Alistair (
bringspeopletogether) wrote2018-03-16 10:35 pm
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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.
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.
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He gently tugs at Alistair's hair.
"I'm very particular about this."
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He snuggles closer.
"I suppose I can oblige your particularities."
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For just a moment, he's silent. Then, more serious: "Would you consider obliging another?"
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He tilts his head enough to look up at Cullen.
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"Don't -- if you're going to insist on compliments. Not bravery. Not integrity." He makes himself take a breath. "You know I don't believe it. And when you bring it up -- I hear that your -- regard for me is built on lies and deception."
Not entirely even.
"And then... I need a moment."
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He wants to argue the point: that it is true, that Cullen is one of the best men he's ever known, that he's not the only one who thinks it (just look at how the Inquisition held him in such high regard). But that's the exact opposite of what Cullen's asking of him, and to do it would be a terrible cruelty.
(If there were just some way to ease his words around Cullen's self-loathing without bungling everything up --
But if Alistair hasn't managed it in three years, he won't manage it now.)
"All right," he whispers.
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Trying to rally; doing a terrible job.
"You won't need to -- you shouldn't feel like being less. Because then I won't need to step away."
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He nods, a little, hoping it isn't as helpless as he feels. He hears the attempt to rally; does his best to mirror it. "Complimenting your arse is still all right though, yes?"
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He shapes a crooked smile.
"I'd be very sad if its magnificence had to go unheralded for the rest of time."
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He might mumble this into Alistair's hair.
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(Hopefully not for the rest of their marriage. Hopefully. Though some of that may depend on what Fiona says, if Alistair can ever finish the damn letter: whether their marriage will last only another two or three years, or for at least another twenty or thirty.)
"Only the best for you, my love," he says, before pressing a kiss to Cullen's exposed collarbone.
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He sighs a little, arching his neck. "'S nice to be appreciated."
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Grinning against Cullen's neck.
"But I'm thinking it."
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"I should certainly hope so."
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Another kiss a little further up Cullen's neck.
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"So you did." Only a little strangled. He hooks an ankle around Cullen's leg. "And how much would you like to be appreciated tonight?"
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"Quit asking me what I want, Theirin."
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He shifts, rolling them both to the side until he's on top of Cullen.
"My deepest apologies, ser."
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Cullen pokes Alistair's belly.
"That's just another way you're asking me what I want."
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"You've seen right through my nefarious scheme." Scraping his nails lightly down Cullen's sides, he leans in to kiss him; when it breaks, he goes on in a low murmur. "How about this: I want you to have your way with me. I'm yours."
(This time, having learned his lesson, he does not say always.)
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