[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]

"Oh, I suppose." A crooked smile. "I'd rather like to touch you at some point, after all."

[bringspeopletogether]

"You could still touch me."

As if to demonstrate, he draws his hands up Cullen's sides, smoothing the wet fabric of his shirt. A few more drops patter to the floor. "It'd just be...damper than usual."

He takes Cullen's hands, gently tugging him in the direction of the linens.

[howtoactfereldan]

"But I'd feel guilty," he says, following.

(Unfortunately, he's got Alistair's hands, or he'd just remove his shirt and have done with it. Warden Cousland seems to have retired, after all.)

[bringspeopletogether]

"I suppose I might shriek rather terribly if you put a cold hand on the back of my neck," allows Alistair, thoughtful.

Once they're near the linens, he tugs on Cullen's shirt -- with a little effort -- to help peel it off, the better to replace it with something drier. (After the requisite bit of ogling, anyway.)

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen rolls his eyes just a little, tossing the shirt over his shoulder. "I don't suppose I could convince you to appreciate this once I'm ready for bed?"

He tries softening it with a weak smile. It's just -- he's tired.

[bringspeopletogether]

"You could." He meets it with a lopsided smile of his own, faintly apologetic. "I'll behave myself."

He needs to tell him. It's just -- easier to pretend for a moment that everything's normal. (Always easier to pretend, he thinks, tiredly.)

"Should you get the urge to saunter out to the stables without a shirt, though, I'd advise against it." He rubs the back of his neck. "Fiona's here."

[howtoactfereldan]

She's seen worse, Cullen almost says, before the content of what Alistair says hits him.

"...right." He exhales, slowly. "Are you all right?"

[bringspeopletogether]

He shrugs, his attention sliding to the floor.

"For now," he says. "Ivette smoothed things over. Rather aggressively -- not that I'm complaining," he's quick to add. "But she took the lead enough that I didn't have to, well, talk. Or do anything except scratch Gru's ears. So..."

Alistair looks back up, with another humorless quirk of a smile.

"That's one night done, I suppose."

[howtoactfereldan]

He slips his hand back into Alistair's. Squeezes.

"Well done." Soft. "Now -- it's just us."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Yes."

He returns the squeeze. Draws one of Cullen's hands up, pressing it to his cheek.

Another moment's quiet, and then he'll tell him the rest. And maybe decide whether to ask, or let him walk away to the peace of the farm like he has for weeks.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen curves his hand against Alistair's cheek.

"Let's speak of it in bed?"

[bringspeopletogether]

A small huff of breath. "I like that plan."

He turns his head enough to kiss Cullen's palm; with reluctance, he draws away to find his sleeping trousers.

[howtoactfereldan]

And Cullen pulls a length of linen off the shelf to dry himself with, and hangs his shirt over the back of a chair, and finishes his own preparations. They don't take long; he omits the prayers.

He settles in bed with a grunt -- sore muscles -- and nevertheless turns on his side, pulling Alistair close, fitting him against his body. Mumbled against his neck: "Indulge me for just a moment."

[bringspeopletogether]

A long, long sigh; he molds himself to Cullen, letting his eyes drift shut. "Always," he murmurs.

The tension he's carried all evening begins to ebb.

[howtoactfereldan]

A kiss, light, on Alistair's neck. Then he buries his face in Alistair's hair, hold tightening like a child with a stuffed animal.

"Not too long." Still mumbled. "Or I'll fall asleep against my better inclinations."

[bringspeopletogether]

A soft rumble of a laugh, felt more than heard. He covers Cullen's hands with his own.

"But I'm enjoying this indulging too."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Then you have to wake me up," he says peaceably.

[bringspeopletogether]

"I will." The smile is audible in his voice. "I'll even do it gently. No horns blaring by your ear or anything of the sort."

Idly he tangles one foot with Cullen's.

[howtoactfereldan]

He huffs a sigh in Alistair's ear. "You're always so kind to me."

[bringspeopletogether]

Serenely: "I do my best."

If he brings it up now, it'll mean the indulging stops. If he waits too long, Cullen will fall asleep, and then it'll be far too late to bring it up.

(Some of the tension's creeping back.)




"Fiona's going to tell us everything tomorrow." Quiet. It's just relaying facts, he thinks; there doesn't have to be any expectations attached to it. "She turned up too late to start the discussions tonight."

[howtoactfereldan]

Alistair tenses; Cullen notices. He lifts his head just long enough to brush a kiss over Alistair's bare shoulder. "Mm."

[bringspeopletogether]

"I don't know if that's -- something you want to hear in person."

He weaves his fingers more tightly with Cullen's.

"It's fine if you don't. I'll tell you when you're home."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I can't imagine I could contribute anything to the conversation," he murmurs. "Weather's coming on rain, though. If it's heavy enough Bran won't want to do the posts."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods.

He won't face this alone, he tells himself. Ivette will be there. Anyway, if Cullen stayed then Alistair would probably accidentally break his knuckles from gripping his hand too hard, and that'd just be unpleasant for everyone. Especially Cullen.

"Up to you," he says, still quiet. "If it's raining I could come over right after. Or -- I don't know."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen furrows his brow, just a little, and takes a moment before carefully saying, "What don't you know?"