"Let's."

He looks up, smiling anew, then steps close enough to kiss Cullen on the cheek. "Come on, love."

He's -- admittedly still an uncomfortable knot of feelings over this, yet to be fully untangled. But it's a sword that needs sharpening, an important sword, and if Alistair just doesn't think too hard about who said sword belonged to a couple dozen ages ago, it'll be fine.

(If anyone but Cullen had tried to give it to him, he would've thrown himself in the nearest lake.)