Cullen (
howtoactfereldan) wrote2017-01-14 09:30 pm
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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.)
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.)
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His fingers wind deeper into Cullen's hair and hold firm. The kiss isn't so gentle any longer; for days they've had the barest modicum of privacy, and now -- it's like drinking your fill after a drought, coming home to a banquet after weeks of rations.
Surely they can put off finishing their campsite for a bit longer.
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It's not like it's unpleasant.
Cullen slips his hand down Alistair's back, pulling at the hem of his shirt until he can find bare skin.
He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a relief to go unobserved. It's been -- too long. Much too long.
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He shifts -- above Cullen, now, rather than beside him -- and picks up the kiss again, one hand planted in the dirt. The other traces a path up Cullen's side.
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"I'd hope -- " Between kisses. "Business can -- wait for a bedroll."
(There's definitely a rock digging somewhere it shouldn't be.)
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One more kiss.
...Okay, one more kiss after that one, too.
"Can I say," he adds, "that I am exceedingly glad I don't have to go without this for six weeks?"
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"Yes, I'm well aware you're only after one thing."
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"Thank you for calling it a very nice part." Stifling laughter. "That's something, I suppose."
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So very sweetly: "You're welcome. Always happy to provide compliments as needed."
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(He's thinking it, though.)
"Noted." Dry.
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(He might have some idea of what Cullen's thinking.)
Quiet: "Do you want me to go find bait?"
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And maybe once Cullen's had some time to himself, his spirits will lift back to where they were before.
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"How... touching."
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That statement might be a smidge more effective if Alistair didn't start laughing by the end. He heaves himself to standing, claps a hand to Cullen's shoulder, and wanders closer to the trees in search of appropriately crawly things.
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He returns to pulling up grass for the fire, and when that's done, he goes in search of fuel. If they're going to cook fish over coals, the fire needs time to burn.
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Luckily, they're easily distracted by digging out worms and beetles from the crevices of tree roots. Alistair's commandeered a sock from his pack -- they're right near a lake, it'll be easy enough to wash later -- and eventually tromps back with it three-quarters full and one hundred percent muddy.
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And starts laughing again. "Don't tell me that's full of -- "
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He holds out the sock to Cullen, beaming.
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Wheezing a little: "You look so proud of yourself -- "
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Seeing Cullen laugh like this is a rare treat. And it's contagious: Alistair's starting to laugh, too.
"I didn't come back from my quest empty-handed, who wouldn't be proud of that -- "
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