(no subject)

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen doesn't care for Morrigan, and it's wholly mutual. Fortunately he has little enough reason to venture into the Skyhold garden, with the exception of prearranged chess matches with Dorian.

He's seen the child before, watching wide-eyed as people move around the garden on business, or just to rest. The child doesn't talk to anyone -- doesn't want to be a bother, Cullen guesses. He speaks respectfully to Morrigan, as far as Cullen can tell, and it's clear that Morrigan loves her son.

Still. It must be lonely.

***

Dorian went to the Hissing Wastes with some of the Chargers, to take out a nest of Venatori. Cullen forgot.

The chessboard is already set. Morrigan's boy is watching by the well. Cullen beckons him over, introduces himself.

"I know," the boy says. "The collar marks you. My name is Kieran."

Cullen laughs, quiet. "Well, Kieran -- do you play?" At the boy's headshake, he asks, "Would you like to learn?"

He's a quick study. Maybe not today, but soon -- Cullen will start throwing games.

Comments

[bringspeopletogether]

Being back at Skyhold isn't as bad as he expected.

It's still bad, of course -- but that's more because it'd be bad anywhere. Alistair takes to idle wandering around the fortress most days and nights, anxious to keep moving whenever possible, retreating back to his room every so often when he fears he might haul off and punch someone for staring too long. Word about the prodigal Warden's return spread fast: where he would've been ignored before, he gets looks ranging from curiosity to concern to outright pity.

(A few times, he's spotted the Inquisition's resident Fade expert striding purposefully toward him, only to be intercepted by the Inquisitor with some Very Urgent Business or another. Alistair's pretty sure what qualified as "urgent business" was "keep Alistair from tearing the elf to shreds, both verbally and physically." He's grateful.)

His wandering takes him to the garden most days, Morrigan's presence be damned; he just sticks to the other side of courtyard and keeps his back to her. Today, thank the Maker, she seems to be elsewhere. It's just a handful of people, Cullen over there with his chessboard, and --

Oh.

Alistair slows his approach, halting about ten feet away. There's a convenient pillar to lean against. Or maybe hide behind, but -- no, he'll just lean against it and try to look as casual as possible as he watches the lesson.