slipshot | IC INBOX for FADE RIFT

He'd wallowed for a while; he wasn't too big to admit that. But he knew he had to Gavin, even before Sam had reminded him so firmly. He'd spoken to his Galadriel, and to Cassandra, and there was something Gavin needed to know before he did - whatever it was he'd come to him hoping to do before it had all gone so badly.

He also knew Gavin wasn't likely to listen, regardless, anymore, but he had to try. Whatever else, he still cared - he wanted Gavin to be safe....

Not that elf made it easy. It had been difficult sometimes to find him even before they'd argued, now, it was next to impossible. But he kept at it, determined, and finally he spotted a familiar mop of red hair and jogged toward it before it could slip away.

"Gavin."

The ears drooped almost immediately, but he didn't run. He had been meaning to speak to Maxwell, too - had promised Sam that he would - he just... hadn't really worked up the courage yet. So he kind of wilted as the man spotted him first, jogging over, and the very familiar flutter of panicked flight took to his chest - but he didn't run.

"Maxwell." It wasn't a hard word, but a soft one, a hesitant one.

He knew what he wanted to do - find Gavin, talk to him - but he hadn't worked out any of the finer details. So as he came to stop beside him, there was an awkward pause. A breath, and then nothing. Maxwell's eyes lingering on his face, noting with pang that he didn't seem particularly happy to see him.

Not that he'd expected him to, really. But to be missed a little...

"I-- can we talk?" He glanced away, at the people lingering around them. None of them were really paying attention, but it still seemed - too much. "Alone?"

"Ah - yes, of course," he said, his voice still quiet, swallowing as he looked back behind him, and then nodded to a little darkened alcove, a few feet away.

He didn't say anything until they'd slipped around the corner, out of sight from everyone.

"What - what did you want to talk about?"

I'm sorry. I miss you. I didn't really mean it.

He thought them all, but he didn't say them. Too much a coward, expecting Gavin wanted to hear them even less.

"I spoke with Galadriel," he said instead. The things that really mattered. "And with Seeker Pentaghast. I found out more about what happened, some things I think you should know."

"Oh." He tried not to sound disappointed, but he couldn't help it. Not here to see him, really, just to continue and argument that Gavin wanted to run away from as fast as he possibly could.

He'd already made up his mind.

But Sam had said that there would be things he didn't want to hear, and Gavin did want to try, so.

"What are they?"

His heart sank at the tone, but he pushed himself on. Steeled himself for the worst.

"It's not as straight forward as it initially sounded. She was arrested for failing to take an oath, they both admit that. But Cassandra says the oath was a promise to do no harm. Galadriel threatened the Inquisition, and couldn't be talked down. That's why she's in that cell."

Gavin's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes sliding away to study a wall.

"Galadriel wouldn't hurt us," He said, firmly, after a very long moment. "They haven't made anyone else swear an oath to do no harm." As he spoke, he grew more sure of it, the doubt decreasing as he went on. "Do you have any idea how many threats we get here, every day, from random soldiers? From refugees? I know I'm not safe here, but I'm here anyway, because I believed in it. Galadriel didn't hurt anyone, regardless of what she may or may not have said. That Templar did hurt Beleth. And Anders did blow up a Chantry. It doesn't change anything, Maxwell. All it means is that they would rather lock up one of the greatest hopes we have, than trust an elf with that kind of power."

Maxwell let out a breath. He'd expected this. Hadn't figured Gavin would believe him.

"I don't disagree, Gavin. I don't think Anders should be free, but as much as it pains me, it's not the Inquisition's choice. The Wardens have imminent domain as he is one, and they cannot take him without declaring war with them. The Templar..." He shook his head. "All I'm saying, is that Cassandra believes Galadriel is a threat. And Gavin, she is from another world, she is powerful, she does have a rift shard. I just..."

But what more could he say? Gavin had made up his mind.

"Please be careful."

Edited 2016-03-22 22:03 (UTC)

"A lot of the rifters are powerful. A lot of the mages are powerful. But they're allowed their freedom. They're even allowed to have their own council. If she honestly thinks Galadriel is a threat she should say so, to all of us, not just--" He faltered there, biting his tongue and looking away. "-- Not just you. You aren't the only one who asked, Maxwell. We tried to ask too, and were told to mind our own business."

He doesn't say 'but you're a human, so it's different', but he feels it. Feels it more keenly now than he ever had with Maxwell before.

"She doesn't belong in there, Maxwell. It's killing her."

"And many other rifters have been questioned since. Many mages. And none of them have been arrested." He looked at Gavin plaintively, feeling the conversation slip, seeing the accusation come again into Gavin's face.

The blame.

"...I'm sorry, Gavin. I don't know what can be done."

And truthfully, he'd said what he'd meant to, and had gotten the reaction he'd expected. He should just go.

He looked away, considering Maxwell's words carefully, though they didn't change his mind. He wet his lips, unthinkingly.

"... Thank you," he said finally, quietly, before turning his gaze to meet Maxwell's, sad and resigned.

"For trying."

He hadn't expected that, but the expression was no more encouraging that it had been a moment ago.

"You're welcome," he said softly. He watched him for a beat longer, took a breath, "I--"

And let it out again with a sad duck of his head.

"I'll leave you be."

"I'm sorry," he interrupted before Maxwell could finish his sentence.

"I didn't- I didn't mean it like - like you heard it." He didn't meet Maxwell's eyes this time, the panic making that impossible. Damn Sam for getting in his head.

"When I called you my friend."

His heart so heavy he could feel it in his boots, he'd started to step back, only to stop short when Gavin spoke again. He looked up, mouth open slightly in surprise.

Swallowing, he stepped back.

"...What did you mean?"

"Sam said- he said you thought that I meant- that you were only my friend, that you wanted more-- but you are more. You are, you'll just always first and foremost be my friend, Maxwell. I-- I know I've never been a good friend, exactly, but I-- we could lose everything else, but I don't want to lose that--"

He was rambling and he knew it, the words tumbling over each other, senseless.

"I don't know how to be much else, but I will try--"

Sam. Maker bless him, flitting around like one of those good spirits in the stories, trying to help.

"There's nothing wrong with being your friend, Gavin. I want us to be friends. I just-- when I have a lover, my other friends are just that. Friends. ...And I heard about you, and Zevran. About the kiss. And I saw you at the soiree." His head ducked, eyes slipping away. "I can't do that kind of lover. I want to mean something, to someone."

Just once.

"What?" He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What kiss?"

Had he kissed Zevran at the party? He was pretty sure he hadn't--

But then Maxwell kept talking, and Gavin's heart sank. Mean something, to someone. Is that what the problem was? That Gavin didn't care enough?

It was like stepping into the past, and just as impossible to escape. Maxwell meant a lot to him, but... He'd already proven to himself that his feelings weren't right.

If he felt things properly, he would have stayed in the clan. Would have married Pel, would have been a good father. But he was none of these things. And he wasn't good enough for Maxwell, either.

"I do care," he protested, but it was faint, and miserable.

He hadn't even realized what they had actually been fighting about, until that moment, and he had nothing to defend himself with.

"In the courtyard? You were rolling about, laughing, kissing..." He trailed off. The image not one he particularly liked to dwell on. "Then at the soiree, I tried to talk you, but you were dancing and looked happy..."

He looked at the tip of his boots. Much as he had then.

"I understand monogamy isn't for everyone. And I don't blame you, I knew there was someone from the start-- I saw the bruise, that first day. And I remember that night, during the tourney, so I knew you already weren't terribly interested... but I thought I could try." His jaw worked. He blinked quickly. "I wanted to change for you, but I fell--"

He cut himself off, squeezing his eyes closed to collect himself before looking up.

"I'm sorry."

"We were just-- that was nothing--" he tried to say, but Maxwell kept going, an his heart sank further. He had thought he was being monogamous. Did that mean he could have fun with his friends? Couldn't dance with other people?

"What night during the tourney?" He asked miserably, completely not understanding. "I didn't-- I didn't ask you to change, Maxwell, you didn't have to, we were fine--"

"The last night," Maxwell sighed, and stepped past Gavin to lean against the wall, feeling physically worn down by the weight of the conversation. But the unrelenting feeling that it wasn't getting better, but only worse. "I heard you, come up to the door, and I waited... but you walked away. It seemed pretty clear."

"I thought-- I thought it would hurt more," Gavin murmured miserably. "I didn't want to make it worse..."

He shouldn't have opened his mouth.

Maxwell blinked, confused.

"Make what worse?"

"Leaving."

He was looking squarely at his feet, his ears dropped low.

"I knew I had to leave, and I thought - why not, say goodbye-- but I got there and it just... I couldn't do it, I couldn't just leave, if I stayed with you that night, it would have hurt so much--"

Maxwell's mouth opened, but he said nothing, not for a long moment. His breathe came, and went, and he had to drag at another.

"That's why you didn't--?" he murmured. "And all this time I thought...."

He looked up, emotion dark in his eyes.

"And now it is me. Such a fool... I'm sorry, Gavin. I thought--"

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