[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

The letter he finally sends is maybe a little more impolitic than it ought to be, but if he doesn't send something now, he'll still be writing when his Calling arrives.



Fiona,

Ivette Cousland is looking for you. The name might ring a bell. Hero of Ferelden? Slayed the Archdemon some years ago?

Anyway. She's not having any luck, so I thought I'd try my hand at getting in touch.

Cousland's been searching for a cure for the Calling these past five years or so; she even retired as Warden-Commander of Vigil's Keep so she could pursue her research better. She knows your leaving the Wardens wasn't like mine. You didn't just walk away from Weisshaupt: you managed to un-Join somehow, with no ill effects. You're our last, best lead on the matter, so you can understand why she's rather eager to speak to you. It's very likely she doesn't have much time left, what with it being almost a decade and a half since her Joining and living through a Blight.

Frankly, I don't expect I have much time left, either.

Cullen and I are in South Reach these days. I'll always know where to find Cousland, if you'd rather speak with her directly. For all our sakes, I hope you'll be in touch.

--Alistair





Two weeks later, a raven knocks its beak against their window frame.

This is a matter best discussed in person, says the note attached to its leg. I can be to South Reach by the end of the month.

It's signed only with the letter F. Alistair spends the next few hours talking up a nervous storm, hands digging in his hair, half anxious, half furious. (This is exactly what he didn't want: for her to read this as an overture. For her to think she could have any claim to Alistair's time, Alistair's space, outside of giving him and Cousland the information they needed.)

Then he writes a letter to Cousland and sends the raven on its way.

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

"Yes." Cullen strokes a thumb over Alistair's cheek. It's much easier to worry about Alistair than it is to contemplate the prospect of the coming failure, and the justified despair. "And we've enough advance notice that we don't need to worry about the particular arrangements today."

As if Cullen isn't already mentally making those plans.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Yes," he agrees. Turning his head, he kisses Cullen's palm; sighs again, quieter. "I'll do my best not to rip all my hair out before then."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen gives him a crooked smile, and runs the pad of his thumb over Alistair's lower lip.

"Good. You'd look rather foolish."

[bringspeopletogether]

Any jokes about growing old before his time have fallen from Alistair's vocabulary in recent months. Too easy for it to devolve into less funny topics.

His eyes slip closed. "You think so?" he asks. "Bald patches everywhere, just a little tuft up front?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"You are never combing up the front of your hair ever again." He kisses the corner of Alistair's mouth. "Leaving tufts up front? That counts." And again, light, sweet.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Mm."

A thread of laughter winds through the noise. Alistair links his hands behind Cullen's back, drawing him closer, and returns the kiss.

"And tufts in the back would just be ridiculous," he murmurs once it breaks.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Patently ridiculous," Cullen agrees, touching his forehead to Alistair's. "And I couldn't do this any more, either."

He runs his fingers through Alistair's hair.

"Which would be a shame."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Very much so."

He sneaks another brief kiss.

"I'd miss it terribly. Better all around I keep my hair where it is."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Mm." And with that, Cullen eases his arms around Alistair, resting his chin on Alistair's shoulder.

Just a plain hug. Against -- whatever it is he's worried about, exactly. Pointing out how many people they know who can make Fiona's life miserable... might not be the most effective strategy. Cullen would rather try this one first.

[bringspeopletogether]

It's a pretty good strategy, all told. Alistair sags a bit in Cullen's arms, as if that simple hug were squeezing all the tension out; he winds his own arms more securely around him.

"Thank you," he mumbles after a moment. "Needed that."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen nods. "Same." Light. Gentle.

[bringspeopletogether]

A quiet chuckle; a soft squeeze, as if cementing his thanks.

"How's your project coming along?" he asks as he pulls back just enough to look at Cullen.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Well enough." A crooked smile as he glances at the kitchen. "The pump is an improvement. I'll need to tweak it to make it easier to operate, but the bones are there."

Cullen looks back at Alistair. "At least we won't need to haul water at all hours?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"As long as I get to watch you perform some other feat of strength, I'm happy."

Another quick kiss.

Dreamily: "Drawing a bath in under ten minutes is going to be wonderful."

[howtoactfereldan]

"At least I'm good for something." Wry, but still light. "You might consider drawing me one some time."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair wrinkles his nose, smiling. "I thought that was implied, love. A warm bath waiting after you have a hard day's work."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I'll believe it when I see it." And that's a little airy, as he turns toward the kitchen. "For now, I'd settle for a hot meal."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair snorts a laugh, trailing after him.

"There's stew in the works," he says. "I, er...tried for a loaf of bread. It didn't turn out as badly as the last one?"

True to his word, there's a misshapen, somewhat slouchy lump of bread on the counter. It's neither as misshapen or as rocklike as his previous attempts -- even Gru turned up his nose at those -- but someone still hasn't quite gotten the feel of when to stop kneading the dough.

Sheepish: "I can run up to the baker's if you'd rather."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen picks it up, thumps the bottom. Sounds hollow enough.

"Seems edible." He gives Alistair another crooked smile. "Stay."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's smile warms, pleased.

"You're so kind to me," he says, and plants a kiss on Cullen's temple. "And to my baking attempts."

[howtoactfereldan]

What Cullen does not say is that many things will soften up adequately when put in stew for long enough.

"Let's eat? And then we can test the pump."

[bringspeopletogether]

"All right."

Alistair grabs a pair of bowls and wanders to the pot hanging over the fire. Stew's much less finicky than baked goods: it's decent, hearty fare, and quickly softens the hunks of bread they tear off the loaf.

(Alistair made sure to put jam on the table, too, just in case Cullen wants to brave an unsoaked piece of bread.)

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen will eat the jam by itself.

Which is precisely what he does. He allows himself one spoonful, and just... makes sure it's massive.

And makes eye contact with Alistair when he eats it.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair struggles not to laugh.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks, as mildly as he can.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen never drops his gaze as he nods, twice, slowly.