faderift | (no subject)

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(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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"I wanted to come sooner," he admitted, nodding for Gavin to join him as he started walking, crossing the basement and heading for the kitchen. "But I--"

He broke off. No, he didn't want to bring that up. He didn't want to ruin his mood.

"I was delayed. I'm not surprised you're here though. Surprised to see you, but not that you're here." He pushed the door open with his hip and turned into the dark, firelight kitchen. "Sometimes I wondered if you'd even remember me, if we ever met again."

He set the box down on the counter and looked a Gavin with a bright smile.

"I'm glad you did."

He followed, grabbing another radish from where it had fallen, but dutifully replacing it in the box this time. He caught that 'but I', and the hesitation that followed it, but put it away for later. Whatever pain was behind that could wait.

At the last, however, he laughed happily. "You really think I could have forgotten you?" He asked with a grin. "Not the way you split that arrow. I've never seen anything like it, before or since. I'd never forget you."

"I had help," Maxwell pointed out with a chuckle, pushing the box back away from the edge of the table before turning to the door on the side of the room. "I recall striking all around the thing before you stepped in."

He pushed open the other, blinking and ducking his head against the sunshine - almost painfully bright after the dark of the kitchen.

"I still have it, you know. My piece."

He stood in the shadow, for a heart beat, hanging at the edge between dark and light as if trapped in a thought. But then he stepped forward, pulling a hand up to shield his eyes.

He was smiling, warm and wide, and laughed. "Do you? So do I. Kept meaning to put the fletching on a new arrow, but couldn't quite bring myself to do it. That seals it, then. Fate brought the pieces together again!"

He ducked his head, grinning. He'd felt foolish sometimes, holding onto that lone arrowhead, tying it to his bow or slinging it around his neck, but he'd never quite been able to part with it. He was pleased to hear Gavin had felt the same.

Clearing his throat, he walked out into the wild grass, tipping his head back to look up at Skyhold. Workers were like ants, crawling over scaffolding and the brickwork. Yanking at ivy, hammering wood, moving blocks.

"I confess I don't quite know my way around yet, do you know a good place we might be able to steal a few minutes without being underfoot?"

"I think that depends on your definition of 'underfoot'," he said wryly. "There's the tavern - which is about as far from privacy as you can get, but has the benefit of alcohol. There's the Library, which is nice, but full of mages half the time. The main hall is always busy, as is the courtyard. The chantry is quiet, but, ah--" He looked a little embarrassed. "I always feel a little odd, going there."

He paused, thinking. "We could grab a bite and head up to the abandoned tower on the east wall. We're going to shore it up, eventually, but for the moment it's pretty empty."

He didn't speak as Gavin listed the possibilities, but he still responded, face shifting slightly as they were ticked off. A thoughtful purse of lips at the Tavern - ale was always good; an uncertain brow wrinkle at the Library - he didn't want to disturb anyone, certain there would be talk and laughter; and then an outright snort at the Chantry.

Even if there wasn't anyone in there to disturb, it wasn't somewhere he wanted to be right then.

"No spiders?" he joked at last. "Anywhere where they aren't and I think we'll be okay."

"Oh, I don't know," He said, flashing a grin. "Now that I've got you to protect me from them, I think we'd be fine. Tower it is, then. The tavern has been rowdy, with all these new arrivals, and I think I'd like to hear myself think!"

Without another word, he suddenly ducked back in the door, returning quickly with a small bundle under his arms.

"Come on, then!"

He didn't need to get caught by the cook, again.

Maxwell shook his head, but grinned at the blatant thievery - some things never changed - and jogged a couple steps to fall in with Gavin as he led the way.

"I rescued you from some overgrown cobwebs," he teased. "Spiders are entirely different."

He made a show of shuddering, only half-mocking.

"If the ones that make those webs are even half as big, you might well be on your own."

Gavin feigned a gasp as they made their way. "For shame, Maxwell! To abandon me to such creatures. I'm wounded."

It was hard to pretend that he really was, however, because he was having a really hard time from not simply grinning with honest pleasure.

"I suppose we'll just have to work with the strategy 'if spiders: run very fast'."

"You have discovered my one and true weakness," he replied, raising a hand to his breast and hanging his head heavily - though he lost the image completely with the wide, bright grin curving up into his cheeks, flashing a dimple. "Try not to think of me too terribly."

He glanced at Gavin out the corner of one eye, apparently to see if he was falling for it, then laughed and lifted his head again, letting the joke settle pleasantly.

"I'm glad I found you, Gavin."

Of course he wasn't falling for it - he was already laughing, clutching the bundle to himself. The laugh and the grin faded into a warm, bright smile, and he reached out to clasp Maxwell's shoulder.

"Likewise, I promise. I -" He faltered, there, laughing to cover up the momentary hitch in his chest. "- This suits us better than being apart, I think. Though how you managed to convince your parents into letting you come here, I'll never know."

He reached out as well, a simple one-armed hug because he could-- then he withdrew again, smile faltering slightly.

"'Convince... isn't quite the word I'd use," he said. They made their way up the stairs and up to the door of the tower, hanging slightly off-kilter, knocked off one of its hinges. He lifted it up and swung it out for Gavin to enter. "We discussed it, they had their opinion, I had mine..."

He eased the door shut behind them, setting it back against the stone floor.

"And then I left, because I knew I had to."

He paused as he stepped in, the smile having slipped from his lips, and concern having settled there instead.

"... I'm sorry, Maxwell. I didn't know. Are you alright?"

He heard it, the shift, and he quickly tried to soothe it away. The moment had been too good - had been theirs.

He wasn't going to lose this one for them too.

"It isn't surprising. It's always been this way." He shook his head and turned, working up a smile. "But I'm where I want to be, so please, don't worry. I'll fine."

Edited 2015-10-17 19:45 (UTC)

"Well, now that you've told me not to worry, I'm definitely going to," He teased quietly, offering him a small smile, but the concern was still there.

"Regardless - I'm glad you're here. So let's forget them, and catch up instead, shall we?"

"Please, let's."

The tower didn't offer much, but there was sunlight streaming in through a wide crack one wall, and a few boxes stacked to one side. Maxwell fetched one done, brushing it off for Gavin, and then took another for himself.

"So, is this - more scouting for you? Or are you staying with the Inquisition as well?" he asked.

He took the box, setting it down, dusting it off and then sitting down - the little bundle safely in his lap.

"It started that way, I'll admit. But that was... weeks ago, now. I've sort of lost track of time. I joined the Inquisition officially back before - before Haven." He covered up the hesitation with a careful smile. "So I'll be staying. For as long as they can put up with me, I suppose."

Maxwell didn't say anything immediately, reaching out instead to touch Gavin's shoulder, warm and steady. He hadn't been present, of course, hadn't seen or lost the way his friend had, but he'd heard. He could imagine, and that was bad enough.

"...We'll be back in action together for the foreseeable future then. I can live with that," he said after a moment, a gentle joke. Mostly truth. "Did your clan..."

He trailed off with a gesture, knowing Gavin would understand. They were cut from too similar a cloth not too.

"I have no idea," He said honestly, looking somewhat bemused. "I thought I was cut off, for sure, but - Some of them came here." He said it with the honest surprise that he felt, that he hadn't actually had a chance to address outloud with anyone.

"I'd sent back letters, before -- but they weren't sure I survived, apparently. It doesn't matter. The fact is that a bunch of them are here, and I have absolutely no idea what to do with it."

"Well, it's a good thing, isn't it?" he asked, brow wrinkling slightly, recognizing that Gavin was turned around about it and uncertain what he could do to help. "Surprising, I'm sure, but at least... they agree? And they care. That's something."

He gave a bemused expression, raising a hand to ruffle his own hair - finding a few cobweb traces in it.

"It's different, I'll give it that," he murmured, feeling bad already. And they care. He had half a mind to pull Maxwell into a tight hug, but held back. "I'll have to introduce you, I suppose, at some point. Though I - apologize in advance. I don't have the best track record, and--" he wavered off, and then let out a small, helpless laugh. "Well. It should be interesting, anyway."

"I'd love too, Gavin," he said easily, honestly, smile warm. "And I promise I won't take anything personal if you don't."

His smile tipped, went wry and teasing.

"I am a dreaded shem after all."

Maxwell's warm smile did much to put him at ease, and he laughed, despite himself.

"Alright, alright. Though - I uh, should warn you in advance, I suppose. Cy will probably try to - ah - seduce you on sight. He does that." A wry look, and then he laughed at himself, the tips of his ears going pink. "Though what you - ah - how you react, is entirely up to you, obviously--"

Creators, but he was stumbling all over himself. Why did he even bring this up? The blush spreading, he turned his attention back to the bundle in his arms, carefully unwrapping it, he had to crane his neck a little - just enough to flash the dark red mark that had been left there on his skin from the night before.

"I've got a few apples and a pear. Which would you like?"

His eyebrows cocked, eyes flicking to Gavin's ears - "...sometimes the ears are the only tell you get" - and his smile dimpling as he chuckled.

"I see," he replied. "I'll be sure and..."

Gavin shifted and his collar slid down. He looked without thinking, eyes seemingly drawn through a will of their own... and saw the bruise. It might have been from anything, of course, but the sudden jerk in his chest said otherwise. That feeling like falling.

The dull one that followed.

Oh. ...Oh, right. Of course.

It had been a long time. And even then, Gavin hadn't... And he hadn't expected anything now, so it was all very foolish.

Very, very foolish.

"I'll keep that in mind," he finally caught himself with a stutter and shook it off, pushing himself away from the sudden turn by focusing on a smile and the simple question. "The pear, unless you're particular to it."