faderift | Tomorrow will be kinder.

Entry tags:

Tomorrow will be kinder.

WHO: Maxwell Trevean and Open
WHAT: Maxwell's got some things he'd like to get done before the Inquisition heads out.
WHEN: Before heading to the Emprise
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: One prompt is smoopy. You have been warned.

Archery Range:

Settled in the garden, Maxwell and his belongings had been right in the path of the abomination. He'd managed to escape unscathed, but the rest of his things weren't as lucky. Many were damaged, or outright destroyed. And replacing them was not as easy it had once been.

Keenly aware that he had no real right to complain, and that the alternatives - on either side - could be much worse, he said nothing about it. Merely put his head down, and got to work. Doing whatever he could to earn a little extra coin, or to trade for replacement clothes and bedding. (And maybe, if he was lucky, enough extra to prepare for the trek to the frigid mountains of the Emprise.)

The archery range was a good place for this. Any bowman worth their salt could fletch and sharpen their own arrows, but it was busy work and Maxwell didn't mind offering his hands and time for a small fee. For a larger price he'd even tend to the bows themselves - restringing, and waxing, maybe a little customization? How about some nice engraving?

He liked the work, and it put a little money in his pocket. A victory all around, in Maxwell's book.

Forge:

When he'd filled his requests for the day, and when Skyhold's blacksmiths had hung up their tools for the night, Maxwell took their place with some work of his own. He hoped that he might be able to finish his gift for Gavin before the Inquisition broke for the Emprise. He didn't know if the elf was going, or even if he was, how much they might see of each other while they were there. (It wasn't a holiday, after all.)

The idea of getting the necklaces finished, and being able to take a piece of each other where ever they went... it made him smile, and pushed him to work that much harder, stoking the fires long into the night.

Skyhold Wild Card:

There was time, occasionally, for tea or ale in the Herald's Rest. And he was still looking for some corner of the castle to call his own, after the last had been burnt to a crisp. Even if neither were particularly productive, he did get to meet all sorts of new faces.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She eyed the charm thoughtfully, before taking out one of his arrows to test. He would find hers made simply - no markings on them, and the wood varying as well. It was the feathers that made the difference - it looked like she had stripped every bird from here to Orlais. A variety of different colors and cuts.

She took her stance, notched the arrow and tested it's weight and flexibility as she drew the bow back its full draw easily. Then she lessened the pull, and aimed at the target.

Breath out.

Fire.

The arrow sang through the air, thudding directly to the center of the target. She nodded her head, impressed. "Bit heavier than I'm used to, but the designs really seem to make it fly."

He watched, nodding in approval at her stance and draw. Pleased, when his arrow struck, and stuck, home.

"The weight gives it more force," he explained as he shifted the sharpening stone in his palm and began to stroke one of her arrowheads over it. "The designs give it a smooth flight, and, additionally, help me pick them out on the field. I know which ones are mine without having to think about it."

Which was useful when there could a dozen or more archers all shooting at once.

She nodded her head with approval, because they did have more force than her homemade ones. Of course, to be fair, so were his -- but she liked the designs. A thoughtful look came over her face, as she fetched his arrow and returned it back to him.

"If I bring you the feathers, can you make them with my fletching?" A pause, and then a more intent look, "And can you design to order?"

He nodded, first - adding fletching was simple work - but then his expression shifted into one more thoughtful. The arrow in his hand stilled as he considered.

"I would think so," he replied with a little tip of his head. "Depending on what you have in mind? Something large or incredibly detailed would be difficult, if not impossible."

And would likely leave her with something more like an art piece, than an actual tool for use.

"What are you thinking?"

She nodded her head, smiling a little, before she shifted her leather coat so he could see the pin on her shoulder - the one of the mockingjay in flight, with a circle of gold around it.

"I'd like to have the outline of the mockingjay on my arrows, if you think it wouldn't throw off the weight too much." It was Prim's pin, and that meant with every arrow that Katniss shot, her sister was helping bring the world back to peace. That she was part of everything that Katniss was trying to accomplish.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing as he tried to picture it. "It's a more unusual design..." Not something he would have immediately tried to put on an arrow, at any rate. "But not a terribly difficult one."

He set the arrow and stone aside and reached for his nearby sketchbook.

"May I?" he asked, as he opened it, gesturing with one hand to the pin.

Edited 2016-01-26 12:37 (UTC)

Katniss paused, before she carefully un-pinned the mockingjay from her coat and handed it over carefully. It wasn't much more than costumer jewelry, but she acted as if it was given to her by Emprise Celene,

After she handed it over, she folded her arms over her chest, waiting for him to be done.

Noting her reluctance, Maxwell pushed himself a little faster than he might otherwise have, sketching a quick copy of the pin onto a blank page of his sketchbook. It was rough, but all he really needed was the shape. He could clean the edges later.

Holding the piece back out to her, he raised the book to blow gently on the ink.

"I'll do one, and then you can look at it and tell me if it works for you. How does that sound?" No sense in crafting a quiverfull if they weren't going to fly straight or if she didn't like the design work.

She took the pin back, and immediately put it back on her jacket, making sure it was firmly pinned into place before tilting her head curiously at the picture.

"All right - will what I have paid you so far do for a sample?" She asked, because this was specialty work, which would probably cost a pretty copper more.

He nodded without even having to consider it. He was doing it to try and get back on his feet, not rob people, and a single arrow wouldn't take him more than a few hours.

"It'll do plenty," he said with a smile. "I don't think it'll take me too long, so I can probably have something for you to test in the next day or two." He lowered the book and poised his quill to sketch a name. "Do you have a sending crystal?"

She smiled at that, before she pulled the sending crystal from inside of her hunting leathers. "I do. So please, feel free to reach out to me when they are done."

She looks at the arrows, her voice quiet, "You must be a great shot with these, I'd imagine. I could never craft anything as fine."

"I will."

He added her name to the sketch, the script a lot like the man - handsome, but not overbearingly so. Another puff to dry the ink and he closed the book, looking up as went on.

"I do alright," he replied, smiling gently. "But so could you, with training. I didn't wake up one day, able to do this." He gave the book a little wag, referring to the sketches inside and the pieces he makes. "Just like using the bow, it's time and practice."

She nods her head at the drawing - if she had half of this man's skill ... "My friend Gavin has talent like that. You're lucky."

A pause at his statement, and something flickers through her gaze. Amusement? Oh yes. She takes her quiver from him, and then she pulls her bow and moves down the line of targets, moving and firing at the same time with relative ease.

Each shot hits the center of the mark, and the last one, she takes a knee and does a full draw -- sending the arrow straight through the target, right through the wood itself.

Then she stands, and gives him an innocent smile. "Oh, I know."

His eyebrow went up at the mention of Gavin - he really knew everyone, didn't he - but before he could ask, she was firing and he was watching. He said nothing, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

When she turned back, he rubbed the tip of his tongue against the inside of his cheek, deciding why not? The only project he had at the moment, other than his own, was her's. He could spare a little time.

Setting his book aside, he picked up his bow - handcrafted from a pale wood, with sweeping elegant limbs, the engraving was only half-complete, but still it was a handsome thing. He didn't bother with his quiver, sliding free only a single arrow, he stepped up beside her.

He gave himself a moment to study the target, already skewered, then drew. He held a beat and then released.

The sound of splintering arrow was as satisfying now as it had been the first time, all those years ago with Gavin at the Grand Tourney.

He turned back to her with a pleased grin.

Edited 2016-01-29 15:54 (UTC)

Now that ... was impressive. She arched an eyebrow at it, before she grinned in kind. Taking out another arrow, she sighted the one he had used to split hers -- breathed out. Balanced.

And sent her arrow splintering through his in turn.

She turned back to him, lifting up one eyebrow as if to say, Well? What else have you got?, but the smile on her face was genuine.

Maxwell laughed.

"It took me the better part of the year to perfect that trick," he said, with a shake of his head. "But a year will spent."

It had reminded him of the time at the Grand Tourney. Of his time with Gavin.

"Well done."

Her smile widened at that, before she admitted as she hooked the bow back over her shoulder.

"It took me the better part of two years - both the splitting of the first arrow, and then the second one."

She dipped her bow, before she looked at him. "You too. You're one hell of an archer."

"Practice," he said again, grin flashing in his eyes.

Always practice and patience.

"And thank you. We should go on a hunt sometime, between us I bet we could bring back rabbits enough to make stew for everyone."

"What a funny thing ... that's the same thing I use." Katniss said, with an almost completely straight face, before she smirked.

Then she arched an eyebrow at him.

"Ser, with this kind of shooting? I hope you meant august rams."

The grin was back, pleased by her response.

"It's harder to carry a few dozen of those at once," he replied, corners of his eyes wrinkled handsomely with humor.

"Tsk, Maxwell. Haven't you ever built a sled before?" Katniss arched an eyebrow at him, smiling. "Clearly some hunter around her was something of a city boy."

"Is that you offering to pull it?" Maxwell shot back, enjoying the playful joking. "Clearly someone here has more muscles than she let on."

"Well if the big strong man can't handle it? The wiry young woman certainly can." She shot back, her smirk now in full force. "Just because of my figure is willowy doesn't mean the willow's branches are going to snap, friend."

He laughed.

"That sounds like a challenge if ever I heard one," he said. And he did so love them. "You just let me know when you want to go."

She smirked again, tilting her head to the side.

"How about when I get back from Emprise du Lion? I'll need to go hunting then."

Tomorrow will be kinder.

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