howtoactfereldan | (no subject)

As he does, Alistair steals the flask back for another sip.

Idly, he taps the thumb of his free hand against the ground.

He glances at Alistair.

"Anything else you want to do before we turn in?"

"Aside from this?"

He wiggles the flask from side to side before handing it back. One corner of his mouth curls up.

"I had a few ideas."

"No mayhem," he warns. "If you try, I'll go to sleep right now."

He leans closer.

Serene: "I wasn't thinking mayhem so much as revenge."

Cullen's expression freezes.

To his boots: "You shouldn't -- don't feel obligated. I didn't mean to, to make things -- difficult."

It's easier -- much easier -- if he can just... be still, and take care of Alistair. That's all he wanted from this break.

(This won't quite reach the surface of his conscious mind, but it doesn't make it less true: this isn't a place where he wants to lose control of himself, being as it's one of the few he has with wholly positive memories.)

That -- wasn't at all what Alistair expected.

His brow knits, the tiny smirk wiped from his face. "You didn't." (He sounds faintly bewildered.) "It was lovely. If you don't want to -- "

Gently, he brushes his fingertips over the hair near Cullen's temple.

Softer, "If you want to leave it at that, and just sleep, I'm fine with it."

"I want what you want." No louder.

(They wouldn't have come here, if not for Alistair.)

His mouth quirks, despite himself.

"And what I want," he murmurs, "is for you to be comfortable. All right?"

Cullen huffs a breath. Scrubs at his face.

Trying for dry: "You've a long wait ahead of you, then."

"I'm a patient man." The quirk starts to approach a true smile. "I'm willing to wait as long as necessary. Years, even."

"You can't tell me you're a patient man when you ate half tomorrow's rations before the fish were done."

It's weak. He's trying.

Alistair can respect the effort. He chuckles, low and fond.

"I was hungry," he insists. "Warden appetite. Can't be helped."

"And I suppose I'm obliged to generously allow that half to be my half?"

"Of course not." He cards his fingers through Cullen's hair again; cradles his cheek. "I accept the consequences of eating nearly everything in sight. If need be I'll catch another fish or two tomorrow."

He can feel himself being coaxed (whether or not it was Alistair's intent). A crooked smile; he leans his head into Alistair's hand.

"You certainly caught enough bait for it."

"Can't let it go to waste." His smile grows at the sight of Cullen's. "Though I suppose if I dumped it all back in the forest, those worms would have quite a tale to tell. Daring feats, enormous monsters, narrow escapes from the jaws of death..."

"It does seem only fair that they get something for their trouble," he agrees.

"I'd hope that if something a thousand times my size plucked me off the ground, stuffed me in a sock, and left me there for hours, I'd get a little more out of it than a good story." He's started to laugh, a little. "But in lieu of giving all the bait a good meal, it'll have to do."

"Consider the alternative."

He turns his head enough to kiss Alistair's palm.

"Getting out of it at all is a good day. A story is a fine bonus."

"True." Thoughtful. "Better that than being eaten by another monster a thousand times my size. Only that one swims."

"An eel," he says sagely.

Alistair opens his mouth. Visibly reconsiders what he's about to say.

"I promised I wouldn't invite more mayhem," he says, dutiful, "so I won't say anything more about man-eating eels in the lake."

Cullen laughs quietly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Warm.

He touches his lips to Cullen's forehead.

"Want to give sleeping a go?"