faderift | And now I'm looking for a reason why

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And now I'm looking for a reason why

WHO: Maxwell Trevean and Gavin Ashara
WHAT: Goodbyes before taking off their respective missions
WHEN: Back from the Mire, before the next round of missions
WHERE: Herald's Rest
NOTES: N/a.

Maxwell knew his time at Skyhold would be short lived, he'd already received word about Lord Kildarn's request for aid and they would be shipping out for northern Ferelden soon. But, however momentary it might be, it was good be back at the castle. Out of the muck and rain of the mire, back in the sun and fresh breeze. Back where the liquor didn't come out of unlabeled bottles pulled from the mud and the food didn't look like it might slither off his plate at any moment.

The mission would come soon enough. And before he left, he'd need to finally reply to his mother's missive. Somehow.

But first, it was time for some indulgence at the Herald's Rest, at his favorite table on the second floor behind the stairs.

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Maxwell brightened, almost immediately. His head coming up and his eyes flashing as Gavin slid in across from him.

"And you didn't bring me any?" he asked, an eyebrow raising teasingly even as his mouth pushed into a small pout as he cut into his meat pie. "Clearly that's not why you were looking."

"Well, the issue was that the pie in question ended up on the ground, so I'm not sure you would want a piece of it. Also, it was not mine." As if that had ever stopped him before.

"But no, that's not why I came to find you. I came to find you, because I made you a promise, so I'm here to keep it."

"Oh?" A little surprised, a lump of breading wobbled halfway to his mouth and plopped back into his pie. He fished after it again. "Already?"

He could be forgiven, given recent events, if his mind leaped to the letter, stomped into the black mud of the mire and Gavin's insistence that he wouldn't let his mother take him.

'Already' was a weird thing to say to the statement, so Gavin frowned slightly, tracing back everything he'd ever promised to Maxwell, and listing them off quickly in his head.

1 ) To be Best Friends [check!]

2 ) To tell him when he was running off / going away so that he wouldn't worry [checking that off right now!]

3 ) Give Maxwell a bite of any food that he hadn't tried before, and to Not Laugh if he choked [keeps failing the laughing half.]

4 ) Don't jump on him to wake him up [should really try harder to keep this one]

5 ) To not mind his silence in the morning if he hadn't had his tea yet [check! it's too cute to mind.]

6 ) to Deal With his mother [working on it]

Once he got to number six, he realised that must be the one that Maxwell was talking about and shook his head quickly. "No not that one. The other one, the second one," he said, without actually mentioning that he had a list.

"I'm heading back to the Mire, for a few days. On a mission. But I promised that I would tell you if I had to disappear, so that you wouldn't worry, so that is what I'm doing." He cleared his throat.

"Maxwell - I'm going away for a few days, but I will be back, so don't worry about me, okay?"

His eyebrows had cocked and he was about to ask, but Gavin was carrying on - and explaining - before he had to. The small wrinkle of uncertainty over his nose smoothed and his mouth eased into a soft, fond smile.

"...I can't promise I won't worry just a little," he replied finally, scooping himself another forkful, minding a wayward pea. "But thank you, Gavin. It means a lot that you thought to tell me."

"Well as long as it isn't the kind of worry that gets me punched, kicked, or shoved, I'll take it," Gavin said, offerring him a wry grin. "As to the other... I'm working on it. There's a few options, but... ah, well, not one solid one that I would pitch forward at this particular point in time."

Definitely not mentioned to Maxwell that maybe killing his mom is the best idea he's come up with so far. "But I've got a couple leads. I'll let you know if there's anything substantial."

It was the kind of statement that Gavin occasionally made that while he knew the elf meant it as a joke, Maxwell couldn't help a little kick in his gut. A small twitch of muscle along his jaw.

For all they had talked about his family, his parents and their demands, it wasn't as if everything was a bed of roses for Gavin.

Looking down into his pie, he chopped up a few more bites.

"I'm going to tell them no," he said, firmly. "That whatever they're planning, I am, and will refuse." He doubted it would actually do anything, but it seemed as fair a first step as any. "Maybe they'll remember why they almost cut me off the last time and do it again."

Gavin looked up at that, watch Maxwell eat his pie.

"Yeah?" He asked, almost tentatively, before leaning over to pick a piece of crust off of Maxwell's pie and eat it. "You think that will work...? And they won't just do it anyway?"

He licked his fingers to get the crumbs. "I just - The idea that you might have to keep doing this, with them hounding you..." His ears pulled back - not the kicked puppy look, but more focused. "Just let me know, alright? I'll help. Whatever happens, I'm not going to let them do that to you."

Automatically, without thinking, Maxwell shifted and inched his bowl further across the table - making it easy for them both to reach.

"If they do, I'll write to the other side, and tell them no." He shrugged lightly, unsure that it would really help either, but wanting to hope so. "The scandal of it might turn them off, if nothing else."

Gavin wet his lips, and used his finger to break off another bit of crust, and then dip it into the pie to get some of the gravy.

(Because what were manners, between friends?)

He didn't look convinced, at that, but there was time. As long as they didn't literally kidnap Maxwell and drag him back, there was time.

"I hope so," He murmured, frowning. "I'll keep looking into other options, in the meantime."

Even with the night on the battlements aside, as often as they shared food and drink between them, there wasn't anything Maxwell feared catching from Gavin. So he nudged a gravy-laden hunk of meat toward the elf's fingers, offering it without a word.

"Thank you, Gavin," he murmured, glancing across the table. "But don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. Well--" His head tipped as soon as he said it. "No where not for the Inquisition. I'm actually headed to Ferelden in the next few days. A Lord there has requested some help."

"Oh, you're heading out on a mission too?" Gavin asked, plucking the piece of meat from the pie and popping it into his mouth, stuffing it into a cheek like a chipmunk. He chewed for a minute, swallowed, and then grinned.

"You should bring me back something. Though to be honest I'm not sure there'd be anything in Ferelden to bring back. Even less in the mire... Any present I could find would probably just be mud. A mud pie, there you go, that'll be your present."

He dipped his finger into the pie and then licked the gravy off.

"Some of the food in Ferelden isn't bad," Maxwell replied, smiling gently as he watched Gavin. He couldn't say how much opportunity he'd have to pick anything up for him, but he got the chance... "I'll see what I can do. As for you--"

He gestured toward Gavin with his fork, "I brought plenty of mud back myself, so you coming back in one piece will be more than gift enough for me."

"You sure?" Gavin asked, grinning as licked the last bit of gravy clean from his fingers, and then wiggled them at him.

"If I lost one of these, then I could bring that for you, and you could take a piece of me with you everywhere," he teased, his voice taking a bit of a sing-song lilt.

Maxwell's eyes widened slightly in mild horror at the very thought, but so to did he chuckle softly as he shook his head.

"I'm fairly certain there are easier, less painful, ways of achieving that." He reached across to give one of Gavin's wild, coppery bangs a playful tug. "Lock's of hair are traditional."

Gavin grinned, chuckled as his eyes crossed slightly, trying to look at Maxwell's hand. The faintest edge of a blush at the tips of his ears.

"Hair? Are you sure that easier and less painful is the point?" He teased, before pulling back to rummage at his side for a minute, before pulling out his knife.

"I don't find the idea of someone I care about in pain, especially because of me, appealing," Maxwell replied softly, honestly, rubbing the strand of hair between his fingers before slowly withdrawing.

He spotted the blade a moment later and his heart skipped.

"...Not that you have to do anything, if you don't want to..."

Maxwell's soft murmur made Gavin's flush spread further, but he pretended that he either hadn't heard, or wasn't paying attention, and merely pulled the blade up, grabbed the tip of one of the locks of hair - and with a very quick movement swiped the sharp blade above where he was holding.

He brought the lock down - not too large, just a little longer than the width of a silver piece, and held it out.

"Now, what? If you just carry it around like this you're going to lose it all over the place."

Warmth knotted in Maxwell's throat, forcing him to swallow thickly before he could speak. Before he could reach out and - almost hesitantly, as if Gavin didn't really mean it for him - and take it.

"...Lockets are popular. I don't--" He flushed slightly, wishing more than anything in that moment he could say he had one. "But-- The Mire is known summer stone and blue vitriol, if you see any... I'm sure I could come up with something."

He twirled the lock gently and ran it between his fingers.

"A vial, might do in the meantime."

The look on Maxwell's face was entirely worth the price of admission, and Gavin's feet kicked quietly against themselves just above the floor.

"I don't generally carry lockets around with me, no," He admitted, his smile still wide, his ears a healthy red.

"But I'm sure I can come up with something. In the meantime, if you lose that, I can always replace it. Luckily hair, unlike fingers, comes with an endless supply."

Maxwell smoothed the strand gently, then reached down to his belt to slip it into a pouch for safe keeping until he could find a vial. (Maybe a stop by one of his mage friends? An empty lyrium bottle?)

"I don't expect we'll be in Ferelden that long, so take care of yourself, and I'll be here when you get back to Skyhold." He turned back, looking a little hopeful. "If you're back in time, we could celebrate the holiday together..."

"Sure," Gavin replied immediately, perhaps a little too quickly, beaming.

"I don't think we're supposed to be gone too long either. I'll come find you as soon as I get back."

Maxwell beamed, a simple, easy joy brought forth by Gavin's reply.

"Good." Flushing handsomely, he returned to his pie, scooping another forkful. "I look forward to it."

Gavin let them fall into an easy, companionable, warm silence; as he watched Maxwell eat and ever so often leaned in to take a piece of meat. He was still kicking his (bare) feet, before starting to teasingly nudge at Maxwell's ankles with his toes.

His eyes flicked up, cheek moving and bulging as he chewed, the corners of his mouth dragging ever upward. A dimple flashed.

He didn't say anything, didn't stop eating, but his leg did move. Stretching out to brace the toe of his boot against Gavin's bench. Giving him all the room and access he could want to tap and poke and press.

He didn't let himself think about it. He didn't even want to. The ever pervasive doubt and darkness was pushed back, for a few minutes, and Gavin just let himself enjoy the gentle brush of his toe against Maxwell's ankle.

"So how do you normally celebrate?" He asked in a quieter voice, smiling.

Maxwell continued to smile, even though the question immediately brought up thoughts of home and his parents.

"Actually, I'm looking forward to some new traditions this year," he said instead.

Edited 2015-12-07 14:53 (UTC)

"I'm sure we could come up with something," Gavin said, not noticing his faux pas. "I've never been good at traditions myself, so perhaps it's just best if I wing it."

His toes teasingly pulled at the hem of Maxwell's pant leg, brushing at the bare skin of the ankle beneath.

"It'll be nice to be with people who really want to be there just to be there," Maxwell replied, pausing only slightly when his pantleg tickled up his ankle, a tingle racing up along his spine. "That'll be my gift this year."

"So sentimental," Gavin teased, offering him a lopsided grin as he tickled at Maxwell's ankle with his toes. "I'm sure I can find you a better gift than that. And I can probably do it without setting too many things on fire."

Maxwell laughed and swayed his leg to bump Gavin's foot lightly.

"I would appreciate that, that's all. By all means, feel free to spoil me all you like."

"Now I have to figure out what exactly would spoil you," He murmured, thoughtfully, but the grin hadn't disappeared.

"You could always give me a hint as to what you'd like," He teased, toes twitching, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I wouldn't want to surprise you with something you wouldn't appreciate, after all. I am to please."

"I should think it fairly obvious," Maxwell murmured, glancing across at Gavin over his fork. Their eyes held a moment, then his lips twitched and he quickly filled his mouth.

After he'd chewed and swallowed, he said, "What about you though? Ser Mysterious and Worldly, what could you possibly want?"

That look definitely made him pause for a heartbeat - two - but he caught himself quickly, relegating the reaction to only the slight reddening of his ears.

"Oh, I don't know," he cooed lowly. "I think I might already have it."

Maxwell snorted, hunching slightly over his bowl. Mouth pulling hard to one side - the dimple flashing again - he looked up with a shake of his head.

"Aren't we a pair?"

(And it made his heart thump, warmth spreading across his chest.)

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And now I'm looking for a reason why

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