[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

No Orlesian nobles pounded down their door to demand their hound back, so when Alistair and Cullen left Halamshiral, the newly-dubbed Gruyere happily trotted alongside their horses.

A few weeks after -- which included some quiet conversation, a few orders placed with a few merchants, and almost an entire extra pack of gifts slung over one of their mounts -- Gru just as happily trotted along as they turned for South Reach.

Years of correspondence led Alistair to build an elaborate image of Cullen's family in his mind; Mia, perhaps, more fully realized than the others, but everyone with a name and a voice to match their letters. They're...not wholly inaccurate? But Mia's definitely shorter than he expected, and one or two of the children a little louder.

(Mia's voice, however, adopts exactly the pitch he imagined it would when Alistair brings up the whole I'm-your-brother-in-law-now thing.)

It's a nice place. Just the right kind of rambunctious, with all the kids running around; just the right kind of homey.

If only Cullen weren't -- well, reacting more or less precisely how Alistair worried he'd react to the reunion.

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

"Headache." Tightly. "It'll pass."

[bringspeopletogether]

And take off half of Cullen's head in the process, from the look of it.

One side of Alistair's mouth twists. He nods, settling back down; after a moment, he drapes a careful arm over Cullen.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen winces.

And winces again, at the sound of claws on the door. "Gru wants you," he mumbles.

[bringspeopletogether]

Gru can wait, he almost says -- but that last wince seemed pretty obviously linked to the noises Gru's making.

He kisses Cullen's shoulder, with the same care, and whispers, "I'll be right back."

Gru looks the picture of innocence when Alistair opens the door; in hushed tones, as he kneels down to give the mabari a thorough petting, Alistair makes it clear just how happy he is to see Gru this morning, yes, Gru is such a good boy, but Cullen isn't feeling well so perhaps keep it down just a smidge?

(With the door open, the breakfast smells from the kitchen waft in all the stronger.)

[howtoactfereldan]

At least he isn't nauseated. That's something.

The hushed sounds at the other end of the room are... tolerable. Cullen relaxes, just a little.

[bringspeopletogether]

Gru and Alistair have reached an accord: if Gru is very, very quiet, he can come in. (But no jumping on the bed to look after Cullen. The no-bed rule still applies even when one of the humans is sick.)

So there's the quiet tick, tick, tick of Gru's claws on the floor, and the click of Alistair shutting the door. Gru takes a very quiet seat next to Cullen's side of the bed, just in case he can be of assistance outside the bed; meanwhile, Alistair settles back into his earlier spot at Cullen's side.

[howtoactfereldan]

"It's not fair," he mumbles. "Now there's two hovering."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair has to suppress a smile, in spite of himself.

"We'll both be very quiet," he whispers. "You won't even know we're here. I promise."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Please just go eat breakfast." Faintly, without rancor. "Please."

[bringspeopletogether]

What little humor remaining in his expression winks out.

"All right." Barely audible. He slides away from Cullen; Gru cocks his head inquisitively, but, at a gesture from Alistair, falls in step behind him as they leave.

Another quiet click punctuates their exit.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen breathes out, shaky, and relaxes.

The weight, the presence, the sound of breathing: it all seemed to compress the room. When Cullen feels horrible, all he wants is to hide like a sick animal.

Alistair always wants to fix things, he thinks. Especially the ones he can't.

[bringspeopletogether]

He's shaken off the awkward, cringing, guilty feeling by the time he reaches the kitchen. Not like Cullen needing time to himself is a rare thing, especially when he's under stress. It's -- just the worry cropping up again. It makes Alistair fall back on old habits of hovering and fussing when it won't help.

And Gru completely forgets everything, including his manners, when he gets an up-close whiff of the bacon Mia's frying.

Half the children are already awake, swarming and pestering; to give Mia a little more space to work (and to get Gru away from the bacon), Alistair deftly distracts them by sending Gru over to play. For a war dog, the mabari has an instinctively gentle temperament around little ones. Perhaps his former owner had a child or two around the house.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Kettle's on," Mia says without looking around. "Serve yourself. That great lummox still abed, is he?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"Oooh. Thank you," says Alistair, making a beeline for the kettle. "Er -- yes, for a little longer I'd suspect."

Under no circumstances is he telling Mia that Cullen's not feeling well.

"Can I help with anything?"

(Look, that thwarted attempt at fussing over Cullen has to go somewhere.)

[howtoactfereldan]

She points at a basket full of potatoes. "Fifteen big ones, if you please, peeled and chopped rough."

A pair of hands that volunteers, instead of being conscripted? Yes please and thank you.

"Is he showing any sign of believing we're not going to eat him?" That's wry -- in a way Alistair might find familiar.

[bringspeopletogether]

He does. Alistair huffs a small, rueful laugh as he grabs a potato and a knife.

"Not yet, I'm afraid." Equally wry. "Maybe once he's up I'll point out everyone's lack of sharp, pointy teeth and reassure him it's just mutton in the stew pot."

[howtoactfereldan]

Mia glances over her shoulder.

Perfectly straight-faced:

"Are you sure about that?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair affects a look of shock.

"Surely it's not..." Dramatic pause. "Chicken?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"Don't be ridiculous," Mia says, and turns her attention back to the bacon. "If you stew chicken all day it's tough and awful. Obviously."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Obviously," agrees Alistair, cheerful. "That's why I was so horrified by the thought."

As he peels the potatoes, he arranges them in a loose pyramid, resisting the urge to stick a little potato-peel flag on top as the structure grows higher.

[howtoactfereldan]

Very casually, Mia asks:

"Is he like this often?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's knife pauses against the latest potato.

Carefully, after a moment that's just a little too long: "It comes and goes." Swiftly, he resumes peeling the potato, as if to cover for his lapse. "And there's been a lot of change lately, what with the Inquisition disbanding."

[howtoactfereldan]

Mia is in the process of getting cooked bacon off the pan, and replacing it with the second round. (Lot of people to feed.)

As it begins to sizzle, she reaches for the kettle herself. "It's surprising he didn't grow out of it."

A glance up at Alistair.

"He's had the habit since we were children, you know. There was this pond near the farm he'd vanish off to all the time."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair relaxes, somewhat. He discards the last potato peel and starts chopping.

"He mentioned that." Fond. "Running off to the lake whenever it got too noisy." His turn to glance up. "He took me there once -- just a brief visit. Bit overgrown, but it's a beautiful place."

[howtoactfereldan]

Mia's cup clatters on the table.

It's her turn to speak carefully. "It looks normal?"