[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

[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?"

[bringspeopletogether]

He shakes his head, a little. "Nothing."

Alistair tries to force himself to relax. It...sort of works. A bit.

"Just -- rattled, still, I suppose. More prone to spouting nonsense than usual."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen laughs, softly.

"My love," no louder, "you take great pleasure in spouting nonsense. Which means it's a dead giveaway when you pretend otherwise that you're bothered by something." He stifles a yawn in Alistair's shoulder. "Can't fool me."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair breaks into laughter, just as quiet.

"This is what I get for marrying you," he says, with deep, abiding fondness. He untangles himself from Cullen just enough to roll over; he slips a hand to the back of Cullen's neck to draw him into a kiss.

[howtoactfereldan]

Which Cullen returns, with interest.




"Shall I accept the distraction?" Against the corner of Alistair's mouth. "Or do you want to tell me?"

[bringspeopletogether]

His smile dims, going crooked. Alistair rests his forehead against Cullen's.




"I'm -- frightened." Barely above a whisper, now. "I think I can handle it. Ivette will be there to help. I know there's no point to being afraid. And I don't want you to have to sit through it for my sake, anyway."

Loosely, he curls his fingers in the hair at the nape of Cullen's neck.

"But I might need you before sunset tomorrow, once it's done."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen shifts just enough to be able to smooth his palm over Alistair's back, slow and calm.

"Then I'm there."

Simply.

"That's all there is to it."

(It's not like any of it will do any good, anyhow.)

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods, just once, before burying his face in the crook of Cullen's neck.




"It felt like too much to ask," he mumbles eventually, no louder. "I know you -- need to be working. I'm sorry."

[howtoactfereldan]

"It's not too much." It feels like he's been stabbed. Just a little. "If you think I can help -- of course I want to."

Carefully his fingers search out a too-tight muscle in Alistair's shoulder, and begin to work.

"I can keep it together long enough to be of use. I promise."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair exhales, slowly. "All right."

He shifts a little to give Cullen better access to the spot.

Barely audible now: "I don't ever want to make this harder on you than it already is."