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Entry tags:
OPEN, sort of
WHO: Gavin, a few specific people, but also OPEN
WHAT: Gavin returns from his adventure in the Mire, and has a few things he has to follow up on.
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Gavin should come with his own warning but otherwise, CW for discussion of suicidal thoughts/tendencies (it's all in point number 2, so you can skip that if you want)
WHAT: Gavin returns from his adventure in the Mire, and has a few things he has to follow up on.
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Gavin should come with his own warning but otherwise, CW for discussion of suicidal thoughts/tendencies (it's all in point number 2, so you can skip that if you want)
On the long march back to Skyhold, Gavin had decided on at least something of a plan of action. Well. Plan of action was probably giving him too much credit. He had a plan. And plan was also probably somewhat more organized than what he actually had: which was a vague idea of people and conversations he should probably have.
A vague idea of things he should probably do.
Because there were a few truths, that were becoming apparent to him, and they were these:
1. He was not likely to survive this war. This wasn't a huge surprise (he never did have a good sense of self preservation), but it was still something he had to acknowledge. This wasn't the kind of thing he could fuck up and then make up for later by smiling sheepishly with presents. Or bribes, as Zevran so eloquently put it. So. If he fucked up, he was dead. Worse - if he fucked up, he likely also made sure other people were dead. Which brought him to point number two.
2. He wanted to survive this war. This was a surprise, as half of his plan in coming to the Inquisition had involved gallant death, and meant that number 1 was proving to be a bigger problem than it would have been otherwise. Part of it was that he had found people here that he wanted to make sure survived it themselves. But another part, perhaps, came from having a back up plan. Maybe it was strange, to find some sort of odd peace by planning in detail one's eventual death if it was necessary. And as long as Zevran was alive, he had that back up plan. So surviving in the meantime was okay - because if it ever wasn't okay, he had a way out.
3. If he was going to survive the war and have anything left to survive it for, he had to stop running. Somehow. This had already been drummed into him by a few people, but it had never really taken. It wasn't until - ironically - he'd been talking to Alistair about throwing his life away by joining the Wardens that he'd actually started to think any deeper about what he was going to do after the Inquisition. Even what he was doing in the Inquisition. Harding would kill him if he ran away again, and that probably wasn't entirely an exaggeration. If 1 was destined to happen, then at the very least, it should be by Corypheus's hand and not his own.
All this meant that he had to be better, and he had to be better now. Not an indeterminate time later, when the stars aligned, but now. While he had time. While they all had time. While it would still mean something, and make a difference.
Maxwell and Pel. That was where to start, but they weren't the only ones. Merrick. Harding. Maria. So many of his friends.... There were a lot of apologies and the couldn't come with presents. Bribes. They couldn't even really be apologies, because he knew how hollow those sounded, from him, these days. He needed to make an actual effort.
So he sought out each one, wherever they were.
[HOW THIS WILL WORK: Basically if you want to have a chat with Gavin and already know him, tag in wherever you are and he will come find you. If you have not met Gavin but want to, hit me up on plurk or PM and I'll start up a different thread starter for you. Basically I just wanted a catch all for a bunch of different threads for him and then the description got out of hand.]
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"Well then I guess I will just have to keep myself from getting killed," He said, his eyes meeting Maxwell's for just long enough to catch the expression in them, which only made him more embarrassed and he had to look away, chuckling to himself.
"Should bottle those eyes, they'd probably come in useful."
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He chuckled, looking away with a little twinge of color flushing up from his collar, and squeezed Gavin's fingers.
"But, in all seriousness, I would appreciate that if you could."
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"If all else fails, we pretend I'm dead and I live in the attic and sneak down for dinner."
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"I think you might have a hard time keeping me out," he replied easily, before the smile spread.
"So - does this mean I can kiss you, now?"
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"...I thought you'd never ask."
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He shuffled his seat up closer, until his knees gently tapped Maxwell's. His hand raised, fingers brushing chin first, then jaw, gently pulling Maxwell closer as he leaned in, and gave him a warm, slow, soft kiss.
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Then his eyes were closing and his chin was tilting slightly into Gavin's palm. Then, there was nothing but the kiss.
Light and sweet, and somehow, all more potent for it.
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His thumb moved, brushing Maxwell's cheek gently, the stubble below the skin feeling like sandpaper against the pad of his thumb.
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"I could get used to this sort of homecoming."
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"Yeah, I think I could too," He agreed in a quiet murmur, the corners of his eyes crinkling, his smile wide and fond.
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"You're planning on bringing me a present?"
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Even as he said though, his face was shifting, a thought occurring to him.
"That said, I do have something for you. Something I didn't think Lord Kildarn would miss too terribly..." He grinned handsomely. "I don't have it on me at the moment, but you get a chance, stop by the garden."
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"Oh? You stole something from a Lord, for me?" His expression flickered with humour, the grin widening. "How dangerous and romantic."
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"Just remember that when you see it." Considering, he probably should have taken something more worth the time and frustration, but theft wasn't something he took to easily. "But as it stands, I don't think it's anything I'm going to lose my hands over."
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"We'll make a master thief out of you, yet," Gavin teased, grinning. "Though admittedly I'd prefer that you keep your hands." There was a bit of a mischievous twinkle in his eye, though he didn't follow up on it.
"But I can come looking for you later. Maybe ah - much later. At night. Where you sleep." Okay, so maybe he was following up on it.
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Flushing a little, he nodded.
"I'll keep a candle lit."