faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Gavin and OPEN
WHAT: After returning to the Mire, Gavin goes around delivering any mail that had arrived at Skyhold for people.
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Fallow Mire
NOTES: There's probably going to be some shippy shit with him and Maxwell sorry not sorry

Open.

Gavin has two satchels slung over his shoulder, full of mail, humming as he walked through the camp. For the letters whose recipients he knew by name, he simply went directly to them with a smile and a wave, to hand them their post. It wasn't until they'd all gotten their letters that Gavin started looking through the ones with unfamiliar names.

He frowned - because reading was hard - and had to spend several minutes mouthing out each name, or asking someone else to read it for him, before calling out for the person in question and just sort of hoping they, or someone that knew them, would hear him.

For Maxwell.

"Maxwell! Got something for you," Gavin called as he jogged up to the man, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled out the scroll. The seal had already been broken - by Leliana's spies, of course - but they'd done a pretty good job of putting it back together.

"Letter came for you, at Skyhold."

For Varric.

Of the two satchels, one, in its entirety, was for Varric. So he left the dwarf for last, and went to find him once the rest of the deliveries were finished, before holding the entire bag out to him.

"Here, you ah - you got a lot of mail. They asked me to bring it back for you, from Skyhold."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No mail is good mail, in his opinion. It means he's doing something right, and he certainly didn't expect to hear his pseudonym to be called.

But it earns his attention and he glances up from his book, frowning.

The letter in Gavin's hand contains a wax seal on it, the imprint of a krakken on it. Naturally, Leliana's people probably did have a look at it first, but there's no helping that.

Twisted Fate tucks his book under his arm and holds out his hand. "For yours truly? How interesting," he says, emulating his air of arrogance, but he's not feeling particularly confident in the moment.

The krakken was different, and drew his attention, but Gavin still handed it over easily, taking a good look at the recipient.

"Twisted Fate?" He repeated with curiosity to the other elf. "What kind of name is that meant to be?" He didn't point out that it wasn't Dalish - that was obvious - but he was still curious.

The same question, as always. He lets out a small laugh, tipping his hat back as he takes the letter from Gavin.

"The kind I gave myself," Fate says, looking over the letter cautiously. "We have someone who calls himself the Iron Bull, you know. Though I guess mine's a bit more dramatic, isn't it?"

That earned him a lopsided grin.

"Fair point," He allowed. "Iron Bull lives up to his name pretty fully, though. Twisted Fate doesn't sound like a name I would want to live up to. I'm Gavin, by the way. Clan Ashara."

"Then you're very smart to think that way." It seems, at least, he doesn't disagree with the idea that his name isn't something someone wants to have.

Fate chuckles. "Gavin, well met. It seems there's quite a few from your clan here. I'm impressed with how many are so eager to help."

"I wouldn't say that to anyone else, I have a bit of a history of lacking decent common sense," He quipped in reply, though he offered it with the same roguish grin.

"And yes - there are a few of us around, surprisingly enough. I thought I'd be the only one for sure, but then they all came down after Haven." He arched an eyebrow. "And you? I knew we had a few other Dalish here, but no one I know. Did you join up on your own or did they slip a few more into the ranks?"

"People can be clever outside of common sense, though you may want to get that looked at." Gavin's sense of humor does earn a soft laugh from Fate.

The question should have been expected. Fate shrugs a little and looks at the letter instead of meeting Gavin's eyes. "My clan wouldn't think to look outside itself," he says gently. "So, on my own. That's the answer."

Gavin just nodded - of course they didn't.

"Sorry," he says, half for asking the question, half for understanding the answer, half for the answer being what it was. It was an all-encompassing, sympathetic, and empathetic, sorry.

"Well, we'll adopt you, then," he decided, even though he had no idea who Twisted Fate was, what he was like, or what the other Ashara's would think about him willy-nilly adopting people into their clan. "Might as well all stick together now that we're here, right?"

"No apologies necessary. I came to terms with it a long time ago. But thank you for your consideration."

The abrupt adoption decision actually catches him off guard, and Fate blinks before raising a brow. He's smiling, shaking his head. "You're terribly considerate. How sweet of you."

The outright wide-eyed thoughtfulness is terribly kind, and he muses to himself. He doubts the rest of the clan would be so eager to accept him, and he doubts even further he'd really fit in. The traditional Dalish lifestyle isn't quite his anymore.

"But you're not wrong. Strength in numbers, hm?"

If they managed to keep from kicking Gavin out for so long, they really didn't have high standards. He was about as far from traditional Dalish as he could be without getting banished.

"Exactly," He agrees, smiling easily. "Plus, then everyone will think we somehow magically multiply, which I'm sure would come in handy."

"Well, I think I've already convinced a few that sometimes I dance naked in the moonlight to appease the creators, so why not?" Fate snorts.

"Thank you kindly for being so thoughtful, honeycomb. Let me know when you're done handing out letters; I'd like for us to talk again sometime. As for me, I've something to read."

"I think at some point we really should try that, but maybe not in Skyhold. Far too cold." He grinned, and then offered Twisted Fate a short bow.

"Enjoy the reading, and feel free to bother me any time. I tend to be found wherever there is free food on offer." He gave a wink, and then - humming - he wandered off.