Cullen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
howtoactfereldan) wrote2017-04-11 08:59 pm
howtoactfereldan) wrote2017-04-11 08:59 pm
(no subject)
Cullen sets a brisk pace on their way back to Skyhold. He's been away long enough; he's ready to relieve Briony; he's ready to go about receiving full intelligence reports from Leliana instead of the truncated, heavily coded ones he receives in the field.
He is also ready to personally see to the laundering of his coat.
And Cullen is also ready to take at least half a day, and preferably more, to revel in solid walls and doors that lock.
As they ride through the sally port, Cullen glances over at Alistair. "I'll need to see Briony, and then I'll likely be called to the war room -- you're going to see Kieran?"
He is also ready to personally see to the laundering of his coat.
And Cullen is also ready to take at least half a day, and preferably more, to revel in solid walls and doors that lock.
As they ride through the sally port, Cullen glances over at Alistair. "I'll need to see Briony, and then I'll likely be called to the war room -- you're going to see Kieran?"
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Everything stays quiet for another beat or two. Alistair gives Cullen another small squeeze.
And then, softly, soft enough that it's felt more than heard, he starts to hum. The tune wanders in search of something familiar, but never quite finds it; maybe it's something he overheard in a tavern once, maybe a misremembered part of the Chant, maybe (most likely) something Alistair's just making up as he goes along.
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It doesn't take him long to doze off.
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Alistair trails off as he feels Cullen's breathing sink into the deep, steady rhythm of sleep. He lets his eyes close, focusing on the rise and fall of Cullen's chest under his arm; the quiet rustle of the leaves overhead; all the peaceful little quirks of noise and touch that mean home.
Soon after, he follows Cullen into sleep.