[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]

Cullen goes back to trailing his fingers through Alistair’s hair.

“It’s only been different for you the last few years.” No louder. “Hard to overcome a lifetime of habit.”

[bringspeopletogether]

"And you won't lose patience with me, if I fall back into that habit?"

[howtoactfereldan]

“No.” Immediate. Calm. Decisive. “You’re just checking the forecast. That’s all.”

[bringspeopletogether]

He sags in Cullen's arms, one hand curling absently in the fabric of his shirt.

"All right," he murmurs. "Good."

[howtoactfereldan]

“Just tell me you want to know the weather.”

He covers Alistair’s hand again.

“That’s not so hard, is it?”

[bringspeopletogether]

Finally -- at last -- a smile quirks Alistair's mouth.

"Downright simple, I'd say." He weaves their fingers together once more. "And for the actual weather I'll just look out the window myself."

[howtoactfereldan]

“Probably more reliable than any weather forecast I’d make. Or just... guess at.”

[bringspeopletogether]

"Doesn't have to be reliable. Funny works, too. 'Oh, look, it's raining fish, ought to drag the nets outside so we'll have a nice dinner.'"

[howtoactfereldan]

“...I will leave the net-dragging to you.” Cullen says this on a laugh. “And cleaning the fish.”

[bringspeopletogether]

"Should it ever rain fish, my love," says Alistair, magnanimously, "you have my solemn vow I'll be the one to handle all the catching and cleaning."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen pats Alistair on the head, and privately vows to rope Branson in on a conspiracy to drop fish in front of the windows.

“I can ask for nothing more.”

[bringspeopletogether]

"It's the least I can do if a handsome man has promised to stay with me."

He lifts their clasped hands so he can kiss Cullen's fingertips.

[howtoactfereldan]

“The very least,” Cullen agrees, dry. “But I shan’t complain.”

[bringspeopletogether]

"Is there more I can -- ?"

As soon as he says it, Alistair winces. "No. Sorry. I know you were joking. My sense of humor may have gone into hiding this morning."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen lets out a long breath — more rueful than anything else. He tightens his hold on Alistair for just a moment.

“It’ll turn up.” With an audible smile.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Hopefully it's just under the bed somewhere," he mumbles. "Not outside shivering in the rain. Poor cold sense of humor."

[howtoactfereldan]

“If Gru doesn’t track it down, we can walk Ivette down to the farm and watch her get swarmed by children. That might help.”

[bringspeopletogether]

Slowly, Alistair brightens. (Not too much, yet, but -- at least it's something.)

"Even if he does find it," he says, "we should do that anyway. Can you imagine?"

Because Alistair can, and it's damned delightful.

[howtoactfereldan]

“It’s been a while since we had some good chaos, hasn’t it,” Cullen muses.

[bringspeopletogether]

"The fun kind, anyway." He resettles more comfortably against Cullen. "Not the kind involving relatives you didn't even know were alive until a few years ago."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen laughs softly, slipping his fingers into Alistair’s hair again, massaging Alistair’s scalp. “Fun kind only. And then another good lie-in afterward.”

[bringspeopletogether]

"Perfect."

A soft sigh; then, half-mumbled, "Keep doing that? Feels nice."

[howtoactfereldan]

A rumble of assent, deep in his chest.

If Alistair could just drift off for a little while — it might help, Cullen thinks.

[bringspeopletogether]

It's a very pleasant rumble; pleasant enough to coax a little more tension out of Alistair. He lets his eyes close with another quiet exhalation of breath.

He doesn't drift, really. But for now, he seems inclined to be quiet, and be still, as Cullen holds him. To just -- exist, in a space where he doesn't have to worry about anything beyond the walls of their bedroom.

[howtoactfereldan]

Looks like Cullen has taught Alistair the value of silence after all.

He can’t help smiling at the ceiling at that thought. Just a little bit.