slipshot | IC INBOX for FADE RIFT

"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--"

"It's fine," Gavin said quickly, but his ears didn't prick, his eyes didn't look up. He just stood, looking dejectedly at his shoes. He hadn't really heard Maxwell's words, or at least,

"It's okay, Maxwell. I understand, I do. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want you to be sad, so if this - If I'm not good, it's okay."

It wasn't. It was anything but okay, but what was he going to say? He always managed to hurt everyone. His clan had reminded him of that from nearly the day he was born. It was inevitable. There was no reason Maxwell should stick around for more of it.

"Gavin--"

He pushed off the wall then, and reached out, a hand finding Gavin's arm as he stepped closer.

"...I have something for you."

He'd debated on when to give it to him, had wondered after their fight if he might have lost the chance forever, but this - this was the moment he'd waiting for. He could see that now.

Reaching into his coat, he drew out the locket, heavy and shining, the engraved star glinting. Digging deeper, he withdrew a small leather pouch and held it out.

"Take it, and if after you want to talk more, we can. And if you don't-- I'll understand. But you should have it."

Gavin did look up then, confused - the derailment a surprise and one he didn't understand, catching the glint of the locket, before Maxwell held out the pouch. He just looked at him, confused, but did finally reach out, taking the pouch in his hands and looking down at it.

"What... what is it?" He asked quietly, as he began to open it.

He waited a beat, holding his breath, for Gavin to pull out the second necklace. It was simple, but as elegantly and painstakingly cut as the locket.

A thin chain, and a polished silver star.

"They fit together," he explained, reaching out to lift the charm to the front of the locket, slipping the star into the grooves made by the engraving. "I thought-- we travel by stars, find our way. We were separate, but we found each other, through the years and the distance, and now, maybe - through this?"

It was beautiful, lying in his palm, glinting, but he still looked confused, and now almost hurt.

"I thought - I thought you just said that you didn't want me anymore," Gavin said miserably, looking at him. "You said - you said you tried to change and couldn't do this, even though I didn't ask you to change--"

"I never said I didn't want you, Gavin," he replied softly, slowly lowering the charm back to Gavin's palm. "I-- I wasn't sure you wanted me. Not as I am. Not-- the way I wanted you."

He looked down at the charm and took a breath before meeting Gavin's eyes again. He might have been standing there naked, for the way that look tore at him. For as vulnerable as he felt.

"When I heard about you and Zevran kissing, I wasn't sure what it meant, as to me it's something special. And then you insisted on calling me a friend, when I know you call him the same, I thought that was your way of telling me that you wanted him too."

"Zevran is my friend," he murmured, finally raising his eyes to meet Maxwell's. "But it wasn't - we were wrestling, Maxwell, that was all. I kissed him because I was fond, not--"

He faltered, fingers curling to grasp the star tightly in his palm.

"Not because I want him like I want you. I care about him, I care about all my friends, but I - but I love you, Maxwell. I didn't realise you didn't know that."

Maxwell went still, eyes widening, searching Gavin's as his words hung between them. His heart thumped so hard against his ribs, he thought they might and it would leap free and be laid bare.

"I didn't," he whispered. "But I hoped..."

He took a step closer, reached gently to find Gavin's free hand and take it in his own. His fingers trembling as they wrapped around his.

"Because I love you. I have, for a long time."

It was something that he already knew - something that, unlike Maxwell, perhaps even took for granted. He had felt it, nearly every day since they'd been reunited. He hadn't really thought the words themselves would matter.

He was wrong.

His heart thumped, hard, restarting with a sudden rush after it had refused to beat, tightening his throat, a heat behind his eyes.

"... Yeah, I know." The words are very quietly, his fingers not trembling, exactly, but cautious as they threaded into Maxwell's. "... I guess I probably should have mentioned it before."

His eyebrows twitched, raising slightly, and he made a small sound, not quite a laugh.

"I might not have been as foolish," he murmured, "but it's not as if I said it either."

IC INBOX for FADE RIFT

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