the chaise, tying his robe as he hurries after Cullen.

“Don’t you dare.”

[howtoactfereldan]

Airily, over his shoulder:

"What if I do?"

[bringspeopletogether]

“I’ll be very sad,” he says, appropriately mournful. “And possibly die of cold, which would make you very sad.”

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen drops on the bed and wags a finger at him. "That only works at Skyhold. Or in other places above the tree line. You wouldn't freeze."

[bringspeopletogether]

“Famous last words before I wake up encased in a block of ice.”

He flops next to Cullen.

“But should that happen, I trust you’ll put me to good use keeping the meat stores cold.”

[howtoactfereldan]

"Mm."

Cullen makes a great show of considering this.










"Paperweight," he declares finally.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair cracks up, burying his face against Cullen's shoulder.

[howtoactfereldan]

"A very large and noisy paperweight," Cullen continues with satisfaction. "Everyone needs one."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Only noisy if the ice melts." He kisses Cullen's cheek. "Which it might not if you keep it on your desk at Skyhold. I'm afraid I can't do much about the size, though. Your reports will be...very secure."

[howtoactfereldan]

"What more could a man want?"

Beat.

"Besides all the blankets."

[bringspeopletogether]

Promptly: "Fifty mabari. Possibly sixty."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I couldn't possibly give them enough attention," Cullen says mildly, "and then I'd have dozens of very sad mabari on my hands. There's nothing more depressing."

[bringspeopletogether]

"And while I'd help were I not frozen in a block of ice," says Alistair with a sigh, "I am frozen in a block of ice. Clearly, then, if you don't want fifty sad mabari on your hands, you should share the blankets."

:D?