faderift | [OPEN]

WHO: Gavin, Peter, and OPEN~
WHAT: Peter is trying to teach Gavin to read, and Gavin is getting distracted by literally everything, and everyone.
WHEN: A few times, as the lessons are semi-regular, in the days following the wake.
WHERE: in the weird little library in the basement
NOTES: Ridiculous hijinks

He was doing his best. He really was. But Gavin had the attention span of a goldfish, and trying to sit still for long periods focusing on something he found difficult was worse.

He'd never really figured out how to read. Every time he tried the runes would seem to move around on their own, or flip over, and it was extremely frustrating. Peter, however, was absolutely determined that Gavin should learn to read properly and stop defacing the community bulletin boards with his scribbled drawings.

They'd managed to scramble a few books together for the purpose, and some sheets of parchment, and Gavin was working on drawing a surprisingly well rendered butt as Peter was pulling out the next text to start with.

As soon as Gavin happened to see anyone wandering by, he called out and waved them over.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Only a few days. Many more in sight."

Many, many more. He can't really be upset at it, wasn't as though Peter had much else on his pressing schedule other than exploring the castle and learning how to not murder plants. But, still. He'd have to maybe try a day without parchment. Just reading, no writing or drawing.

"Were you in the Tourney?"

He looks at both of them as he asks it, not really sure how or why that may happen. But he never did know how things worked beyond the tower walls.

"Yes!" Gavin replied immediately, gesturing for Maxwell to take a seat because Gavin had got his cue for a Story Time and now everyone had to listen.

"It is a harrowing and heroic tale," Gavin said, the grin spreading across his lips as he shot a look at Maxwell. "Would you like me to tell it to you?"

Maxwell's eyebrows lifted, mouth cocking into an amused smile. "'Harrowing and heroic?'" he echoed.

Setting the book down on the table, he took the offered seat.

"I think you should, since apparently my memory's a bit fuzzy."

Gavin chuckled, the very ends of his ears tinting slightly, but he arranged himself into a better position, one foot on the floor, the other on his chair, and he leaned over the table towards them both.

"Now this story began - three? No - four years ago, in the heart of the Free Marches. From far and wide the people came, gathering on their yearly pilgrimage to take in the feat of arms and honour that we know as the Grand Tourney. In the heart of this throng? An elf - certainly not invited, and definitely unwelcome, wishing only to partake in the glory that was about to behold itself to him. Like a thief, he'd stolen into the tourney grounds, in the dark of night, with only the moon to guide him. He hid as the grand parades of humans walked past - for three days! - as they journeyed there. He thought he was safe - for even uninvited, surely he'd go unnoticed in a throng such as this?"

"Alas!" He slammed his hand down on the table and glared at Peter. "He was deadly wrong. He had been minding his own business, most certainly not thieving, and suddenly he was surrounded! Twenty armed brutes, giants of men, had seen their prey and descended upon it. Our elven hero was surrounded!"

This was what they were doing now. And Peter could go with that. Watching Gavin story telling was...well, telling. Gavin was a good story teller. And he could use reading and writing, for learning new stories and putting his down on paper. Both would be beneficial. It was just take time.

But considering the emphasis on certainly not thieving and how much Gavin made him think of Sirius, Peter could only look at Maxwell inquisitively.

"How much did he steal?"

Maxwell's arms had folded over his chest, a hand lifted up against his mouth to try - and fail - to hide the grin that pulled wide as Gavin went on. At Peter's question, he glanced over, gesturing lightly with the same hand.

"At that moment? Nothing. After..." he trailed with an amused flash in his eyes, hand tipping slightly.

"He wasn't about to give up!" Gavin cried, ignoring the interruption though his grin had widened. "He was ready to fight, though it be to his certain death - when what should appear? A savior! A beam of light and there he was - handsome as the first rays of summer sun after a bleak winter, with a jaw like chiseled marble and--" Oops, he'd gotten carried away and forgotten that Maxwell was, well, actually present, so he blushed faintly and then just continued on as if nothing had happened.

"The crowd grew quiet, the rumbles of their discontent stirring the air, when finally, they attacked! The elf cried - 'Watch out!' but he didn't need to, for his savior had already taken the end of his bow to the first attacker's forehead, downing him in one swift motion. Crack! Down went the second. Thud! Down went the third. The cowards grew fearful, and after yelling some obscenities, finally ran away. The noble savior paused, looking down at the elf who had been thrown to the ground in the fray, and offered his hand. 'Bastards, all of them,' he said, his voice low like distant thunder--"

Peter couldn't help but look a little...not exactly surprised, but somewhat uncertain what was happening here. Gavin told stories, certainly, but there were...well. A lot of adjectives in this one. Like any decent Inquisition member, Peter had read Hard in Hightown, and some of the language was feeling a little reminiscent.

"...and then the clouds parted and doves crooned?"

Maxwell's hand was still up over his mouth, though less to hide a grin then, than a blush, creeping up from his throat. He knew Gavin exaggerated and likely talked about all the subjects of his stories that way, but he couldn't help the way his chest warmed.

Then Gavin stumbled, and flushed, and Maxwell's heart squeezing under his ribs. Foolishly, but helplessly.

"I don't recall any doves," Maxwell said, clearing his throat. "But there was a horse."

"There was a horse," Gavin agreed with a nod. "And then we went and shot a bunch of people in the tourney and it was very fun," he finished up quickly, too embarrassed now to actually finish the story as he'd been telling it.

"The point is - Wait, what was my point..."

[OPEN]

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