faderift | [closed] There's a million things I haven't done

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[closed] There's a million things I haven't done

WHO: Gavin and Maxwell
WHAT: trouble in paradise
WHEN: NOWISH basically after Gavin visits Galadriel
WHERE: Location
NOTES: There's gonna be a FIGHT.

It was in the deepest part of the night - the moon had set but there were still hours before the sun rose, and despite the fact that the air was growing warmer in general, it was still bitterly cold when the wind blew strong. Running through the courtyard chilled him right to the bone, but once he made it into the hall, and into the gardens, the wind had at least stopped.

It didn't mean he was any warmer.

He found Maxwell tucked in a little closet off of the garden, and shook him awake.

"Maxwell - Maxwell, I need to talk to you --"

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Buried under the heavy bear pelt, he was warm and content - more than he had been while awake recently and he was reluctant to leave it. With a groan he rubbed his nose against the fur, frowning as he blinked sleepily.

"Wha-- Gavin..." He wiped at one eye, then narrowed both tiredly at him. "What is it?"

"I need to talk to you," he said, in an urgent whisper. He looked visibly upset, before turning his head to look around.

"But not - not here. Somewhere more private. Please? I know it's late, but--"

There was a long beat as Maxwell came fully awake, glancing slowly around the small, empty room after Gavin, realizing belatedly he'd been expecting this.

Hoping against this.

The look, the need to talk...

He exhaled a breath and sat up, running the hand over the whole of his face then.

"Yes... alright. Just give me a moment to get my coat."

Gavin nodded, anxious as he stood back up, wringing his hands while he waited. Once Maxwell was dressed, he didn't hesitate - immediately making a beeline out of the gardens and down, down into the little abandoned library, utterly silent in the dead of night.

"Maxwell, I know this - I know some of this might sound bad, but I need you to listen, okay?" Despite the privacy, his voice was still hushed.

He wasn't quite sure why talking required a change of location, what did Gavin expect him to do exactly? But he followed just the same. Flexing his hands slightly, the leather creaking softly, he looked at Gavin.

"I am. Whatever it is-- it'll be better if you just get it out."

"I need your help," He admitted, his ears drooping as he whispered, before the words all started tumbling out in a rush.

"I can't -- I'm not sure there's anything I can do on my own, I'm sure none of them will listen to me, I'm just a scout, and and elf at that, and I didn't think it mattered until now. But it does matter. It matters, and I was a fool to think otherwise, and I have to do something Maxwell, I can't just leave her in there, if you saw her--"

Steadying himself for something else entirely, that... caught him off guard. And not just because Gavin was rambling quickly without any real detail.

"I don't--" He held up a hand, shaking his head. "Wait. What are you talking about? 'Her' who?"

"Galadriel," He said, distraught, looking at Maxwell as if he should almost definitely know this already, and be as upset as he was.

"She doesn't belong in there, Maxwell, she didn't do anything - she hasn't hurt anyone and keeping her in there -- It's swallowing up her light... I'm not a mage, Maxwell, and I know she's not-- she's not from here but she knows Darkness, she's told me about it before, and she's the best we've got against Corypheus and they're treating her like a criminal--"

Gavin said her name and Maxwell continued to stare at him; it clearly not meaning as much as the elf hoped it would. But then, slowly, as he went on, understanding began to creep over his face. He had heard something... but under the hard light Anders had brought down on the Inquisition, it had slipped away, little more than a shadow.

"You mean the rifter? The one they arrested. Gavin, I'm sure they wouldn't do that if they didn't have some reason."

They would have to, wouldn't they? After everything else, they couldn't - wouldn't let that sort of thing happen....

Right?

Edited 2016-03-15 21:20 (UTC)

"The rifter?" He repeated, incredulous, confusion crossing his face. "Some reason-- Do you even know who I'm talking about?" He asked, the panic in his voice turning tighter, his eyes sharper, ears no longer drooping but still tight back against his head.

"Galadriel. The elf, Maxwell, the mage elf. They won't even tell us why they locked her up. If they have some reason they should tell us!"

For a moment he'd almost been revealed, thinking this conversation was going to be a fair better one than the one he'd expected to have in the wee hours of some cold night, but then Gavin rounded on him, all but hissing.

"Have you asked? You know what's been happening, with everything else... maybe they haven't gotten to an announcement yet."

"Haven't gotten to a..."

He'd lowered his defences he realised, then, in that moment. Changed his expectations. Usually he wouldn't even think about it, would expect it. Would assume in advance that a human wouldn't care. He would have come to this conversation much differently.

If he'd come to it at all.

But instead he stood there, looking hurt and dumbfounded.

"With everything else? Are you talking about the templar that attacked an elf and is still walking around scott free? Or perhaps the mage who actually blew up a chantry just being whisked away by the wardens? Is that what you mean?"

"Yes," he said flatly, because what else could he. He had his misgivings about what the Inquisition had decided, wasn't happy with it, but what was the alternative?

There had be more. It couldn't be the same old arguments again. Not again, not here. Not now.

The Inquisition was supposed to be better.

"The mage who blew up a chantry and started a war. The war the Divine was trying to stop when she, and everyone else at the Conclave, were murdered. It's not exactly a small thing."

A dark flush rose to his cheeks and to his ears, sharp and pointed as they lay against his head. He rarely felt the height difference between him and Maxwell, but he did now. It had never been intimidating before.

Never felt the race difference between them, but he did now.

Since the beginning, he'd just always assumed they were on the same side.

He should have known better.

"So, the humans just reignite their war here, too, and now it doesn't matter if an innocent elf is imprisoned?" He asked, hotly. "You're right. How could that possibly be important enough for you to even think about?"

"I didn't say that," Maxwell said quickly, all heat and surprise, his jaw tightening. "But if you're so eager to believe the Inquisition would--"

That he would. Because he could see it then, in the sharpness of Gavin's gaze. A question and answer, as quickly - as easily - as that.

"What did you want from me, Gavin? To just do what humans do? What nobles do? Use my name, my influence... just be a tool for you."

"No I thought you were my friend," Gavin snapped back, the anger and the hurt almost undistinguishable from each other.

"I wanted your help because I thought you would care."

His friend. Had ever such a usually good word sound so damning?

His lips parted, a flash of hurt, before he was sucking in a breath and tightening again, stiffening all the length of his spine as, unbidden, Zevran's old lesson about friends came drifting up from the depths of his memory.

"Lucky then, you have so many friends."

The flush deepened, a dark embarrassed red all through his face, his ears, and down his neck. Looking like he was both wilting and being defiant at the same time.

"Yeah. I guess lucky I do," He replied, sharply, trying to ignore the way his eyes were growing hot.

"I guess I'll go bother one of them and see if they find it important."

Each word was like an individual insult. Each it's own grain of salt, rubbing into the wound the quiet little rumor had opened. The one he'd hoped was only his own foolishness....

But then he'd been proven wrong by so many things lately.

His eyes went distant, still on Gavin, but not really seeing him. A defense he'd honed so well over his years. (It helped, some. But he still felt it, just as he always had with his parents.)

"That might be for the best."

There it was. He'd thought--

No. It didn't matter what he thought.

He just stood there, for a moment, looking both furious and heartbroken, panicked and resigned, his eyes getting hotter by the second.

But Damn Fen'Harel, he would not let Maxwell see him cry.

So he just stared, a moment too long, and then he turned, and ran away.

He almost spoke, right there, at the end. He shifted one small step, took a breath, but Gavin had already turned and whatever might have been strangled in his throat.

For the best.

He'd given up everything, he'd crossed Thedas, he'd tried so hard.... But he was what he was, and it was always going to come to this.

At least he'd had some time. Something good.

If only for a small while.

Slumping, he turned and moved back out into the cold.

The tears started almost the moment he turned his head, but he ran - ran right out of the library, through the kitchen, out into the courtyard, up the stairs, onto the battlements. He didn't look back, and he barely even look where his feet were going, as long as it was away.

He gripped the stone once he reached the top of the wall, his breast fluttering in a panic, the silent tears blurring his vision and making his throat feel thick. Idiot, idiot, idiot. How was he supposed to escape now? If he ran away he'd be a traitor and a fugitive, and Galadriel would be left all on her own and all the other elves would be looked at with suspicion--

But he wanted to run. He felt the instinct as hard and as forcefully as he ever had.

Such an idiot.

Ellana was out in the courtyard when Gavin ran past, so fast she nearly pulled a neck muscle from her head whipping to look. Her heart sank when she saw it was him. What was he running from now? She tamped down any old bitterness she could have felt at the way Gavin had always been and followed him up the stairs, albeit at a slower pace to give him a chance to catch his breath.

Once on the battlements, she approached, dragging her booted feet a little to alert him to her presence.

"Gavin?"

The tears had turned into not-so-silent sobbing, by the time she came up to him, and despite the fact that she was purposely making more noise that usual, he didn't hear her. He just sniffled, rubbing the snot from his nose with his sleeve. He visibily winced when he heard his name, but relaxed a little when he turned his head to see that it was her.

Then he just looked incredibly ashamed and looked away again, sniffing.

"I'm fine." It was the worst lie in the history of lies.

Oh, it must have been really bad to cause Gavin to cry like this. And to lie and say he was fine meant he didn't wish to speak of it. That gave her pause. Whenever she pushed Gavin too hard, he snapped. But she couldn't just leave him here.

Moving up beside him, she slipped her hand into his and looked out at the mountains without saying a word.

He hated anyone seeing him like this, least of all Ellana. Least of all his clan. The whole point was that they were only supposed to see the smiles, the grins, the jokes. This part - he hated this part, and a witness to it...

But she slipped his hand in his and he couldn't stop the sob, shuddering down his spine, as he gripped it.

She drew her thumb back and forth against his skin, fighting the urge to ask for an explanation just yet. She couldn't press him. He seemed so fragile. Certainly more fragile than she had ever seen him before. It probably wasn't something he ever wanted her to see, but she was tired of being the one always left in the dark. Maybe she couldn't make everything all right, but she could at least offer her support and an ear to listen if he did want to talk.

For the moment, she didn't make assumptions or try to guess at what had put him in this state. She waited, looking out at the mountains, and continued making a circular pattern against his skin with the pad of her thumb.

He didn't say anything, his hand incredibly tight around hers, his shoulders shaking as he tried his best to hold back the sobs, the tears blurring his eyes.

Eventually, however, he finally managed to pull himself together (at least somewhat), his breathing ragged but growing more even.

And still she waited; waited until he could breath easier before she dared to speak. This was new territory for her. She was used to his ears drooping and knowing he had somehow gotten himself into a mess, but that didn't fit this time. He had been sobbing. What caused this? Who had hurt him?

"Gavin, what can I do? You're hurting and I want to help you."

"There's nothing to do," he mumbled miserably, his eyes falling to his feet.

"I can't - I can't change anything. I never have been able to."

"What is it that you're trying to change?" she asked, turning her head to look at him stare at his feet. She moved her other hand over to touch his arm above the wrist, giving him all the support she could. In the past, she'd failed to do that, and she hoped that whatever he had to say wasn't something she couldn't support him on. She wanted to, but sometimes Gavin got ideas in his head -- about running away, about drastic actions -- and it was frustrating.

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[closed] There's a million things I haven't done

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For Ellana

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