howtoactfereldan | (no subject)

(no subject)

You'll have to make a decision quickly. Either don't come home and meet me in Halamshiral, or come home and have a day or two before turning for Orlais. They've called an Exalted Council. Josephine, Lavellan, and I must speak for the Inquisition in front of Orlais, Ferelden, and Divine Victoria. Two of those parties appear to be hostile to our continued existence. I will leave it to you to contemplate which two.

Be safe, Alistair, and go with my love.

Cullen doesn't bother signing it.

The library is silent. No one is in the rotunda -- Solas's rotunda, he thinks, even after all this time. There are always people in the yard, but many fewer than before.

(It's downright lonely, when Alistair travels. Cullen will never complain to him. Not after the last few years.)

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Immediately: "Done. You're first in my heart and the sole other occupant of our bed."

He squeezes Cullen's hand.

"It would be best," Cullen says, with another sidelong look, "if he were banned from the bedroom entirely."

Pause.

"Of course we'll compensate with a bedroll of his own."

"Probably a wise move." Laughing a little. "Maybe we'll get a fancy pillow for the bedroll to make it up to him."

"It would be only fair," Cullen agrees. "On one condition. It doesn't come from Orlais."

"Oh Maker, no," says Alistair with an exaggerated shudder. "He'll return to his roots as a proper Fereldan dog and forget this sorry, extended stay in Orlais ever happened."

That gets a smile out of Cullen, finally.

"I wonder if we could even manage to leave tomorrow," he muses.

A hard-fought victory! Alistair's smile warms.

"I've no objection," he says. Glancing down at the mabari, "What about you? Want to leave this wretched city tomorrow for somewhere far more civilized?"

The dog's stubby tail pinwheels in glee.

"It's not likely," he cautions. "Unless the two of you want to go ahead of me...?"

"Of course not." Gently, he nudges Cullen in the side. "We all go together. I wouldn't leave you behind."

Cullen wrinkles his nose at Alistair, shifting on his feet.

"But you could. If you wanted."

"I could," he allows, and lets go of Cullen's hand so he can sling an arm around his shoulders. "But I don't want to."

A beat.

"I could be in favor of taking our new friend back to our quarters to settle in, though."

Cullen slumps with relief, letting out a long breath. "I didn't want to ask."

A crooked smile. "I appreciate you indulging me."

He squeezes Cullen gently.

"And you may consider me successfully indulged. Come on, love."

He leans against Alistair for just a moment.

Softly, he says, "It'll be better once we're not... surrounded by people. At Skyhold. And after."

Alistair nods.

"Can I do anything in the meantime?" he asks. "Besides chase away any callers?"

They begin the walk back to their quarters, the mabari joyfully trotting among at their heels. So what if he's not allowed into this "bedroom" place? HE'S STILL GOT NEW FRIENDS.

Cullen reflects that this whole 'massive life changes' thing was much simpler in the earliest stages of lyrium withdrawal when all he had to do was vomit, sweat, hallucinate, and refuse any assistance from Cassandra or anyone else.

"I'm fine." Still soft. "Besides -- you've got someone to look after."

"Two someones," he corrects with a crooked smile. "As much as those someones will allow me."

Cullen's shoulders hunch a little. He focuses on the ground in front of them. One foot after another.

"I'm fine," he says again, helplessly. "Please."

Too much pushing.

"All right," he says, no louder. Staying quiet the rest of the way back to their house seems prudent: Alistair doesn't say anything else, but neither does he pull away.

(He feels -- unsteady again. Unsure. Perhaps he hasn't regained as much of his balance as he thought, after the nightmare knocked him askew.)

He just --

He needs space. Space to think. To react. Everything's changing out from under him. There's something else for Alistair's focus.

Thank the Maker for that.

"I'm -- going to lie down," Cullen says hesitantly as they enter their quarters. "I need... some time alone. Please?"

Alistair breathes out. "All right," he says again.

The dog circles Alistair's feet; thumps his hindquarters against the ground, gazing up at him. Alistair stretches a hand down to scratch the mabari behind the ears.

"I'll be here." He chances another tiny, lopsided smile. "Rest well."

Cullen couldn't hide the relief in his face even if he wanted to.

"I'll try." Beat. "Let's avoid fleas on the furniture?" His turn for a tiny smile as he nods to the mabari.

"He did get a bath before he came in." A beat. "Sort of."

Alistair leans to peck Cullen on the cheek.

"I'll give him another to be safe." When that gets an alarmed whine from the mabari, Alistair corrects himself: "Or I'll just keep him off the furniture?"

Cullen squeezes Alistair's hand. "Seems far more possible." A little amused, even. "And now you've got some leverage."

"Precisely." Laughing a little. "Our training's well under way."

The mabari barks agreement.

Lifting his chin toward the bedroom, Alistair adds, "Go enjoy your lie-down. I love you."