faderift | My friends say, are you gonna be sad?

WHO: Character(s) Maxwell Trevean and You
WHAT: Kingsway Catchall
WHEN: Over Kingsway
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: Mention of death (Kain's)

He'd warned Gavin. He'd given the elf a key. So now it was time to actually get on with installing an official lock on the cubbiehole Maxwell called a bedroom.

On his knees on the floor, he worked behind the door, tools tapping and scrapping, humming softly to himself as he set the lock. Hopefully, anyone stopping to see him would knock first, lest he catch it opening with his face....

~.~

Maxwell could have delegated the job of checking and refilling the bird feeder he'd installed to someone else, but he found he enjoyed the simple task. It wasn't just a favor to Kain (and then, later, in honor of his memory) - other birds had come to flock about it too - it was an easy excuse to get out and into the sunshine whenever the keep's walls started to feel a little too dark and heavy.

Besides, it was in sight off both the halla and griffon pens, so he could watch either without actually getting too close. And if he decided to plop down and do some sketching, well, at least he'd gotten something productive done.

~.~

It snuck up on him.

It wasn't until he was dating an official missive, that he realized how deep they were into Kingsway. How close it actually was to his birthday. How it would be his first birthday alone.

Away from home. Away from his parents.

It wasn't that it ever been an outrageously grand affair - family, perhaps some friends of said, all the appropriate movers and shakers - but privately there had always been a spectacle.

A lot of sighing. A lot of passive-aggression. A new ultimatum every year as his gift.

For a long moment he sat silently, blinking ahead, processing what it would mean to be at Skyhold (or anywhere with the Inquisition as opposed to home) on the 25th. Then he smiled. Small, and then wider, grinning brightly down at the letter and re-dipping his quill in the well with a happy little clink.

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"Maybe it'll be you, then," he said, jostling her elbow lightly with his own, teasing gently. "Korrin, Hero of our Age."

That gets a snort and an eyeroll from her, as she nudges him back lightly in turn. "Yeah, and maybe they'll want me as their new Divine, too. I have a feeling that if anyone's going to count for that, it'll be the people with those shards in their hands. I'm just a mage, but closing a rift? Well. That's something only a very few can manage."

"Ah ah," he teased, wagging a finger. "If you get to be Hero, I call Divine. Fair's fair."

He struck a pose, hefting the seed bag to serve as a hat.

"I could pull it off."

Okay, that gets her to laugh. "A male Divine, down south? Now that would be scandalous. You cut a pretty regal pose, though, I'll give you that."

"The real question is whether my mother would die from the scandal of it all, or from the shock of me amounting to something."

He looked thoughtful, just for a moment, weighing whether it might be worth it... then he smiled again, shaking his head and catching the seed bag as it slipped off.

"Lovely woman." Korrin snorts in contempt, unable to understand the nobility's penchant for treating their children like pawns. And really, she doesn't want to understand. "You could have mine, but you'd have to deal with rib-bruising hugs and a grandmother who insists on overstuffing you with as much spicy food as she can get away with?"

Maxwell snorted a low sound, something torn between a laugh and a sigh.

"You know, I don't think my mother has ever hugged me?" He squinted, sifting through a lifetime of memories. "Maybe when... no..."

No, that had been his Nanny.

He waved it off.

"I'll tell you what, you ever want to pass one off, just let me know."

Maxwell's mother should just be eternally grateful that she isn't within punching distance of Korrin. Nothing she's heard about this woman has made her want to hold back, at all. Even if it got her in trouble, and it no doubt would, it might be worth it just for the look on her smug noble face.

Her jaw clenching as her temper rises, Korrin's expression softens when she glances back over to Maxwell. "Next time the Inquisition sends us north, come with me. Between Wycome and Rivain, you'll have more of those memories than you'll know what to do with."

He smiled warmly, and his head ducked slightly as he tried to hide how her casual offer really quite touched him.

"I'll be there with bells on. And I'll work extra hard on those Qunlat lessons, so I don't embarrass myself."

My friends say, are you gonna be sad?

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