faderift | Now I'm gonna reap what I sow

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Now I'm gonna reap what I sow

WHO: Maxwell Trevean and Gavin Ashara; Gavin Ashara and Pel Ashara
WHAT: Maxwell and Gavin crush awkwardly, Gavin's ex-fiance wanders in. Dun dun duuuun.
WHEN: Forward dated slightly to just before the Mire signups.
WHERE: Battlements
NOTES: All the sadz. Maybe some language? Will updated if needed.

Walking the battlements, Maxwell was on patrol. Watching the dark night sky and the cold, moonlit horizon for rippling wings or marching shadows. In reality the only he'd seen were shining stars and the occasional animal - foxes and rabbits, kiting across the ground.

Humming to himself, a old Marcher battle hymn, he leaned against the stone and chased a familiar constellation with his eyes.

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Gavin was, in layman's terms, a wreck. But he'd made enough mistakes that night, to just let this one hang. By the time he started his way back, it was the end of that shift - the guards were changing.

He waited at the bottom of the stairs that he knew Maxwell had to come down. He owed an apology, at least, an explanation. Something.

Something that would make him feel less like he was just creating a second open wound, for himself.

He wasn't first down the stairs, nor second. He was, actually, one of the last to appear on the staircase - torn as he was, between wanting to stay on duty, where he had something do, and drowning himself in a tankard in the tavern, or maybe just, returning to his bedroll to slip into the black of sleep. Anything, but being along with his thoughts.

When he looked up, and spotted Gavin, waiting at the bottom, just off the shadows of the ramparts, he paused. Had he come to tell him what a mistake it had been? How it didn't mean anything?

He started down again, heart wrenching even as he willed it to steel, reminding himself that it was what it was and that he'd always known the truth. The redness ringing Gavin's eyes was just more evidence.

Gavin had never been good with difficulty. And this - waiting for Maxwell to walk down the stairs to pronounce judgment upon him - was proving to be so difficult that he almost didn't know what to do with himself. But he stood. Somehow, he stood. He would go and let his legs turn to jelly, later.

He didn't say anything, at first, waiting for the other guards to walk away as Maxwell came to the bottom stair, and Gavin rung his hands. He didn't even know what he needed to say, just knew he needed to say something. Anything. But looking at Maxwell now was making the words very, very hard, compared to how they'd been in his head.

He's better off without you, his head reminded him, but he couldn't bring himself to voice it. A stronger man would have. But Gavin was weak, and a coward.

"Hello," he managed to say, which was incredibly pathetic.

Maxwell stopped beside him, but was silent for a moment, as if waiting to see whether Gavin was going to follow the greeting with anything or not. Then, accepting that he wasn't, and wondering silently if he just planned to pretend nothing had happened, he nodded.

"Evening," he murmured, gaze glancing over Gavin's face, lingering on the red fatigue of his eyes. "...Is there--"

He started, broke off, and sighed, before trying again.

"I'm... sorry if I caused any trouble."

Creators, and now Maxwell was blaming himself. Gavin's face fell as he shook his head.

"No, I... No, you did nothing wrong. I..." The words stuck in his throat and he couldn't manage to grind them out. So instead, he found different ones, his head bowing until his chin touched his chest. "I'm sorry, Maxwell. I can't seem to do anything but hurt everyone, lately."

He didn't blame himself entirely for it, but he couldn't deny that he'd known that Gavin had something here, before he'd come along, and still he'd lingered. Wanting. Foolishly.

Pathetically hoping for something he'd thought he'd felt four years ago.

"They always say it'll be easy, but it never is," he said softly, toe of his boot digging into the crumbled stone beside the stairs. "...May I... may I ask who she is?"

He pulled in a breath. "Pel. She's the - the first of our clan." He turned his head, looking away. "... Years ago, we - were supposed to be bonded, and I ran. And sort of... never stopped running."

His throat closed up, but he cleared it.

"I've never been good, at - at this sort of thing."

Maxwell couldn't say what he'd expected exactly, before Gavin explained, but an ex-fiance definitely hadn't been it. That added quite a bit of context: not just to the scene on the battlements earlier, but to their time together, before. What were the odds that this was the thing had spoken of then? That it was her? Them.

"I see."

Maker, he was an even bigger fool than he thought. Of course, Gavin hadn't wanted him then.

"...It's alright," he said quietly. "It would be worse, I think, if you were."

However miserable he had expected this conversation to be, it felt even worse. Maxwell's blank, quiet replies made Gavin shrink further into himself. He almost would have preferred that Maxwell yell at him, or hit him, if only to justify how miserable he felt.

Creators, but he was an idiot. He couldn't talk to Pel, and now he couldn't talk to Maxwell, even though he knew he needed to do both. Even though he knew was sealing his own fate in the meantime.

"Don't--" The word choked him and he looked even more miserable than before. "Please don't give up on me," He finally said, and the pathetic way it sounded made his own hands tremble. "I'm sorry, and I-- I'm sure I'll-- I'll keep being sorry, but please don't give up on me."

Maxwell's head kicked up slightly, his brow twitching, mouth turning turning down.

"Give up on you?" he echoed, looking over at Gavin. "Why would I do that? ...So it's different than I--" His shoulders lifted and fell again in a heavy shrug. "You're still important to me."

His face screwed up, not at all handsomely, the expression painful and twisting. It was entirely unfair, to Maxwell to be kind, even now.

"You're -- You've always been important to me, Maxwell," He said in a small voice, the admission as terrifying as it was to finally turn his eyes up and meet Maxwell's. There was more that he wanted to say, some of them pleas and some of them dire warnings, but the words died there on his tongue.

"... One day, I'll be better," He said, quietly. A promise, to them both.

Maxwell's frown deepened, watching Gavin's face wrench. He'd meant that kindly, hopefully comfortingly - letting Gavin know he wasn't asking for anything, that he was just happy to still have his friend... But the elf looked like he'd over him poisoned ale.

And the soft promise was a direct contradiction.

He wasn't certain how to take it, other than it being very clear that moment on the battlements probably never should have happened.

"I'm sure it will be alright, Gavin," he said softly, after a moment. "All anyone can do is... take it one day at a time."

He had nothing to say to that, but that wasn't a surprise. He'd come to - to what? Beg Maxwell's forgiveness? Fix what he'd broken? Try to pretend that nothing had happened, that they could just go on like they'd always been?

To come and beg for the future he'd seen that tiny glimpse of and then ruined again a half a moment later?

None of them he had any right to do. His head was so muddled and he was so upset that even if he knew what he had been trying to do, he doubted he could do it. All he knew was that he could not bear for someone else to be upset, because of him. And Maxwell being so kind only made it worse, somehow.

So he didn't say anything, he just stepped forward suddenly, wrapping his arms around Maxwell's torso and burying his face in the man's shoulder to hug him tightly.

It surprised him, and for a moment, he was stiff and tense under Gavin's arms, but slowly, with a hard swallow the elf couldn't see, he relaxed. Gently he moved his arm and slipped it around Gavin in turn, holding him back.

"It's alright, Gavin," he murmured again. "It's alright."

It only made him feel worse, how kind Maxwell was, even as he tightened his hug and then abruptly pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

"I'll be better," He promised him, though he couldn't meet his gaze. "Just don't give up on me and I'll-- I'll be better."

He couldn't stay any longer, however, couldn't bear to, but hopefully Maxwell understood-- well, something. Hopefully he understood something, better than Gavin did. He forced a grin to his lips, completely unfelt and at odds with his red-rimmed eyes, but as reassuring as he could make it. "I should... let you sleep."

That was less surprising, by now. Four years, a few hours, now... it's how it always seemed to end. Someday, probably, his heart wouldn't give such a twist when it happened.

"Yeah," he murmured, arm dropping back to his side. "I promised to help built a fountain in the garden in the morning."

He brushed at his hair, glanced at Gavin, then away.

"Goodnight."

It was so innocuous, so innocent, that it surprised him with the force of how much it hurt, to watch Maxwell's eyes turn. To hear the dismissal, in his voice. His ears drooped, slightly, the smile faltering.

"Ah- right. Goodnight, Maxwell," he said, his voice tight, giving another smile he didn't feel before turning away. Only letting his face fall as far as his heart had once he was out of sight.

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Now I'm gonna reap what I sow

Even later

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