faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Gavin and OPEN
WHAT: Gavin getting his bearings of Skyhold as the Inquisition reels from its loss.
WHEN: Beginning of game timeline, aka, nowish?
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: He's a derp, don't say I didn't warn you. Also, as I mentioned in his app, he's spent a long time wandering Thedas - so if you'd like to have it so they've already met previous to the conclave, and want to hash out some back history, let me know.

He hadn't expected to feel such a weight of helpless loss. After all, he hadn't even met her, despite being in Haven at the time. Despite somehow surviving the mess than ensued. He'd seen her, sure, but she was something high above him and they never actually crossed paths. Which was why, when her death hit him so hard, he was surprised.

It wasn't even the hopelessness that the situation was prone to give birth to. It was honestly for her - for the individual, rather than the Mark on her hand. But how could you mourn a person you never really knew?

Mostly, it turned out, by throwing himself into absolutely anything else. (At least this sort of running from his problems was productive. Mostly.) Luckily, Skyhold was hardly without things to do. The place was a shambles - an absolute mess - so he mostly tried to tag onto whatever work group was currently working. He sort of forgot to sleep, but that wasn't strange in of itself. Nor was the fact that he wasn't actually making himself very useful. He kept getting distracted. It wasn't his fault that everything in this place was fascinating. And fascinating things were much, much better than grief.

Which was why, anyone who happened to be in Skyhold, could find him in some very peculiar places. He'd managed to nearly plummet to his death from the rookery, get tangled in cobwebs in the hidden library in the basement, climb through the hole in Cullen's roof to get distracted by a bird instead of trying to fix it, and even had spent thirty minutes trying to get to know one of the horses. Also he kept not watching where he was going - physically running into people, or backing up into them, letting out a hasty apology and a lopsided, shameful grin.

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Despite not liking the taste of the drink, Sam still takes a sip from it. Mostly to hide the grin on his face. He knew what Gaving had meant from the beginning, but seeing as the Elf wanted to keep talking about it... Sam wasn't going to stop him.

"Looks as good as your ears turning red I'll guess," he says with mirth, putting the mug down.

"I take it under good authority that I look utterly ridiculous when I'm blushing," He countered, with a grin, though the blush certainly hadn't faded - only darkening now that it was drawn attention to.

"But there's really no accounting for taste."

Sam tilts his head at that. "Who told you that? Red looks good on you." He's teasing of course, but he's also being honest. "If you look 'utterly ridiculous' blushing then I must look like a complete fool."

"Just about everyone who's had the misfortune of seeing it," Gavin replied, but he was grinning. Making fun of himself always seemed to help his embarrassment rather than worsen it, and the blush was beginning to lessen.

"Though there is a point. Now I'm going to have to go out of my way to make you blush, later. Just to have a good comparison."

"Oh, well. That is certainly something to look forward to," he chuckles with amused sarcasm. Sam wouldn't say it was easy to make him blush, but once someone found the right thing to say or do he turned as bright as a tomato.

"You do realize that if you do then I will have to do the same to you. It will be an unending cycle."

"An endless war," Gavin agreed happily, before finishing off his entire ale in one drink, and slamming it down on the table with a triumphant grin. "May the best man win."

Grinning, Sam raises his untouched mug. "To an ongoing cycle."

How bad could it be?