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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"I'm used to it," Gabin said kindly, giving Peter a smile. "I'm not exactly good at - ah - sitting still. I take it this is your first time with such a diverse company, then?"

"Never been in a mage tower? Just...picture this. But with a templar there-" He pointed at the door into the hallway, "And there."

Another point at just by the stacks of dusty shelves. The multiple Templars were for their protection, in theory, but Peter's friends had always speculated there had to be a point where the Templars were watching the other Templars as much as the mages.

"Human, of course."

"Funnily enough, they don't usually let non-magical wandering Dalish into the Circles," He quipped, before turning his head to watch where Peter was pointing.

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Well that... sounds incredibly pleasant," he said, the sarcasm dripping. "I like the Inquisition, but I like it precisely because I'm not escorted everywhere by burly templars."

"Some were pretty."

Not that it ever helped Peter. But while public enemy number one among the mages they may currently be, some of them had been nice to him over the years. In their way.

"The- uh, the girls ones. Some of them. Were girls."

"None of the 'boy ones' were pretty then?" Gavin asked, a teasing grin slipping to his lips. "That's quite a shame. But at least you got a good half, then."

"They called Sirius pretty, I suppose. Or Remus. Sometimes. When he wasn't listening- Er, my friends."

Peter is almost eager to explain just who Sirius and Remus were simply because of the novelty of having to explain it. There was no mystery in a mage tower who anyone was gossiping about. There were only so many people physically able to be the subject of the gossip.

"But I thought- don't you stay away? From people?"

"I didn't stay away from you, did I?" He asked, tilting his head. "As a people? Yes. We're supposed to. But I'm not a prime example of The People."

He sat back, pulling up his knees and resting his elbows on them.

"So tell me about your pretty friends."

"Sorry."

He's not exactly sure if the whole 'not a prime example' thing is a sore spot or not. But better safe than sorry. At least it's turned to a better topic.

"From the tower. Remus is here, the other two- James and Sirius, they're off doing...something impressive. They were never much at sitting still. They'll be back soon with stories."

I hope is unspoken, but can almost be heard in the way he trails off a little. He has total confidence in his friends, he couldn't dream there was anything they couldn't do. They'd never die. But it was possible they'd gone off and found a better life, without the lower half of the gang.

But, no. Of course not.

He only grinned at the apology - it was both a sore spot and a point of pride, so there was no apology necessary.

"Remus, James, and Sirius," he repeated, thoughtfully, making a note of it, in case he ran into them.

"Does that mean you're better at sitting still?"

"When they're not around. They're a pretty good influence."

Peter would have done nothing of the things that comprised his good tower memories (that didn't involve the occasional late morning in bed) without them, he knew.

"Sitting still's not supposed to be good for the soul."

"Well, I've never been very good at it, at least," Gavin said with a grin. "So if you feel like getting out and your friends aren't back yet, come look me up. I'm sure we can find plenty of trouble to get into."