howtoactfereldan | (no subject)

"Our farm is -- was -- south of here. Not too far. Fifteen minutes at a run."

He looks at the place the line hits the water. Nothing yet.

"You know I wanted to join the Order from a very young age. That meant I spent as much time as I could get away with at the Chantry. And my brother Branson was -- I suppose dismissive is the best way to put it. As much as a seven-year-old can be dismissive. In a fit of pique I headed toward the village, but I wanted a path where nobody could find me. And then I went over that ridge on the other side -- and there it was."

A soft chuckle. "Somehow I suspected Bran was involved."

He leans his head onto Cullen's shoulder.

"I would've stayed the entire day had it been me. Did you?"

"The one thing I know for certain about children is that when confronted with an unfamiliar body of water, every inch of it must be explored or else.

"Yes. Yes I did."

Alistair's grinning. "Excellent."

A wave slaps against the pier. The fire crackles behind them.

"...Perhaps we could go for a walk later." Softer. "Do our own exploring. If you'd like."

Cullen stiffens, just a little.

"I -- as long as we stay in sight of the lake -- "

Words.

"I don't want to see -- anything."

"I know -- "

He covers Cullen's hand where it rests on his shoulder.

"I know." Still soft. "I wasn't thinking we'd venture too far. Just -- along the shoreline."

Cullen breathes out. "I'd like that."

He leans his head against Alistair's.

"All right."

He circles his free arm around Cullen's waist, smiling faintly.

He kisses the top of Alistair's head.

"The fish could hurry," he mumbles. "So we can do more of this."

"Agreed," murmurs Alistair. "Very rude of them, being so late to lunch. I might doze off and miss them entirely."

"I should point out that we've got some time before the fire burns down enough," Cullen says.

Innocently.

"We did have quite an early start. If we rested a while, that would be fair."

Alistair lifts his head.

Looks at Cullen.

As solemn as he can, "You make a compelling point, Commander."

"I think I might deserve a nap. Just a small one."

"Without a doubt." One corner of Alistair's mouth twitches. "You've worked very hard for a very long time. Why don't we set up a bedroll for you."

Edited 2017-01-31 14:02 (UTC)

"Or we could set up both," Cullen suggests, "and engage in cooperative sloth."

"Mm. Even better."

Alistair runs his fingers along Cullen's hairline, tucking a stray, misbehaving curl behind his ear.

"Sloth's not nearly as pleasant alone."

Cullen wrinkles his nose. For show.

(As evinced by the way he pinks, just a touch.)

"We've a plan, then?" Beat. "Let's put a rock on that bait sack, lest your hard labor escape."

"An equally good plan." He smiles. "Don't want them crawling off the dock and giving our fish a free meal."

Alistair sneaks a quick kiss, then heaves himself up to go fetch the necessary rock.

(He is not sticking his hand in the water to try and dig one out of the lake bed.)

Reasonable -- yet Cullen sincerely hopes Alistair will wash his hands post-worm procurement.

He pulls the hook out of the water, and notes with extremely mild irritation that the bait's gone. All the more reason to get back to it after a little rest, he thinks.

Bedrolls, then. Cullen's got every intention of napping in the sun like one of Skyhold's barn cats.

Removing mud takes less time in the frigid water than digging up a rock. Once the bait's secured, Alistair dunks his hands just long enough to scrub them clean.

(Water this cold is just begging to be flung down the back of some unsuspecting person's neck. Not Cullen's, though. Alistair isn't that much of an ass.)

As he returns, drying his hands on the hem of his shirt, his eyebrows rise at the sight of Cullen setting up their bedrolls. "Oh." With some surprise. "Outside, then?"

Rather than backpedal immediately, Cullen gives Alistair a grin that could vaguely be described as impish.

"When's the last time you got to be lazy in the sun?"

"...Probably twenty-odd years ago."

He starts to smile: tentative, but pleased.

"Then it's past time to do it again, don't you think?"

"I suppose it might be."

He settles next to Cullen.

"Very well. I accept your generous and very lazy offer."

"Excellent," he proclaims, and promptly flops on his back, stretching. "No telling when we'll get another chance."