ᴀʟᴛᴜs, ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇʀ, ᴍᴀɢɪsᴛᴇʀ (tevene) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-05-02 12:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: cullen rutherford, ₴ inactive: dorian pavus |
Cullen wanted a stabby dinner and so a stabby dinner Cullen would get - there was nothing Dorian wouldn’t do for him (well, very few things could be tacked onto that list) and, honestly, after the day they’d had with the creepy-crawlies who weren’t clamoring for pizza, but infesting Skyhold for reasons not having to do with food left out in the open, whatever dinner Cullen desired was well-deserved anyway. Especially since Dorian didn’t have to cook. Surprisingly, he even liked to cook - he enjoyed preparing breakfast for himself and Eleanor, whenever she slept over and Marina slept in. That hadn’t happened in quite some time but it had been fun - he loved experimenting with new spices and new recipes to bring culinary visions to life; it was relaxing, in a sense, and a lot like magic. Like crafting a spell, learning something by challenging his great big brain. Tonight, however, he just wanted to sit in a place that did halal food right, a little dive place, walls plastered with fun photographs and murals, but with hearty portions and perfect spices - chicken and lamb over rice, plus some naan, or those delicious kebabs. The sauces themselves were a religious experience - and Dorian didn’t have a lot of those. He was content to be crammed into a corner, people watching at a small, romantic table for two (or he thought it was romantic), plates before them as he debated where to jump into first. “They’re all gone, yes?” he asked about the odd metal dragonflies and the...snakes. No, no, no to snakes in breakfast foods - his sympathies to Max (even if ‘Pop Tarts’ didn’t count as much of a breakfast food). “I’d hate to be in the middle of seducing you and then roll over and squash something that would kill the mood.” “Kill the mood and probably leave a truly bizarre bruise,” Cullen replied with a snort. A clockwork infestation, of all the ridiculous things! “But yes, I believe we’ve gotten them all. Mei’s last scan came out clear, and I think she and Messere Talis boxed up enough of the things to keep them entertained for quite some time.” He went for the chicken kabob first–those were always best before they had an opportunity to dry out, while lamb could make an acceptable snack later if they had too much. While there were many things that Cullen had never managed to get used to in Tevinter, he’d taken quite readily to the food. Kabobs and roasted spiced vegetables and rice and flatbreads were a joy that could almost make up for having to act like he wasn’t married in public. (All right, not really, but they were still very good.) Oh, good - as long as someone was entertained by the sheer ridiculousness of clockwork-inspired vermin invading Skyhold. And why was it only Skyhold? That didn’t happen to be the only fuck off castle in the forest, so Dorian was confused as to why it had been selected for this grand honor. Then again, there was likely no parsing out something such as this - Vallo would do whatever Vallo wanted to do, and Dorian was merely along for the ride. He had to be. He’d tried to get off (or wanted to) and there was no disappearing - so apparently for the time being he was stuck and, to be quite honest, he was glad for it these days. Largely due to the man sitting across from him (such an attractive man, was he not?). Chicken was what Dorian selected as well - and he had plenty of sauce to dip his flatbread into, but first took a bite off the stick since that was why they were here. It did remind him of home. Spice trade was always a fun sort of thing - whenever they could get cinnamon, that was a delight too. “I will never understand this place,” he huffed. “But at least we’re not bored. Well, occasionally - but not very often. Are you happy here?” he asked, perhaps out of the blue. Yet it seemed important. “I am.” Cullen could say that much without hesitation. It was a little funny that he was, enough to make Cullen smile as he looked over the naan at Dorian. “I said once that I’d be happy anywhere with you, though at the time I didn’t think it would include anywhere outside Thedas completely. It turns out I was right, though. Strange though this place is, you’re here, so it’s all right–and I appreciate getting to be with you somewhere that I’m not constantly watching for assassins.” “How little we knew, about what existed outside of Thedas,” Dorian chuckled throatily. It was difficult to fathom - scientists and scholars barely contemplated the idea of space, the glittering stars-on-black-velvet and beyond, let alone other universes. He’d dabbled in time travel but it was a brief and dangerous sort of thing - nothing like this. Nothing like meeting another Cullen, a husband, and falling for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I am happy as well,” he added, in case that was a question - he didn’t think it was. Dorian wasn’t the type to suffer in silence, not anymore. Not after everything he’d been through and how tired he was of being expected to do just that, during his younger years where he lacked political ambition. He couldn’t say he had any now but he also wasn’t going to be screaming on the inside - there was no need, and life was too short. “Though I was thinking it feels...strange, a bit. To not be living together fully.” They had sleepovers, of course. Dorian stayed at Skyhold, something he’d been doing more and more - but he maintained his residence with Marina and actually liked living with her even if she’d been acting odd lately and he was concerned. It was perhaps time to move on to something else, however - a natural progression. Cullen’s expression brightened immediately. He’d missed living with Dorian terribly; for a few years now, home had been the only place they could truly relax, and he longed for the easy domesticity of it. The only reason he hadn’t said as much was that since discovering the differences in their timelines, Cullen had been careful not to push too hard and scare Dorian off. Having been through courting Dorian before, he knew very well Dorian’s need to keep some distance until he felt safe to do otherwise, and that it could take some time. Cullen had been willing to wait as long as it took, but having that time come sooner than expected was a joyous occasion. “Would you be willing to join me at Skyhold on a more permanent basis?” Cullen asked. “I’d dearly love to have you there.” It was like Cullen read his mind, and Dorian couldn’t help but laugh fondly. “Yes,” he responded right away, reaching across the table to interrupt the flow of lamb kebab consumption by briefly placing his hand over Cullen’s. “I would love to be back there - I lived there before, of course. I just haven’t been ready to return but now, with you, I would like to.” In fact, it almost would be like old times - with Max, and a bunch of animals; maybe the players were different but there were still people there the occupants cared about. They cared about each other and that was the important thing. “I’d also like to get to know the teenager Max seems to have taken under his wing,” Dorian added with a grin. Never would he consider himself fatherly material, but he made a good uncle - so there was at least that. “I worry about Marina though,” a frown flickered upon his expression. “She’s not taking Eleanor’s reappearance very well.” Clearly she was doing something to fuck with her own emotions and Dorian didn’t like it - he tried not to be judgmental about her use of blood magic, since the coven was filled with good people. But still. Whatever she was currently using it for, it wasn’t helping. “Am I a terrible friend to consider leaving?” “A terrible friend?” Cullen’s brow furrowed at the idea of it. Dorian was a wonderful friend, a cut above most. He’d thought so long before they got romantically involved. “Certainly not. If you were to run off to domestic bliss and forget she existed, then you would be a terrible friend, but I can’t imagine you doing that. I would be shocked if you didn’t continue turning up whenever you liked to either drag her into a distraction or badger her into dealing with her feelings.” Well, yes, Dorian would certainly be doing both of those things - it was written in his DNA at this point, when it came to Marina. He liked to think that he had a certain way about him too - sometimes she listened to him, sometimes she didn’t, but she had gotten a lot better about communicating and actually extending trust to him; they were best friends, even if it took her awhile to unfurl those iron bars on the gate, to blossom like a steely flower, and let him in. “I plan to continue with the badgering especially,” he chuckled, going for some lamb this time - so pastoral, so delicious; the spices made it extra delicious too, though he would hog all of the lamb. Love was about sharing - and speaking of that, he ought to be more forthright about his own feelings, but. That would come. He was only one glass of Chardonnay in, this evening, at their favored hole-in-the-wall stabby dinner place (and honestly Dorian was surprised it wasn’t boxed wine). “Then it’s official - I’ll talk to her, and begin moving my things over,” he decided. Him and Marina had spoken briefly about it before, when Dorian mentioned he’d see what Cullen wanted - she also said she’d portal his shit outside for him but not actually to Skyhold. Maybe he could convince her to take that extra step. “I think it will be good for me and you. I’d rather be together when annoying things happen anyway.” “I would, too. I didn’t want to push you into it before you felt ready, but I’m glad you do now,” Cullen replied. “Do you want to stay in the tower and keep your workspace in the library, or should we go hunting for other rooms?” With Skyhold in its present state and limited occupants, there were plenty of rooms to choose from. It would still be different from their home in Minrathous, but significantly less crowded than Cullen’s bachelor quarters above his office. “I’m ready - I love you, I’m ready,” Dorian insisted and oop, there we go. The big L word - something he hadn’t said in a Very Long Time, and there were occasions where he thought back to his past and everything he’d been through and all those sticky brambles and thorns that had pricked him; Thedas, Tevinter especially, didn’t make it easy to find love but he had once and he would again. He did. He always had love to give - an inherently compassionate person, that was never the issue. It was just actually expressing it that sometimes tripped him up. But he felt right about it now - they were meant to be together, he and Cullen. “But, ah - “ Now to just act like he hadn’t word vomited all over their kebabs. “I would like to keep my workspace in the library. It’s always held great appeal for me.” The wingback chair especially - that thing was a relic. “For us, yes - perhaps we could redo a room that will suit both of our tastes? Work on it together.” It would be a nice couples project. “I would enjoy that,” Cullen warmly replied, completely untroubled by any of what Dorian had said in either content or quantity. “With no Orlesian nobility in and out, Skyhold has plenty of guest suites we could seize for ourselves. Perhaps we poke around tomorrow afternoon and see what might suit? My only request is something with good windows.” The phrase Orlesian nobility had Dorian’s nose crinkling - he tried to keep an open mind when it came to the various Thedosian nations (because Maker knew he always appreciated when others did about Tevinter, and listen to what he had to say about what reforms he touted) but still. He’d seen a lot of the ugly side of Orlais, of their militaristic tendencies - even an Exalted March or two courtesy of the Chantry couldn’t topple a weakened Minrathous, however, so they had given that up but there was no lost love there. Needless to say, he was glad that Orlesian nobles wouldn’t be scurrying about - pass. A hard one. “I’d almost rather have the clockwork insects than the nobles,” he spoke cheerfully, then lifted his wine again. “But your requirements have been noted and shouldn’t be difficult to grant. Now, tell me, my darling - what constitutes a bad window?” Dorian, being a cheeky shit - surely you jest. “Too narrow, too high or low on the wall, or unable to be opened to move air through.” Cullen, answering a cheeky shit with absolute seriousness? Shocking. He didn’t like feeling confined. He didn’t need an open roof anymore, but Cullen would have his windows. Big ones, which opened, and which let in a good amount of sunlight and air, and which Dorian could put whatever kind of curtains he wanted on. Ideally, windows that would put the sun in the right place to wake Cullen at a reasonable time in the morning. (He’d used an alarm to wake twice since coming to Vallo and had come to the conclusion that they were torture devices not meant for human use.) Of course he was serious. Of course he was. Dorian huffed a fond little laugh, watching Cullen with those gray eyes, swollen storm clouds, and he couldn’t help but be both amused and endeared. “Fair, then,” he responded, taking a napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth and make sure he didn’t have a mess on fingers - kebabs were delicious but they were kind of saucy (drippy) and had a tendency to get everywhere, sticks be damned. “I will ensure you have every window you desire and that it’s to your satisfaction.” He didn’t want Cullen feeling confined either - Dorian wasn’t much for claustrophobia himself, and he was something of a free spirit anyway. They would make this work no matter what. “Now, another important question - what’s it going to be for dessert? Me, or something sweet?” He wasn’t really all that sweet. “You’re ridiculous,” Cullen informed him, but he was smiling. Dorian was sweeter than he liked to pretend–or kind, at least, if a bit prickly. Regardless of how it was defined, Cullen loved him exactly as he was. “And I don’t see why I couldn’t have both. Ice cream on the way home, you when I get there?” Ice cream, yes - surely there had to be someplace to stop and get such a delight. They were in the city, after all, and the waypoints were helpfully accessible - there would be no long trips, uphill in the snow both ways, and while he wasn’t always a sweets fan (though Dorian was particularly fond of candied dates and also chocolate, specifically, Beketh’s chocolate which tended to run on the rich and decadent side) he had to admit that Cullen’s suggestion was sound. “Perfect,” he agreed cheerily, nudging his very favorite husband under the table. “Let me pay the check and then we’ll be on our way.” He’d even forgive Cullen if he got some terrible flavor like mint chocolate chip - because kissing the person you loved was required, even if they just ate toothpaste with their dessert. Ah, true love. |