Alistair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bringspeopletogether) wrote2017-07-01 04:58 pm
bringspeopletogether) wrote2017-07-01 04:58 pm
[sandbox]
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.
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.
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...Alistair might have put a deliberately exaggerated Orlesian spin on that word so it sounds more like nevair.
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"I was half one already," he points out, cheerfully, as he snags his own mug. "There's only one solution: drown that half with some tea before it grows any larger."
He drinks.
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He leans against Alistair for a moment before doing the same.
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See? murmurs a stray thought. You're good for something after all. Remember this.
After a moment, he turns his head enough to kiss Cullen's temple.
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"I'd like to go out for a walk," he says quietly. "If you're sure you don't mind."
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He squeezes Cullen, gently.
With a tiny smirk, "Just give me some time to find a scarf first."
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"The only lumpy snoufleur in Orlais, probably," he manages after he's sure he can swallow properly.
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Never mind that Cullen is quite aware that he has no business spending any time in the Emprise until they've done something about the red lyrium growth.
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While Alistair stands there naked to the waist, at least, and pathetically shivers in the snow.
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"You're the artist here, not me." He settles more comfortably against Alistair, content.
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"Damn."