Summary:
Training to be a Templar isn't easy, especially when you don't want to be there in the first place.
Thankfully, Alistair gets a new roommate who turns his whole world around.
From first meetings to pranks; taking care of each other to supporting life changing decisions;
let me take you on a journey through Alistair and Cullen's-Chantry Days.
Notes:
Black Emporium 2017 - Prompt Fill
Pairing: Alistair/Cullen - I love my ex-templars. I will adore reading a fic about their younger days in the order together, can have or not have smut. I want fluff, some buddy relations, humor... whatever you want to write about! I love them too much 3
I love them too Ilyasviel! I'm happy to give you these boys in their chantry days. Since they're still in training, they are underage, so the smut is non existent - but the fluff and fun is here in spades. I hope you enjoy the budding relationship of these two beautiful boys!
All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games
All twisted perversions therein, are all on me ~ You're welcome!
Quick A/N - Instead of a time stamps, I've included Alistair and Cullen's ages at the top of each section to help you follow along this four-year-long journey.
Chantry Days
(Alistair 14)
"A roommate? Why am I getting another roommate?" Alistair asked the Chantry Sister. "You know they're just going to complain about me like the last one."
Sister Natalie chuckled, "And the one before that, and the one before that."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't remind me. They always complain, I'm just not… roommate material. Maker, I'm not even Templar material." Alistair sighed deeply, "I'm not like them, Nat. They actually want to be here, where as I… well, no one else wanted me, so where else were they going to send me?" He sat down heavily on his bed.
Sister Natalie wrapped an arm around Alistair and kissed the top of his head. "Perhaps we just haven't found you the right one yet."
From the day Alistair was dropped off to begin his Templar training, Sister Natalie was there. She was his guardian, his guide, and-up to now-his only friend. Whenever he had a hard day, she was the one to offer him a shoulder to lean on. More often, though, she was the one to dispense the punishment when his mischievous ways got him into trouble. Sister Natalie was the mother figure in Alistair's life, no doubt about that.
Alistair rested his head on her shoulder. "Well, hopefully this one won't be as ghastly as the last one. Did I tell you that he used to stick his dirty socks in my pillowcase? It was awful!"
She chuckled. "Yes, dear. I do believe I heard that story. As well as the one where he washed all your under garments with a pouch full of raspberries."
"Ugh, that was awful! They're still pink, y'know. How can anyone take me seriously when I have to wear pink smalls?"
"I didn't think it mattered to you what people thought; you've always marched to your own tune."
"But it's not like I enjoy walking around with a giant target on my back. I'm different; I always have been; doesn't mean I want to stick out."
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before Alistair's curiosity got the better of him. "So… what can you tell me about my new cellmate? "
"Oh, Alistair, you know it's not that bad here."
He shrugged while scuffing at the floor with his toe. "So, do we know anything about him? Should I prepare for the worst?"
She smiled. "I know his name is Cullen, he will be here by the end of the week, and he's going to need some extra help once he gets here; which is why I'm putting him with you. "
"Why does he need help? He's eleven right? He'll make friends with the kids his own age and will only have to put up with me at bedtime and during room inspections."
"No, dear. He's not." Natalie patted Alistair's knee. "He's thirteen."
"Thirteen? Is he transferring in from another abbey then?"
She smiled softly while shaking her head. "Cullen wasn't allowed to join when he became old enough. He's going to have a lot of studying to do to catch up to where the rest of you boys are. I'm placing him with you, because you're the best suited to get him up to speed."
"Is it because I'm so devout in my prayers and top of the class in my swordwork?" Alistair asked sarcastically.
"You're Andrastian studies could certainly do with a little work, maybe in that, Cullen can help you." Natalie laughed. "Your physical training, however, is impressive. But that's not why I'm placing him with you."
"Well, why then? Is he being forced to be here too?"
"No, Alistair," she said patiently. "It's always been Cullen's dream to serve the order. I'm placing him with you because out of everyone here, you have the most patience for those that are different. He's coming in two full years behind the rest of you, his desire to serve rivals your desire to prove yourself. I'm hoping you'll balance each other out."
Alistair blushed at her compliments, but responded with his usual deflection, "Oh great, another zealot." He rolled his eyes heavenward.
"Just give him a chance, Alistair. That's all that I ask. He comes from a fairly large family and this will be his first time away from home. You, more than anyone, know how cruel some of these kids can be. He's going to need a friend. I expect you to guide him, direct him, help him study-"
"Am I being punished for something?"
"No, dear. I'm just hoping that you'll finally make a friend."
"Fine, but don't come crying to me when I wind up peeling potatoes or scrubbing the floors when things inevitably go tits-up!"
"Alistair! Language!"
"Sorry, ma'am."
(Cullen 13)
When he got his room assignment, Cullen wasn't sure what to expect. It certainly wasn't the pleasant redhead currently smiling and chattering away in the bed across from him while he unpacked.
Painfully aware of how far behind he was in his studies, as much as he wanted to like his new roommate, he didn't really have time to make friends. "Look, I um… don't mean to be rude, but I have to finish unpacking so I can get started on my studies."
"Oh, I know all about that." Alistair's smile was infectious. "Once you're done unpacking, I'm supposed to give you the tour and get you started on basic rules before the evening meal. If you're impatient to get started, just dump all of your stuff in the footlocker and we can head out now."
Cullen gasped, "You… can't be serious! How am I supposed to function if my stuff is just tossed in there without organization?" He shook his head in horror. "No, I can't just dump my stuff then run off with you; I have to put everything in its place first. Once it all has a home-and only then-will I be ready for my tour."
Alistair rolled his eyes. "Fine, be all neat and tidy then." Alistair grinned, showing there was no heat behind his words. "I have to keep my own side of the room clean for room inspections, just uh… don't look inside my chest ok? It might stress you out."
Cullen nodded sagely as he painstakingly folded each item and tucked it safely into his trunk. He even made little dividers, so his socks didn't touch his smallclothes.
Suddenly, Alistair giggled, "You even fold your smalls?"
At the unimpressed glare from Cullen, Alistair backpedaled, "I mean… I guess, I can see the logic in it. You don't have to dig through everything every morning trying to find them, or sniff things to see if they're clean."
Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, but smiled apologetically. "Alistair, could you just-um-stop talking? Please? I need to concentrate to get this finished, and you're very… distracting."
"Uh, yeah. Sure. Ok."
To his credit, Alistair sat quietly with his feet drawn up on his bed, watching intently as Cullen finished settling in.
Once his things were all put away, Cullen smiled gratefully. "Thank you for that. I know it might seem a bit odd coming from a home with three siblings, but sometimes it's hard for me to concentrate if there's too much going on around me."
"Four kids, wow. I have… Well, it's just... me, that I know of."
"That you know of?"
Alistair shrugged. "I don't actually know who my parents are, so I don't know if I have any siblings. I certainly never got to grow up with any."
"Have you been here your whole life then?"
"Only since my eleventh birthday when I was old enough to start my training. I lived with my uncle Eamon and his wife until then. But she… she doesn't really like me and never wanted anything to do with me; so I spent most of my time outside with the mabari."
"Real mabari? They must be important to have fighting hounds like that."
"I suppose they are, he is Arl of Redcliff." When Cullen's eyes blew wide in awe, Alistair tried to explain away his importance, "even though I call him uncle, I don't think we're actually related. Sometimes, I wonder how he got landed with me: who was he trying to protect, or who did he piss off?" Alistair voiced this without any heat, just apathetic resignation.
"Ouch, that's rough." Cullen sighed sympathetically. "I thought I had it bad with parents too overprotective to let me start my training on time. I know they love me though; I can't imagine not having that support behind me."
"Well, I have Sister Natalie; she makes up for a lot. The other recruits tease me that she plays favorites. I should probably warn you, I don't actually fit in here very well. I'm not the most popular and I honestly don't have a lot of friends." Alistair shrugged then he smirked. "I can't say it bothers me though, I'd rather have her watching my back than any of those jerks anyday."
Cullen laughed. "Well, I'll have your back now too. We oddballs have to stick together, right?"
Alistair's face lit up. "I like the sound of that; you and I against the world!"
"Absolutely!" Their eyes locked for a moment as something clicked into place between them.
"C'mon. Let's get on with your tour before we head to the galley for supper. I hear tonight, we're having nug casserole!"
Cullen frowned with distaste.
"Hey, don't knock it until you try it! They cover it with so much cheese , you can't even taste the nug." In a terrible Antivan accent, Alistair added, "cheese is a very gouda for you!"
Groaning, Cullen joined Alistair at the door. "Are all of your jokes that bad?"
"Actually, no." He grinned even wider and winked. "Most of them are even cheesier !"
(Alistair 14-15; Cullen 13-14)
Cullen's training turned out to be everything he hoped it would be. Sure it was hard work, but the exhaustion he felt at the end of each day was rewarding and left him feeling calm, content, and for the first time in his life, he was working toward his dream.
At first, Cullen thought he would have preferred a roommate that was a little less talkative; but he quickly grew fond of his quirky roommate with a crazy love of cheese. From that very first day, they got along well. Alistair just naturally seemed to know what Cullen needed, sometimes even before he did. He'd never made a friend before that wasn't directly associated with his family, but he and Alistair just made sense together.
Talking with Alistair was effortless; where talking to anyone else, was always difficult for Cullen. He wasn't necessarily shy, per say, just awkward and tended to either say the wrong thing and be misunderstood, or just say nothing at all. That was usually safer. But he never worried about that with Alistair.
Cullen was initially worried about catching up with his lessons; but Alistair worked with him extensively on his swordwork whenever they had any free time, so he was improving quickly. Alistair wasn't particularly interested in the book portion of their studies, however, but he was always willing to sit with Cullen while he studied or practiced reciting the chant. So even that was helpful, in its own way.
Cullen learned early on that being friends with Alistair came with its fair share of hazards. It turned out, Alistair was somewhat of a mischief maker and a trickster. This meant that Cullen found himself devoting more time than he would have liked, trying to talk Alistair out of making the chantry Sisters' days, more interesting -as Alistair liked to put it.
He never did anything harmful, but Alistair had a natural propensity toward moving laundry out into the garden, hiding the cook's favorite soup ladle, and replacing the sisters copies of the Chant of Light with Swords & Shields , among other mostly harmless antics.
When he wasn't able to dissuade Alistair, Cullen tagged along in the hopes of helping him avoid some of the more severe punishments the Sisters liked to dish out. Pranks weren't exactly Cullen's style, but when it came to Alistair, he was helpless to say no.
As his best friend , Cullen wasn't exempt from being the target when Alistair got in a mood. He was devout in his faith and liked to spend time in the chapel. Cullen had been pulled from his benedictions more times than he could count, by a very determined Alistair.
It became somewhat of a game to them. Cullen took it as a challenge of his faith to see how long he could stay focused amongst Alistair's distractions. Starting with close proximity and making faces, Alistair would quickly escalate to running feathers down Cullen's neck and cracking lewd jokes.
One day, when he was deep in his meditation, the Chant flowing fluidly from his lips; Cullen became aware of a very wet tongue licking a stripe from his chin to his eyebrow.
"Ewww, Alistair, Gross!" He chided.
"I'm bored." Alistair whined. "And I'm hungry. What do you suppose they're making for supper?"
"You're always hungry, Alistair."
"Not, Always!" He defended, but there was an unusual pink tinge to his cheeks that reached the tips of Alistair's ears.
I wonder what that's about?
Alistair and Cullen loved to take midnight trips to the larder to pilfer bread and cheese for picnics on the roof. This was where Alistair was at his most serious. These late night outings were where they discussed their hopes, fears, and dreams. They'd lay on their backs and stare at the stars; sometimes for hours. This was the only place Alistair would completely lower his walls and just be himself.
Up there, there were no secrets between them.
It was on these late night excursions that they discovered the most about each other. They were very different people: one wanting nothing more than to devote his life to the Maker and Andraste, the other-just trying to find his place in a world that never wanted him. The best part was, they complemented each other: roommates, classmates, best friends; what more could they ask for?
What indeed?
About a year into Cullen's training, Alistair found an older recruit, Westley, standing over Cullen with his practice sword aimed at his throat. Cullen's nose was bloody and bruises lined his face, his own practice sword on the other side of the room. Based on the look of pure hatred on Cullen's face, whatever Westley was spewing couldn't have been good.
Alistair approached the situation silently from behind. He quickly gripped the handle of the practice sword and twisted it out of Westley's hand while sweeping his legs out from under him, landing him in the dirt. "Oh I'm sorry, Westley, was I interrupting something important?" He looked down at Cullen, noting all of the extra scratches and bruises covering his shirtless body.
"I was just instructing the little show off, that to get anywhere in this world, he needed to choose his friends wisely." Westley looked Alistair over with a distasteful sneer. "His current choice in a friend is doing nothing for his advancement."
To this day, Alistair still doesn't remember what happened next. One minute he was trying to control his anger as that little shit turned his nose up at his friendship with Cullen; the next minute he was standing over Westley, his nose broken and face bloody, as he cried for his mother.
Alistair spent over a week in solitary confinement for that. Well, that's not what they called it. But he was stuck in a small room and allowed no visitors. He was supposed to reflect on his transgressions. Alistair didn't regret it, though, not all of it. That asshole hurt Cullen, only because he was his friend. That was where his regret lie, not in Westley getting the shit beat out of him. Cullen should never have gotten hurt, just for being his friend.
It was on the third day of his punishment, that Alistair was interrupted in his task of counting the ceiling tiles… again. There were sixty-nine of them-by the way-which gave Alistair a whole five minutes worth of giggles when he found out. There should have been seventy, but one tile was missing, leaving a hole in his ceiling. It was on this day, that Alistair heard scuffling above him. He stopped at tile forty-two and waited as the scritching grew closer.
Great, just what I need: rodents joining me in my confinement.
Alistair was looking around for something to defend himself with, when a blonde, curly mop of hair popped out of the hole in the ceiling. Cullen's smile was the best thing he'd ever seen.
"Finally! I've been trying to figure out where they were holding you for two days! Don't move!" Cullen giggled. "I mean, you can't actually go anywhere. It's just-hold that thought, I'll be right back."
The hole was empty once again, but Alistair could tell that Cullen hadn't gone far. There was some more scuffling around before a rope cascaded down the hole, followed by a small sack, and finally Cullen shimmied down the rope, landing quietly inside Alistair's little cell.
"Cozy." Cullen said as he looked around appreciatively. "I think with a tapestry or two on the walls, perhaps a throw rug on the floor, this could be quite homey."
Cullen's smile was blinding, and Alistair was still staring at him agape from his spot on his cot. "Did you just-" Alistair looked around the room, then back at Cullen. "Did you sneak out, break into my room, then crack a joke? Maker, either I'm dreaming, or I've been a very bad influence on you. If Sister Natalie finds out-"
"Oh, shush." Cullen plopped down next to Alistair on the hard cot and began digging inside the bag. "Who do you think indirectly told me where you'd be found and how I could get here? I don't know what you did to deserve her, but that woman loves you. Here-" Cullen began pulling cheese, dried meat, bread, and a couple apples out of his bag, plopping them all unceremoniously into Alistair's lap.
His eyes misted over; three days by himself-with no one to talk to-was driving Alistair mad. Now, here was his friend-at the behest of his guardian-breaking all sorts of rules, just for him. Unable to hold back, Alistair wrapped his arms around Cullen, choking back the tears, and whispered a heartfelt, "thank you."
Hesitantly at first, then tighter, Cullen hugged him back. "It's the least I could do, Alistair. You got into trouble, because of me. I should have just let his words roll off me like you always do, but then he started in on you and I lost my composure. I'm so sorry."
"This isn't your fault, Cullen. I'm used to getting teased and picked on. After a while, you just learn to ignore it. I'm sorry that being my friend made you his target." Alistair looked at Cullen closely; the bruises on his face were starting to yellow around the edges and there was a small cut still on his cheek. "How are you doing? You look like you've been patched up okay."
Cullen shrugged one shoulder, taking the loaf of bread and breaking it in two, he handed half to Alistair. "I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt anymore." He looked up suddenly with a very un-Cullen-like grin on his face. "Westley, though, he's still in the infirmary."
"What? Why? They could have had any one of the mages heal him by now."
"Well, when Sister Natalie heard what happened, she was livid! She couldn't do anything about your punishment at that point, but that woman has an evil streak in her. She refused Westley magical healing in hopes that his slower recovery would help him see the error of his ways."
Alistair sat, mid-bite, unable to respond. He knew Sister Natalie cared about him and was protective of him. When Cullen wasn't able to keep him from some of his more dangerous pranks, she was always there to help lessen the fallout of his punishment. He wasn't really all that surprised to learn she'd instigated this late night visit, but he was very surprised to see her wrath lashed out at someone else on his behalf.
Alistair finally managed to swallow his bite. "What actually happened, Cullen? I remember Westley standing over you and I remember disarming him. But after that…"
"You really don't remember? I thought, you were saying that to ease the punishment."
At Alistair's down turned eyes and shake of his head, Cullen told him what happened in excited detail: Alistair's blind rage, the broken nose, fractured ribs, bruised abdomen where Alistair kicked him, and an impressive gash that traveled from his left ear across his jaw and finally stopped at his chin.
"And you know the funniest part?" Cullen rolled his eyes. "He doesn't even care about the rest, all he seems to be worried about is how he's going to look when he's all healed. He's pissed that you've messed up his pretty face and that Sister Natalie wouldn't allow the mages to properly heal him."
"Did they set his nose at least?"
Cullen grinned again. "They did. You should have heard him crying like a baby. But they did straighten it out."
Alistair nodded; he really didn't have anything to add to the conversation for once. He felt bad that he lost control like that; he would try to do better. On the other hand, he also felt justified in his actions; Cullen was his friend, he didn't see there ever being a possible future where he wouldn't come to his aid or defend him.
"Thank you, Cullen, for coming." Alistair finally said as the silence stretched between them. They'd been sitting comfortably with their backs against the wall, shoulders touching, while they worked their way through the food and pouch of water that Cullen brought with him. "I know that I'm the one that usually drags you out to do stuff like this and now you're out breaking the rules all by yourself. I'm not sure if I should be proud or worried for tainting your soul."
Cullen ducked his head sheepishly. "To tell you the truth, our room isn't the same without you. Sister Natalie warned me not to come every night, but I'll be back in a couple of days to visit again, if that's okay with you?" Cullen got up and retrieved all the evidence of his visit, stuffing it back into the bag. "You going to be ok in the meantime?"
"I'll be fine, Cullen. This isn't my first visit to this room, and honestly speaking, it probably won't be my last either." Alistair paused for a moment before finally deciding on admitting, "at least this time, my incarceration wasn't unwarranted. It was worth it- you're worth it-and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
Cullen hugged Alistair tightly. "Thank you, Alistair. For everything." Grinning, he tied the bag to his belt, grabbed onto the rope and began to climb. "I will see you in a couple of days. Stay out of trouble, will you?"
"I'll do my best, but it won't be easy!"
(Alistair 16, Cullen 15)
Alistair knew something was wrong that morning when he woke up. Cullen was usually up long before he was, but today, he was still sleeping; a huddled, moaning heap in his bed.
"Hey Cullen, wake up! I don't want to be late, they're teaching me polearms today." Alistair was excited for once, he'd been looking forward to this particular lesson for weeks.
Cullen mumbled something incoherent from beneath the covers.
"What's wrong?" Carefully pulling back the covers, Alistair's face fell with concern when he spied the unruly mop of golden curls plastered with sweat to Cullen's brow. "Oh, Cullen, are you sick?" He briefly touched his forehead. "You're burning up. I'll let them know that you won't be down today, ok? You stay here and rest; I'll try to check on you as often as I can."
Alistair noticed him shivering just as Cullen mumbled through chattering teeth, "It's cold, Al."
"I'll build back up the fire before I leave, and here." Alistair rushed over to his own bed, pulling the blanket from it then placing it carefully over the top of his friend.
Cullen snatched up the blanket and curled it around him; burying his nose in the cloth. "Mmm... smells like you." He mumbled before drifting off to sleep again.
Alistair didn't have time to question the odd statement. He quickly built up the fire, set a glass of water on Cullen's nightstand, then ran out the door for his first class.
When he came back to check on Cullen midday, Sister Natalie was already there. "I figured you'd be back to see how he was doing before your day was over." She smiled kindly. "He's sleeping now, but managed to drink some broth for me earlier."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Alistair asked worriedly.
"Just keep him warm and make sure he drinks plenty of fluids. He should be ok in a couple of days." She looked over at Alistair's unmade bed. "I'll bring you another blanket as well, since you've given yours away. Let him rest for now; get back to class; I will be here for him if he needs me. You can check on him again after supper."
When he returned later that evening, Cullen was still shivering in bed. It looked like Natalie came by with more broth and tea for him, but neither of them had been touched. Changing out of his clothes, he washed quickly in the basin before putting on his sleep pants and approaching Cullen's bed.
"Hey Cullen, wake up."
"Mmmf," came the reply from deep within the blankets.
"C'mon, you need to drink some of this while it's still warm."
After more grumpling, the lump turned over. "Can't," he sighed. "I hurt... and it's still cold."
Alistair rolled his eyes, thinking that Cullen was just being overdramatic, then he pulled back the covers. His smile quickly faded to concern as he took in Cullen's flushed cheeks. "Hey Cullen, look at me, please."
Cullen's lids fluttered open, but his eyes were glossy and unfocused. Taking pity on his friend, he placed his hands over his eyes, allowing them to close again. "You still need to stay hydrated. I'm going to help you, okay?"
Cullen nodded almost imperceptibly.
Alistair climbed into the bed next to him, placing his back against the headboard. Reaching his hands under Cullen's arms, he pulled him to a sitting position, resting his back against his chest. His head lolled loosely onto Alistair's shoulder, held in place just under his chin. Making sure the blankets were still tucked firmly around Cullen for warmth, he picked up the cup of broth with one hand and held it steady. "You're going to have to help me here." Placing one hand in support of Cullen's forehead, he touched the still-warm cup to his lips. Cullen opened his mouth and swallowed slowly as Alistair slowly poured it in.
It took the better part of an hour for Alistair to get Cullen to finish the broth and one full cup of water, but it was worth it. It felt good to help. Never really having any friends before, this experience of caring for someone was all new. He didn't even mind the sweaty body plastered to his chest. After Cullen finished his liquids, he nodded back off to sleep with his head tucked into Alistair's neck. He snored softly as Alistair absentmindedly ran his fingers through Cullen's wet hair, trying to dry it in the warm room.
The door slowly opened and Alistair stiffened. He relaxed when he saw that it was only Natalie. She smiled as she approached to collect the tray and Alistair tried to explain, "this was the only way I could get him to eat and then he fell asleep. Since he was sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to wake him."
"You don't need to explain, dear. It's all right. Sleep is the best thing for him right now, however he can get it. Would you like some help laying him back down?"
"No, I'll give him a few more moments then I'll do it. Thank you, though. He is…" Alistair swallowed thickly. "He is going to get better, isn't he?"
"Of course he will, dear. It's only a fever and will burn itself out soon. The best we can do is keep watch over him and make sure he stays hydrated." She went to retrieve the spare blanket from Alistair's bed and draped it over them both.
"Thank you." He looked down at Cullen nestled against him.
"You should get some rest too, Alistair."
He nodded absently, still focused on Cullen finally resting peacefully in his arms.
Sister Natalie picked up the tray and quietly left the room. After a few more moments of quiet contemplation, Alistair began to extract himself from behind Cullen to lay him back down on the mattress.
"Mmmf."
Alistair chuckled at the incoherent sounds Cullen was making. "What was that? I'm not sure I caught that."
"You're warm," Cullen said thickly. "Don't leave."
"You sure, Cullen?"
Cullen rolled over in bed, leaving enough room behind him for Alistair to slide in. Slipping beneath the covers, Alistair scooted up flush to Cullen's back. There was an audible sigh of contentment as Cullen leaned back into Alistair's warmth; it was hard to say who it came from.
"Sooo warm." If possible, Cullen burrowed in deeper.
"Is this ok, Cullen?"
"Mmm hmm."
Unsure of where to put his arms, Alistair eventually settled for draping one over Cullen. Keeping one pillowed beneath his head, he whispered, "let me know if you need anything, ok? Anything at all."
"Thank you, Al."
"Anytime, Cullen."
Alistair couldn't remember the last time he snuggled up to someone like this, or if he ever did.
His life wasn't exactly filled with overly affectionate family or siblings. Though this was a unique experience, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Eventually sleep claimed him.
Waking the next morning, Alistair found himself alone in Cullen's bed. Confused, he rolled over, wondering where Cullen went. He found him sitting on his bed, looking at him with mixed expressions crossing his face. Alistair wasn't sure if it was horror, disbelief, or something else. Perhaps he'd overstepped his bounds last night, even though he was only doing what Cullen asked him to.
"Alistair, I..." Cullen started. "Um… Why are you in my bed?"
"You don't remember?"
Cullen shook his head, a slight flush to his cheeks.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better, I guess. Just… a little confused. I started feeling off after supper yesterday? No, the day before. I got permission to come up to rest. I guess I slept pretty hard, because I don't remember anything else until I woke up with you next to me."
"When I woke up yesterday, you were delirious, shivering, and burning up." Alistair sat up carefully, trying not to spook Cullen. "You said you were cold, so I built up the fire and left you with some water. When I got back after supper, Sister Natalie left you a tray with some broth and water, but you weren't able to sit up to drink it, so I… helped you. And when I tried to leave again, you asked me to stay… you said I was warm." Alistair looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. "I'm… sorry Cullen, I didn't mean to make you... uncomfortable ."
Cullen nodded, then shook his head. "It's… No… I'm sorry to be such a burden on you. I honestly don't remember any of that… did I… did I say or do anything else?"
"Don't apologize, Cullen. You didn't do anything wrong. And you would have done the same for me, I'm sure. You were cold; I was just trying to help. I hope… that's all right. You relaxed once I crawled into bed and then drifted off to sleep almost immediately."
Small snippets of last night were starting to bleed into Cullen's hazy memories. "No, it's... I mean, yes, it's fine. When I was little, Mia used to climb into bed with me when I was sick, she said sometimes it was the only way to get me to settle. Um, thank you Alistair. That was unexpected, but just… thank you." Cullen blushed lightly.
Alistair got out of bed and stretched catlike. Cullen's eyes drank in lean muscle and chuckled at Alistair's groans and the very loud pops of his joints. "Do you always make that much noise when you wake up?"
"You'd know if you weren't such an ungodly early riser." Alistair laughed "I'm gonna go hit the baths, you wanna come before our first lesson? Are you feeling up for it?"
"Uh, yeah, that's probably not a bad idea. Need to take my bedding to the laundry too. I feel like I sweated through everything."
"You did." Alistair chuckled. "Hey, Cullen?"
"Hmm?" He looked up, locking gazes. "Don't worry about it. I'm happy that I could be here to help you through it. If I was able to give you any comfort or relief, then it was worth it, so don't… don't be embarrassed, okay? I don't want this to get weird . You're my best friend."
A small smile played across Cullen's face. "Ok, Alistair. And y'know - if you ever need me , I'm here."
They grinned at each other, then Alistair broke the silence, "Okay-let's get this bed stripped, grab our towels, and head down to breakfast.
(Alistair 16, Cullen 15)
After that first night, it wasn't a strange occurrence for them to wake up in each other's beds. Initially, it only happened when one or other of them were sick or had a nightmare. It was comforting and easily dispelled the demons plaguing their minds. Eventually, they realized that they actually slept better when they were together: drifted off quicker, stayed asleep longer, and all around, just felt more rested when they woke up. They didn't think anything of it; they were just friends after all, but as they grew older, perhaps it was growing into something more.
One morning, during his 16th year, Alistair woke up groggy and confused. Cullen was draped over him, which wasn't unusual; his friend slept like a giant tentacled sea creature, all wrapped around him. As he tried to shift, Alistair noticed that there was something hard jabbing him in the back. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep, was Cullen reading to him from the newest addition of, Swords and Shields.
Looks like Cullen fell asleep reading too, I hope he didn't get too much farther than where I fell asleep.
Alistair looked over his shoulder at Cullen's slackened face nestled up behind him, the book in question, resting where it belonged on the nightstand.
So if that isn't the book jabbing me then what is…. Oh!
Alistair shifted minutely at the realization and in doing so, Cullen moaned, hips grinding against his ass, stirring up all sorts of new feelings within him.
"Hey, Cullen?" Alistair tried to stay calm.
Cullen thrust forward, seeking friction, not seeming to hear him. When Alistair tried to move away, he heard a barely-there whisper, "Oh, Alistair." His name spoken so ardently from Cullen's lips was causing his own flaccid appendage to twitch with interest. He knew he couldn't-wouldn't-do that to Cullen while he was sleeping.
They were growing boys, with natural desires and urges. They shared everything with each other; they'd even discussed the appropriateness of when and where to take care of themselves, going so far as to set up a schedule for private time . Cullen enjoyed his schedules and routines after all, so who was Alistair to argue with him? So far, it worked out well for them. But this was… this was something else .
Alistair's breath hitched as Cullen tightened his arms around him, hands roaming over his chest; lightly grazing his nipple. He stifled a moan, resisting the urge to press back against Cullen's urgent thrusts. "Cullen, please wake up." Alistair's pleas were half hearted. He was well aware of his feelings for Cullen, but until now had assumed them unrequited.
Rolling over, he placed one hand firmly on Cullen's hip, stilling it in its search for something to press up against. "Hey, Cullen. Buddy, it's time to wake up." He choked back his own excitement and stifled his own desires. Removing his hand from Cullen's hip, Alistair shook his shoulder.
Cullen's eyes fluttered open. There was space between them now, so when Cullen's eyes landed on Alistair, there was no evidence that anything untoward had been happening.
Alistair grinned. "Well, good morning, sunshine." He paused for a moment, looking for a reason he would be waking Cullen up before their usual time.
"What time is it?" Cullen groaned and rolled over on his back, pulling his knees up to hide his usual morning erection. If he was aware of his previous actions, he wasn't showing it.
Alistair smiled fondly, "I thought we could go down early and work with the pole arms before breakfast. Y'know, give you a head start for when you get to officially train with them next year." Being a whole year behind Alistair, he was usually given a preview of things to come in his training. Alistair was a patient tutor, and loved having a sparring partner that he could work so well with together. Cullen was a thirsty student, drinking up all that he could, whenever he could. So this invite wasn't really out of the norm for them.
Cullen rubbed his hands down his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, Alistair. Let me get dressed and we can head down.
Alistair watched Cullen sit up in bed and throw his legs over the side, pausing for a moment with his head in his hands. He thought he saw Cullen take a shuddering breath before composing himself and heading off for his morning ablutions.
(Alistair 17, Cullen 16)
Alistair and Cullen only grew closer as time went on. They were ever constant companions. They practiced together, studied together, ate together. When one stumbled, the other was always there to help them get back up. They received a fair amount of teasing, but never let it get to them. As long as they were together, they could face anything. Best friends forever, but Alistair could no longer deny the fact that he hoped one day they could be more. He strongly suspected that Cullen felt the same way, but neither of them had yet gathered the courage to broach the topic.
Alistair was nearing the middle of his 17th year, Cullen was still 16. Alistair would be undertaking his vigil and then his vows soon, and after that, he would be sent wherever the order wanted to send him. As much as they'd talked and dreamed about staying together and getting posted at the same circle when they completed their training, Alistair had a feeling that their time together was coming to an end. The thought was tearing him apart.
Their friendship was an ever present balm for both of them. With less than a year left of their time together, Alistair worried that he'd never get to tell Cullen how much he truly meant to him. Sure, Cullen knew that he loved him, but Alistair had come to realize that he was actually in love with him. The looks they shared, gentle touches... hell, they slept in the same bed more often than not... but they had yet to cross the line into something more .
Shortly before he was to devote his life to the Maker and his bride, the recruits got word that a Grey Warden would be visiting and that they would be putting on a tournament in his honor; the winner was to be allowed the honor of joining the Wardens. Many of the recruits lived their whole lives to serve in the Templar order; they weren't interested. Several of them, however, were very interested.
Once Alistair heard about it, he could think of little else. He never really wanted to be a Templar, that life never felt right for him. He was here simply because this is where his aunt and uncle sent him. The fact that he'd met Cullen was a bonus that he couldn't deny.
During training one day, Alistair broached the subject of the coming tournament.
"Hey Cullen. I've been thinking..."
"Uh oh," Cullen bantered back easily. "That's never a good thing."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, not all of us can be as smart as you are with your books and your memorized chants and all that. No, I was thinking about the Warden that will be here next week. Do you… Do you think I have a chance? I mean, I know how much being a Templar means to you, but I… it's never felt right for me, y'know? But being a Warden!" Alistair sighed with longing. " That, I can do. I'd still be helping others and my training wouldn't have been wasted, in fact, I think it can only help. But, do you think, that maybe, that's the life that I'm destined for?"
A myriad of emotions flit across Cullen's face before a softness settled in his eyes. "I know you didn't choose this life, Alistair. As much as we've talked about getting posted together in the circle, we both know that the chances of that are very slim." Cullen sighed heavily. "It would be selfish of me to try to keep you here in a world that you cannot embrace. I… want you to be happy, Alistair. I want you to have the choice to do something youwant, for once. If that's being a Warden, then I will support you however you need me to. And to answer your question, you are one of the best sword arms here; so yes, I do think you have a chance."
Alistair bowed his head bashfully. "Thank you, Cullen. I was worried that you'd be mad. I know how much being a Templar has always meant to you."
"It's my everything," Cullen said honestly. "If you're going to win that tournament and become the next Grey Warden, though, you're going to have to step up your game."
Cullen already disarmed Alistair three times out of four this session.
"Hey, it's not my fault you learned freakishly fast. You surpassed my tutoring two years ago."
"So… let's go again."
They faced off against each other for the next hour. Lost in the comfortable movements, familiar after so much repetition. The actions were so ingrained in them, there was no thought to make them happen, they just did ."
As Alistair stepped in for an overhead attack, Cullen side stepped and swept Alistair's legs out from underneath him. In a last moment attempt to save his balance, Alistair grabbed onto Cullen's tunic, bringing him down with him. Alistair landed on his back, Cullen lay laughing and breathless across his chest. Their eyes locked and the laughter slowly faded, followed by the smiles. Alistair licked his lips, Cullen tracked the motion with his eyes.
Alistair sighed breathily, "Cullen." before Cullen dipped his head in for a chaste kiss. It was brief, just testing the waters, yet it was everything.
"Alistair," Cullen answered, searching his eyes. "Please tell me you want this too." His tone held a note of fear.
Forgetting his sword and shield, Alistair cupped Cullen's face. "I do; I want this so much, even if we only get it for a short time." Pulling Cullen down, once again, their lips sought each other out. Their tongues tentatively touched, opening the floodgates.
Neither was sure who stopped first, but they soon realized that anyone could walk into their training room at any time. So they stood, both blushing, but grinning at each other.
That night, their usual bedtime snuggles were accompanied by long languid kisses and gentle caresses of their shirtless bodies. It was enough; it was perfect. They knew they didn't have a lot of time before Alistair would have to prove himself in the tournament. They wanted to cherish it as long as they could.
The days between their first kiss and the tournament were filled with as many gentle touches and furtive glances as they felt they could away with. If they only had another week together... they were going to make the best of every single moment of it.
(Alistair 17, Cullen 16)
The tournament day came quicker than they thought possible. Soon, everyone was suiting up and preparing for the exercises. It wasn't going to just be sparing with multiple types of weapons; they were going to do group forms: intricate steps and sword motions that they practiced with on a daily basis. The Warden they were to perform for stood stoically off to the side as the recruits gathered to listen to the rules. The stranger's eyes seemed to follow Alistair's every move.
Alistair did very well during the tournament, but it wasn't enough to win. The honor of that went to a pompous ass named Kalvin. Alistair finished third, so it was enough to get him into an interview with the Warden. Only the top five were going to get to speak with him personally.
As Alistair entered the private room set aside for the interview, his eyes locked with the Warden's and recognition seemed to reflect in them. "Very nicely fought today, Alistair. You're parents would be very proud."
Even though Alistair knew he should be on his best behavior, he couldn't help but to scoff. "If I had any parents, I doubt that they'd care." Alistair took a breath to compose himself, then began again, "My apologies, ser. I have no family to speak of, the Chantry has been my home since I was old enough to join." He'd managed to calm his disdain, if only barely.
"So Sister Natalie informed me." Duncan didn't seem bothered at all by Alistair's outburst. "I have been well informed of your upbringing, and though you didn't win the tournament directly, it is you that I am most intrigued with recruiting. Are you attached to the idea of being a Templar?"
Alistair chuckled and shook his head. "If you've spoken to Sister Natalie, you already know the answer to that question."
"Very perceptive; a skill that will serve you well as a Warden." Duncan's smile was kind, almost familiar. "The choice is, however, yours. I will be staying here until the end of the week. I will give the conscription papers to your superiors if you wish to leave with me."
Alistair didn't blink twice before asking, "What will I need to bring with me?"
"You'll need only a pack and change of clothes. I have a bedroll and provisions for the journey ahead. I must warn you, it won't be an easy one."
"Like dedicating my life to the Chantry would be? At least with you, I'll actually have made the choice myself. But what about, Kalvin? He actually won the tournament, will we be taking him with us as well?"
"Would you trust, Kalvin, with your life? Do you trust him to watch your back?"
"Only if I wanted a dagger thrust into it."
"Exactly. We will not be taking anyone else with us when we leave."
"But they expect some sort of reward for winning the tournament."
Duncan grinned. "The Templar Order dictates that templars are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement. Their lives belong to the Maker and the path they have chosen. They should be content enough to know that they won and were acknowledged. I will spend time with each and pat them all on the head if they seem to need it. I have who I came for."
Alistair quirked his head to the side. "And if I didn't do so well in the tournament?"
"Then you would have needed to train that much harder once we left." Duncan winked and reclined back in his seat. "The choice was always going to be yours, Alistair." Alistair's heart ached at the prospect of leaving Cullen at the end of the week, but this felt right; this was where he needed to be; this was where he belonged.
There was still a chance that he'd be able to see Cullen again. This didn't have to be goodbye forever, after all. He didn't have faith in much, but he had faith in that.
(Alistair 17, Cullen 16)
Their last few days together were bittersweet. They lay together every night expressing their love for each other with tender words and gentle actions: holding, kissing, caressing, slowly memorizing each other's bodies, but still refusing to completely give in to their desires and make love. It seemed cruel to finally share something so intimate right before they were going to part company. Together, they vowed to wait.
The night before Alistair was to leave, Cullen arranged for them to have dinner in their room. With Sister Natalie's help, he set it up, complete with candles. He knew this was the last time they would see each other, possibly for a very long time, and he didn't want to waste a minute of it.
Alistair went down to turn in his gear and say goodbye to the few people he cared about. He was supposed to come back and retrieve Cullen when he was finished so they could go down to eat. But when he came in, he noticed that their room had been transformed. A small table sat in the middle of the room with candles on it. In the middle of the table sat a large tray with all of Alistair's favorite foods.
"Cullen?" Alistair looked around. "What is all this?"
Stepping out of the shadows, Cullen approached with his hand outstretched. "I hope you don't mind. I thought we could dine in tonight."
He smiled fondly at Alistair as they clasped hands before meeting in a chaste kiss. "Natalie helped me. She thought we might appreciate some time alone tonight."
Alistair walked over to the table in awe. "You did all this… for me?" Alistair's eyes were glistening with unshed tears as he wrapped his arms around Cullen and held him close. "Thank you, so much."
They settled into a quiet dinner; reminiscing about their time together and dreaming about their futures. It was beautiful, yet painful, knowing that their time was coming to an end. After they finished their meal, Cullen and Alistair gathered their blankets and snuggled up on the rug in front of the fire.
Cullen kissed Alistair softly. "I'm going to miss you, you know."
Alistair smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I'm leaving you. If I could take you with me..."
"You know I wouldn't go. All I've ever wanted was to be a Templar, the only thing that's even come close to touching that is how much I love you . And because I love you, I have to let you go. You were never meant to be here. You were never meant to live this life."
Alistair sniffled as he snuggled in closer. "I love you too, Cullen. I never wanted to be a Templar, but I never would have met you if I wasn't here; that is something that I will never regret. No matter where the Warden's take me, my heart will always be yours."
Beyond the Chantry Days
Summary:
Twelve years after Alistair leaves to join the Wardens,
the fates bring him back together with Cullen.
This is a continuation from the Prompt Fill: Chantry Days
A/N - I couldn't leave the boys at goodbye... I just couldn't.
(Twelve years later)
(Alistair 29, Cullen 28)
Cullen left yet another meeting that felt fruitless and misdirected. They'd been going around in circles, the budding Inquisition struggling to gain resources and members. They'd been mildly successful gaining agents and followers. People were terrified of the Templars and Mages fighting each other so openly with innocents getting caught in the crossfire. The Inquisition was the only voice of reason trying to find some sanity in this world surrounded in chaos, turmoil, and demon's raining down on Thedas.
With everything that Cullen endured and overcame, he was still barely holding on. His own struggle with lyrium addiction, his decision to reclaim his life and live for himself for once, kept him going, but his thoughts of a single Warden out there somewhere was what really gave him strength to carry on. Somewhere out there, Alistair was still fighting, and as long as he was still fighting, Cullen would fight too.
It'd been over twelve years since they parted ways in the chantry. They managed to exchange letters once or twice a year. It was enough to carry Cullen through the worst of his withdrawal symptoms-his rock, his strength, his Alistair.
This last meeting probably hit him harder than it should have. But the rumors were proving frighteningly true. The Wardens were disappearing and no one had been able to explain why. Even the loner, Blackwall, didn't have any answers for him. He'd sent out three times as many letters trying to track down Alistair lately, but hadn't yet heard anything back. His heart was sick, but he wasn't about to give up hope.
One day Varric walked in on one of their meetings and admitted to having a friend who might be able to help them. Much to Cassandra's chagrin, that friend turned out to be none other than Hawke. Garrett apparently knew of a lone Warden who'd been hiding out in Crestwood and would possibly be willing to aid them. The Inquisitor, Hawke, and a small force left to go retrieve the Warden.
Cullen couldn't afford to hope, so he boxed up his feelings and focused on his work. Leliana informed him when the Warden was retrieved and that they were on their way back, but otherwise said nothing else about the incoming visitor. Whether she knew who it was or not, she didn't find it necessary to say. More reason, not to get his hopes up. She knew Alistair and was well aware of how much they cared about each other.
Too busy with recalibrating the trebuchets and finalizing troop formations to meet the group formally when they arrived, Cullen sent his second in command to extend an invitation for the wayward Warden to join him in his office for an informal dinner. He had appearances to keep up and in truth, wished to speak to this Warden privately in hopes of finding out any information on Alistair.
Rylen returned with the confirmation and was then sent off to the kitchens to make sure enough food would be prepared for them and arranged for the delivery just after sunset.
True to form, Cullen then promptly lost track of time; so wrapped up in his paperwork, he didn't realize that the candles in his office had been lit and the table set for his coming visitor. He barely acknowledged the light knock on his office door when it came.
"Yes?"
Rylen opened the door, poking his head in briefly. "The Warden is here to see you, ser."
"Thank you, Rylen. Show them in."
The door opened and closed again with a soft click. Cullen thought he may have heard a sharp intake of breath, but he was too focused on his task to really pay it any mind. "Please have a seat, Warden. I will join you as soon as I finish these troop assignments."
There was no response, but a nondescript form sat in the chair across from his desk, instead of at the table where they were to dine. Finally finished with his chore, Cullen shuffled his papers and started to stack them neatly on the side of his desk. "My apologies, Warden, it seems there's always something to keep me busy around here. I would have come to meet you person-" Cullen finally looked up to find the last person he ever expected, sitting across from him, smirking… older, more weathered and careworn, but undeniably-Alistair.
"Hello, Cullen. Fancy meeting you in a place like this ."
In a daze, Cullen rounded the desk, his eyes misting over as he drank in his heart's desire. "Blessed Maker, I never thought I'd see you again!"
Alistair spent the recent months under a literal rock; stuck in a little cave in Crestwood while he tried to figure out why he was hearing the song calling to him so early. He missed exchanging letters with Cullen, but knew until he could figure out what was going on, that it was safer for both of them if he stayed hidden. Last he heard, Cullen was dealing with the fallout from his station in Kirkwall and trying to decide what to do about his current dependence on the chantry and his ever increasing doses of the Lyrium that they controlled him with.
He was thankful that he never had to suffer the withdrawal sickness or the later madness brought on by years of continual lyrium use. He was worried about Cullen, but knew that if anyone could make the hard choice, he could, he would survive, and he would succeed; being all the stronger for the hardship.
When Hawke contacted him regarding helping with the current breach in the sky and the apparent correlation with the disappearance of the rest of the Wardens, Alistair couldn't refuse. He didn't know much about the new group calling themselves the Inquisition, but he did know that the mages and Templars were running amok and the Inquisition was the only group willing to help; so they were at the very least, worth meeting with. Worst case scenario, he'd meet them and leave. He'd escaped from worse before, with fewer clothes.
Looking around the courtyard of the compound, a soldier approached him with a salute. "Mr. Warden, ser. My Commander regrets that he couldn't greet you personally, but wishes to know if you would join him for a private supper in his office when the sun descends?"
Alistair looked around and realized that this group was much larger than he'd previously realized. A semi-private dinner sounded much better than dining in the main hall with everyone else's eyes on him. After so much time alone, being with so many was a little unnerving. "Thank you, uh, lieutenant? I would be honored; if you could show me where to go, I would be happy to meet with your Commander this evening."
Rylen looked over his shoulder at the approaching spymaster and nodded toward Alistair. "It looks like they're coming to get you settled into your rooms. I will come get you and bring you over when it's time."
Getting caught up at the fact that his old friend Leliana was the Inquisition's spymaster, Alistair barely nodded in response. "That would be fine." He then found himself with his arms full of bard.
"Andraste bless me, Alistair, is that you?"
"It appears so, Leliana. It's been a long time, my friend. It's so good to see a familiar friendly face again. Wait. You are friendly, right?" He winked at her as her cheeks turned pink.
"Friendly yes, but alas, still not what your heart seeks." She gave him that same insufferable smirk he was so familiar with. "I have some rooms prepared for you, you must be exhausted from your travels. Would you care to dine with me this evening?"
Alistair looked briefly after where the lieutenant ran off. "Unfortunately, someone else has beat you to the invitation."
"Oh? A date? So soon after arriving? Why Alistair, you sly dog. Do I know them?"
"Well, I would hope so? I was informed that your Commander was too busy to come welcome me formally, so I've been invited to dine in their office this evening." Alistair shrugged noncommittally. "I don't suppose I have anything to worry about, do I? Does your Commander bite, Leliana?"
She looked surprised briefly, before schooling her features. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, my friend. Come, I'll show you to your rooms where you can freshen up and we can gossip about old times."
With that sneaky glint in her eye, he should have known that there was more to this meeting tonight than just a greeting with the Inquisition's Commander. But he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it could be. Resigning himself to find out later, he enjoyed his afternoon with his old friend.
At the appointed time, there was a soft knock on his door. Leliana lept up from the chair by the window and grinned, quickly attempting to fix Alistair's unruly hair, she kissed him lightly on the cheek before taking off, leaving Rylen standing dumbfounded at the door.
"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." Rylen managed to say. "You know our spymaster?"
"Leliana and I have known each other for many years, and though she requested my company for this evening's meal, I'd already accepted your offer for the Commander, so if you're ready-please, lead the way." Taking one last look into the looking glass, Alistair smoothed down his armor and followed Rylen out the door.
His guide led him quietly through the lesser walked battlements of the keep. The view was spectacular, but he couldn't spare the time to truly enjoy the view. He had an appointment to keep. As Rylen stopped before a large wooden door to a tower and knocked, Alistair stood patiently as he exchanged quiet words with the occupant.
With a curt nod, Rylen turned toward Alistair and pushed the door open, "The Commander will see you now, enjoy your supper, ser."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." Alistair stepped inside the door, closing it quietly behind him. Looking up, his breath was sucked out of him as he spotted Cullen sitting unaware behind his desk.
He must not know that I am the Warden anymore than I knew he was the Commander.
Regaining some of his composure, even though his heart was beating erratically, Alistair quietly took the seat in front of the desk and watched Cullen work. He looked good; better than the last time he saw him broken and bitter in the tower at Kinloch Hold. They barely had time to catch up then, but they parted with a stolen kiss and whispers of love between them. Time seemed to fly by after that, there was always one crisis or another that he was taking care of. But now… here they were.
Cullen's handsome face was more weathered and worn, there was a small scar bisecting his upper lip. Cullen tossed out a rote pleasantry, explaining that he'd be with him shortly. This was a role that fit him well. He was in his element and Alistair couldn't be more proud of the man he loved than how he felt right now, watching him.
With a smirk plastered firmly on his face, his breathing now calm and controlled-even though his heart was running its own race-Alistair waited, memorizing every new line and wrinkle.
Maker, I missed him so much.
As Cullen finished his work and finally looked up to meet his eyes, he watched with awe and wonder as Cullen seemed to lose his current train of thought. His mouth hung open and his eyes misted over as he glided around the desk and fell to his knees in front of Alistair's chair. Before he knew it, he too was on his knees, his arms wrapped tightly around Cullen as they both cried with relief and reconnection.
Feeling Cullen's lips on his neck and then his cheek, Alistair reached up, cupped his face, and finally tasted the lips he'd been dreaming about for so long. The song finally silent, Cullen overwhelmed all of his senses. This was right, this was where he was meant to be.
Names were whispered reverently between them. More kisses were exchanged before they pulled apart. Wiping tears from each other's cheeks, faint smiles graced their lips.
Cullen realized that the cold hard floor probably wasn't the most comfortable place for both of them. Laughing, he helped him to his feet, then pulled Alistair into another tight hug. "I've been praying that you were ok. When I heard that all the Wardens disappeared, I feared the worst."
Alistair dipped his head, "I'm sorry I didn't try to contact you. After Kirkwall, I didn't know where to find you and then I was looking for them too . " Alistair glanced over at the dinner prepared for him. "I don't suppose that dinner invitation still stands now that you know it's me and not just some Warden that you have to make nice with?"
"Of course, where are my manners? You must be famished! We can catch up while we eat."
Cullen changed the place settings so they were sitting side by side instead of across from each other at the table. They talked for over an hour as they ate. When they finished off the last of their meal, Cullen leaned over and brushed his lips over Alistair's cheek, right next to his ear. "I'm assuming they've set you up with your own quarters here?"
"They did."
"Are they to your liking?"
"They are much more comfortable than the cave I've been staying in. However, if you have a better offer, I wouldn't be opposed. I always did sleep better next to you."
Cullen's smile was soft as he cupped Alistair's cheek, "And what if… I want more?"
If Alistair's heart was beating fast before, it was racing now. "Cullen, are you sure? I… still have never. I've been…"
"...saving myself for you." Cullen finished Alistair's thought, his own cheeks pink with the confession. "Alistair, there's only ever been you for me. And yes, I think we've waited long enough. If I've learned anything from this life, it's that tomorrow is never guaranteed. I want you. Only you. Now and forever."
With tears in his eyes, Alistair leaned into Cullen's touch, pressing their lips together. The gentle softness of their earlier kisses quickly heating to frantic intensity. "Cullen?"
"Hmmm?"
"Where is your room? Mine is clear across the keep from here."
Cullen grinned then pointed to the ladder in his office.
"Why are we still down here then?"
Cullen stood, sweeping Alistair up with him. He pulled him over to the ladder and followed him up. Joining Alistair at the top, Cullen followed his gaze.
"Really? Cullen. You're the Commander of the Inquisition's forces and you still have a giant hole in the ceiling of your room?"
Cullen shrugged sheepishly. "I've thought of requisitioning it to be fixed, but there was so much damage to the keep when we first moved in, that it just never seemed urgent enough to make a priority."
"So, you won't mind my cold feet pressed up against you tonight?"
"It's been too long since I've had your anything pressed up against me. I'll take what I can get." Cullen wrapped his arms around Alistair and pulled him to his chest. "Maker, how I've missed you."
Together they began to slowly remove each other's armor. Taking their time, re-memorizing every contour with their lips and hands as each piece was slowly peeled away. Their kisses were reverent, loving; filled with hope, desire, and purpose.
As the last item of clothing fell to the floor, Cullen took Alistair's hand and lead him to the bed.
They took their time with each other; savoring the moment they'd both dreamed about for over a decade. Neither one expected to be reunited in such a joyous way. Neither one wanted this night to end. But, as always, time moves on; and end it did; only to be met with a new day, all the brighter for having someone you love by your side to share it with.