My friends say, are you gonna be sad?

[dreadinquisitor]

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.

Comments

[universal_charm]

"Oh, now, come on. I like to think I would put up a good enough fight, even though I might be in need of new trousers," he laughed, giving Maxwell a friendly shove. "I think I have fought well, actually. And I've been practicing my shooting." He grinned at him, miming the draw, fingers kissing his cheek.

[dreadinquisitor]

"Have you now?" Maxwell grinned, eyebrows arching as he rocked with the shove. "Perhaps I'll have to increase the challenge next lesson, then."

[universal_charm]

"Hah, I've never shied away from a challenge," he boasted. "I'm actually managing to hit targets now, as it happens."

[dreadinquisitor]

"Then it's time to start them moving, isn't it?" Maxwell replied without missing a beat.

Slowly, of course, but moving as most targets Kirk was likely to have was unlikely to be so helpful as to stand still.

He blew on his sketch to dry the wettest parts, and then flipped to the back of his journal and began to stretch out a note to himself.

[universal_charm]

"Don't expect a sterling performance," he warned. "I say I can hit targets, but they've all been stationary. It really is quite different my phaser..." he muttered.

"You know, I probably owe you for some of my lessons by now. Any requests?"

[dreadinquisitor]

"Everyone starts somewhere," Maxwell replied easily, waving lightly with one hand as he finished up a supply list. Then, looking up, he shook his head and smiled gently. "I'm good for the moment, but if that changes, I'll let you know."

[universal_charm]

"You sure? I feel kind of bad, getting the lessons for free," he said.