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

His ears flickered as Zevran pulled him, but he'd always been a creature of comfort and the physical affection went a long way to soothe any bruised egos he might have about the bribery. (Did it really count as bribery if the only result he obtained was seeing the people he cared about actually happy with him, for a little while? Yes. Yes, it probably did.)

"What if we just told them he was dead?" He asked finally, after having letting his head flop onto Zevran's shoulder. (Your fault, Zevran. Give him an inch and he'll take a mile.) "Maybe he would be less mad at me for just faking his death instead of actually causing his mother's. Or maybe we could find his father a mistress and make her worry about something else for a while."

"That would take a lot of paperwork, recovering a body, bribing a few officials, a fake funeral, and changing Max's name and appearance. It can be done but it is so much more complicated." Killing is simpler- the death is caused and hidden or posed as an accident, and you move along.

Faking a death- that is a great deal more difficult.

Without much thought he reached up to pet Gavin's hair, hoping that will settle him somewhat.

Gavin sighed. Zevran was right, of course. Way more work.

"Maybe I'll just go and piss on their dog," Gavin said sullenly, now obviously just giving up on actually figuring it out until they had more information. He closed his eyes, still slumped on Zevran's shoulder. He'd no idea that he'd felt so exhausted...

"Now that is terrible. What has the dog done to you, mm? Nothing. Just because it's owners are terrible does not mean you should punish their Mabari. Besides. they hold grudges." HE remembers that well enough.

"Fine," he mumbled, as if from far away. "Just train the dog to piss on..." It sounded as if he had intended to finish that sentence, but the voice suddenly died off - Gavin having completely worn himself out with worry meant that as soon as his head had fallen horizontal against Zevran's shoulder, all hope was lost. He was already asleep.

"..." Honestly if that had been his intent he'd have gotten him closer to his tent. He could just dump him on the log, but- With a sigh he hefted Gavin into his arms and carried him to his assigned tent. A few hours in a bedroll would be better for his neck.