(no subject)

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen is fine in the field. He can set up a tent, build a fire, find water safe to drink, make something edible. But he hasn't traveled enough to get the knack of what's wise to bring.

These days it makes little difference, given his status: he helps to set up camp, but there are runners and adjutants to find and fetch things. And there are few enough of them, this time -- not the massed force of the Inquisition, but a patrol's worth of soldiers and scouts and accompanying support -- that in the evenings, Cullen finds himself... restless.

It's akin to the reason he doesn't frequent the Herald's Rest, but there's no office to hide in, and no paperwork to justify staying in the tent.

At least tomorrow he and Alistair will peel off to where Honnleath used to be, to spend the night and rejoin the rest again late the following day.

(This may also contribute to his fidgeting.)

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

It's nice and quiet.




Maybe he'll just stay under here. It's a little comfortable. Comfortable enough.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair frees one hand and sets it on Cullen's back again.

Gently, absently, he traces small circles with his palm.

[howtoactfereldan]

After a moment, Cullen pushes the pillow away, settling his head on his arms instead.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair slides his hand higher, following the ridge of Cullen's spine; he puts a little more pressure on the heel of his palm as he reaches the base of Cullen's neck.

Quiet, with a small (and rather crooked) smile: "Am I forgiven?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"No," Cullen says, dignified. "It made it inconvenient to breathe, that's all."

[bringspeopletogether]

Dryly: "Right. Of course."

He doesn't stop rubbing Cullen's back, however.

[howtoactfereldan]

"A steak pun is a rare medium well done."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Dammit -- "

Alistair splutters incoherently, then smacks his hand against Cullen's back as he falls into helpless laughter.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Ow," he complains. "Why?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's laughing too hard to answer right away.

"Sorry -- " finally emerges. "That, that was beautiful -- "

[howtoactfereldan]

"I told you it was excellent."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair nods, still giggling. After a moment, he gathers himself enough to plant a firm kiss on Cullen's cheek.

"I'm so proud," he says. "I love you."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen sighs; even he has to admit it's a theatrical sigh.

"Most people get that when they pull innocents out of burning buildings."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Well, there are plenty of other things I'm proud of you for doing," says Alistair, with great practicality, "but you'll make faces if I bring them up. So being proud of you for incredible puns it is."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen looks at him.

And makes a very horrible and pained face.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Yes." Peaceable. "Precisely like that."

He musses Cullen's hair.

[howtoactfereldan]

He puts up with it.





And then, quiet: "Out of your system?"

He's not smiling.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Yes."

Another kiss, softer, to Cullen's temple.

"I'll be quiet now."

[howtoactfereldan]

"Maybe -- don't pick at me."

Barely audible. He's not looking at Alistair.

"Is what I mean to say."

[bringspeopletogether]

Oh.

Alistair's smile, already fading, vanishes entirely.

"I didn't..." (No. That's not how to begin.) "I'm sorry. I didn't -- mean for it to sound that way."

More cautiously, his hand returns to Cullen's hair; settles there, without mussing or moving.

[howtoactfereldan]

"I know." No louder; Cullen doesn't move.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair can't say nice things without Cullen objecting. So he often teases instead, as affectionate as he can.

(But Alistair -- for whom words like witless, obnoxious, terrible have barely registered as insults for years -- sometimes has difficultly judging what's affectionate teasing and what's...not.

He's aware enough to know that much about himself.)

"What was it?" Quiet. "All of it?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen shakes his head a little.

"It went from -- being about other things, to me. Tonight isn't..."

They have a long day tomorrow.

"Not tonight."

[bringspeopletogether]

"All right." No louder.

Still cautious, he smooths his hand over Cullen's hair, just a little.

"I'm sorry."

[howtoactfereldan]

"It's all right."

Cullen can say that and mean it: it's stopped before he's had to work hard to control his temper.

(That way lies headaches, at the very least.)

"Thank you."