"Are you some kind of Satinalia fairy? One that loves hanging out on roofs in order to...stuff cheese into people's stockings?"
Gavin chuckled a moment as he pulled his knee tight to his chin. He sat near the chimney's pipes, which had to give him a modicum of warmth, but the foolish boy didn't even bother to put a cloak on. Dressed in the under tunic and breeches he stripped down to in order to sleep, his eyes swung over towards Myra. The amber pinpricks were all she could see through the waning moonlight.
That wouldn't do. Waving her fingers, she drew up a spark of veil fire right on top of the snow itself. Gavin shifted a moment, as if afraid the fire might be real and he'd have to douse it, but as the blue light licked across him he calmed. "Did I wake you?"
"No," Myra smiled as she stepped around the boy still sitting on the top of a roof in the midst of winter in his pajamas. "It's perfectly normal to hear people trudging up here to squat in the snow."
Gavin snorted, but made no move to answer, those haunting eyes drifting around the tumbling blues of the snow. With a sigh, Myra plopped down beside him and reached for his hand. "Sweet Maker, you're freezing!" she gasped and shook her head. Opening up the spell, she willed the warmth inside of her through him.
His eyes closed as he breathed in the bit of internal fire she gifted him. Myra knotted her fingers around his as she scooted to someplace comfortable. "Don't let go of me and it should keep going."
Those curls shifted in his nod, knocking about like a trail of ribbons in the wind. Myra chewed on her lip and glanced away to keep herself from doing something stupid like grabbing onto them. "Oh right," absently shaking her head, she yanked the blanket off her shoulders and placed it on top of both of their legs. His remained curled up against his chest while hers crossed to match her attempt at a comfortable sit.
Wind as crisp as biting into an apple wafted over their faces and Myra took in a deep breath. The smell of life flooded her nose, far stronger than anything in the College. Blessed Maker, but she missed it, her heart knocking about at how stupidly happy the scent of smelting iron and latrine holes could make her.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, her eyes darting to the man who fell quiet.
He sighed, "Insomnia. I'm sorry for waking you."
"It's no problem. As long as we don't wake those two," she placed a hand over her mouth and pointed down. "But I've all but run back and forth up here and Dad can sleep through anything. I'm surprised he didn't miss the blight by taking a nap or something."
The poor boy snickered a moment, clearly struggling to feel beyond the rot where his heart had to be. But the laugh passed so quickly, it may as well have not happened. Why did she have to be so bad at this? His mom, she was the one who was good at all this stuff. Healing the pains.
There was a day in her early training when Myra was so stupidly homesick, she wanted to puke in a bucket. She tried to suck it up because she did not want to deal with the wrath of her mother for being kicked out. But Lady R took one look at the teenage girl barely able to smile and called off the lessons for the day. It was a bit weird to sit with someone as old as her dad, but she made it easier. As dumb as it sounded, rather than wait for Myra to spill her guts while leaving her alone, Lady R invited her to help make cookies.
By around the scooping one half of a spoonful onto the sheet and the other into your mouth, Myra came clean. There were less tears with so much dough jammed in her mouth.
Too bad she didn't have any cookies, or baked goods in general to cram in there now.
"How are you doing?" Myra whispered, her eyes darting away from her own handful of memories to the man under a deluge of them. "Really how are you doing?"
Gavin's white teeth flashed as he bit into his lip, right next to the new scar. "It hurts. It always hurts, even when...even when I feel lighter while I'm distracted. Like," he shook his head and sighed, "like it'll never leave."
"I'm sorry," she said, her eyes honing in on their hands locked together in a bond of the spell. Her fingers lay limply in his palm while he kept absently cinching up around hers. "I can't even begin to imagine..." So much loss in so little time. He'd had what? Four months to process his mother dying, and then at best two for his dad as well. How cruel could the Maker be?
"Thank you," the voice she'd upgraded from a coconut milk bath to luxurious satin sheets whispered.
"For..." Myra shook her head, fully lost, "for what?"
The man shrugged, "I don't know, I just..." His amber eyes turned up and that same intense stare that drove right into her heart flared up, "I'm grateful you're here."
"Me too," she patted against the back of his hand sealed inside of hers.
Both of the friends turned away, Myra knowing a dumb blush was burning on her cheeks. Ah shit! She tried to tamp down on the spell. If she wasn't careful her embarrassment could all but spark someone on fire. It teetered a bit in her clumsy fingers, like a wind whipping a candlelight back and forth. Screwing up her eyes, she finally managed to get it to an acceptable level.
"Are you here for the wedding?" Gavin asked as if that was his most pressing concern in life. Did he not even feel Myra messing around with the fire?
Focus! "Ah, sort of. The holiday too. Mom insists I always come back for Satinalia..."
"Because it's your birthday," Gavin smiled and she returned it. Few remembered, or made a big fuss, but he did. Every year there'd be some silly little gift just for her birthday left on the agency's stoop or sent to the college.
Absently, Myra dug into her neck and shrugged, "I think Mom likes to remind me how much pain I put her through before I was even born. Then she begins the long list of all the pains that happened after."
Gavin snorted at her deflection, but he sighed, "She loves you."
"Yeah," Myra licked her lips, "I know. We just...we pick to show we care. We're a very picking family." Maker's breath, you sound like a dung eating moron. Picking family? What does that even mean? Stop talking, if you stop talking maybe he won't flee in terror from your unending mouth.
The boy didn't leap to his feet and then leap off the roof to escape. Instead, he shifted a bit closer to Myra, his eyes trailing along her neck a moment before he smiled, "I was surprised to see you still wear that rabbit fur."
"Oh," the blush erupted into a ten alarm fire, Myra tucking against the gap of her tunic as if the brown rabbit fur yet caressed her cheek. "Yeah, it...uh. It's really nice and soft. But I didn't have much use for a cloak and everyone had these fancy robes in the college with buckles or bits of flair festooned across them. So I thought that I could maybe repurpose the rabbit fur as a collar and then...um, wear it all the time?"
Shit. Did that look bad? Like she hated his gift? The cloak was nice, plain but she didn't mind that. It just had a habit of frilling out behind when she ran, and you were kinda touched in the head if you wore a cloak inside all the time. With the robe she could nestle against the fur whenever she tried to doze off in class.
Gavin smiled to himself, "I'm glad that you like it."
"I do, it's..." It makes her think of him. Even when she's not supposed to, sometimes when she's really not supposed to, but he pops in there. Like an old bottle bobbing in the sea, nothing could sink it.
Which was not something she should say to him right now. Or maybe ever. "It's very warm, and nice. I already said it was nice, didn't I?"
"There's nothing wrong with nice," he said softly before a great smile rose on his lips. More infectious than the blight, Myra began to chuckle at his little joke and reference to himself. She meant it as much now as ever, he was so damn nice it could hurt.
Hurt her heart more than anything.
"Will you..." Gavin extended his leg out and began to sway the tip of his unshod toe back and forth, "Will you be returning to the college after the prince's nuptials?" A simple question no doubt for him, but Myra pursed her lips in consternation. He watched her reaction and added, "You don't have to tell me if you don't wish to..."
"No, it's..."
Myra ran a hand back through her sheared hair and groaned as it fanned out against the nape of her neck. "I don't know. My research is nearing its end, what I've gotten to at least." Gavin nodded his head with her. She'd tell him all about her forays into rune crafting and out of everyone she wrote letters to, he was probably the only to ask pointed questions back. All that time growing up with a mage, probably.
"But my lead enchanter thinks we could easily charm the Grand Council into giving us more money to extend it."
"Another year?" he turned to her, those amber eyes all but dancing by the veilfire.
Myra winced at a chord of hope twanging in his voice. "Five. Probably more because one year in academia really means two, if you're lucky."
"That..." whatever fire burned in Gavin faded in an instant, his chin collapsing to his chest as he stared in fascination at his toes. They undulated in a sad wave through the cold.
"But I," Myra groaned and dug the palm of her hand into her eyes, "I'm not sure if I want to take it. Another five years up there? That's a lot."
"It is a commitment."
"Yeah," she snorted, "Not that the college isn't great. It's been fun getting to learn so much magic, find I'm actually good at something other than digging through people's trash and know who's cheating on whom."
Gavin shifted, his hand slipping out of Myra's and cutting him off from the spell. The cold had to overtake him so fast, he sucked in a gasp of surprise. "You like it there."
Reaching out quick, she scooped his hand back in hers to revive him before he froze to death. "I like some parts of it. I...I like parts of Denerim too." She risked a small smile, her eyes darting up past the fringe of her hair to Gavin's. He was busy looking down at the handhold he let fall slack, but his lips were clearly chewing through something on his mind.
"And..." she sighed, "my parents are, ya know. I keep thinking it's time I returned, for them. To help when I could, in case..." Fuck, she should not be saying this to him. Not be telling him that 'So, when I found out your Mom died I damn well had a panic attack imagining losing mine and am thinking of moving back home.'
Cursing at herself for being so callow, Myra stared up at the stars to try and find any new subject. But Gavin reached over and cupped her elbow. It drew her eyes right into his and he smiled, "I understand completely."
He was too damn nice. But she was so grateful for it. Smiling at his kindness, Myra tried to put away all the solipsistic thoughts rolling around in her brain. Talking about herself was boring anyway. What was there to say? Love life? Dead. Work life? Well, I found that if you heat a fire rune to just the right temperature you can cause it to spontaneously combust. And then you're picking rune bits out of the walls for weeks while a very pissed off elf taps her toe at you.
"Myra," Gavin shifted a bit but his hand remained locked tight to her arm, "I need to tell you, there's something I've been wanting to..." Whatever came next whipped away on the cold, winter winds. He stared out at the Denerim horizon, most of it nestled in the comforting embrace of shadows save a few chimneys silhouetted by the moon.
"What is it?" Myra asked. The fear wafting off him had her so concerned she too gripped back onto his arm as if to keep him steady. Maker, he damn well better not be dying too, or so help her she was going to storm the veil itself!
Gavin swallowed hard, the notch in his throat bobbing a bit before amber eyes washed over her. "Why I didn't write to you for the past...six months or so."
"Because you were grieving, you didn't know what to say."
A snort rolled out of his nose and he shook his head, "No. I told myself that, but I know why." Andraste, whatever was chewing him up was huge and...it involved her. Required apologizing to her? Slamming her eyes closed, Myra prayed 'Please don't be married. Please don't be married.'
"For the past five years, I've cherished your friendship," Gavin began and Myra's heart stopped dead. Fuck! No one starts with the cherishing friendship thing unless they want to dump you. "Been happy that you found your calling in the college and...grew to greater heights even if it was so far away."
Internally Myra was screaming, her body wanting to jump up and flee into the night. But she remained fixed, her face rigid even while having to face a dumping from someone she wasn't even dating. Who the hell was he with now to warrant this? How'd it get so serious this fast? And why didn't anyone warn her before? Damn it, Bryn!
"But," Gavin dangled the word in the air, his breath growing into stockier smoke with each puff. "I've missed you beyond belief."
"Wh...what?" Was that how these went? She'd expected a 'but I'm betrothed to a fellow knight and we're running off to get married tonight. Would you be our witness?' This was confusing beyond measure.
Clearly not catching on to Myra's fully lost face, Gavin continued on in a blubber as if the plug was finally yanked out of the dam. "I lived for your days back in Denerim, for a sight of you dashing over the rooftops and sliding into the palace windows. Just a hint of your scent on the wind."
What in the void was going on?
"Myra, I..." his tongue flopped back and forth over his teeth, weighing the heavy words squatting inside his throat. With a shake of his head and a shrug, he looked right into her eyes, "I love you."
"You do what now?" she gasped.
"And I've felt terrible about it. Because it's not my place to take you away from your life, from your future. To put that burden on you," Gavin was in full on exposition mode while Myra sat there dumbstruck, her brain repeating the word 'love' over and over. "When my mom died I couldn't escape the thoughts. Of how I wished more than anything that you were there with me. To be more than a shoulder to cry on, to be more than a friend."
More than a friend? He loves me? But...
"Every letter I began broke down into me confessing the truth, every one I couldn't send because you deserved to hear it aloud. From my lips. While sitting on a roof in our sleepwear," his runaway carriage paused as he glanced around at the ridiculous setting. "Myra, I love you."
He loves me. He loves me enough to say it twice without me saying anything back. You've fallen dumb again, haven't you? Someone restart Myra, her gears are stuck!
The unbridled hope shining in his amber eyes faded at her gawping mouth. Gavin shifted away, his head falling as he sputtered, "And I understand fully if you...if it's far too long past and there are no feelings on--"
Leaping through the air, Myra's burning fingers wrapped tight to his cheeks. Barely pausing to make certain she didn't whack into his nose with her honker, she tugged him and herself together. When his lips struck hers, all the churning turmoil in her stomach erupted into glittering butterflies. Gavin wrapped a hand around the nape of her neck, cradling her head safe as those succulent lips she dreamed of kissing again softened like butter.
Maker's breath, he tasted even better than before. Where it was all steel and vigor with a spark of energy when they were younger, now it'd matured like a good wine. A comfort smoothed out the clash of the steel like comfy snuggles by a fire, but that spark was there. It was always there, lighting up her belly better than any other lover Myra ever let near her bed.
Gavin gasped a moment, his eyes shooting open. "What of the College?"
Shrugging and laughing at the same time, Myra shouted, "Fuck the college," before diving back to kissing this incredibly nice and chiseled god of a man. Their sweet kisses of remembrance snapped and crackled, Gavin quick to plumb the depths of her mouth with his hot tongue. Blessed Maker, now he tasted like going at it on the rug because you're too stoked to take the time to shove books off the bed. One hand cupped tight to her cheek while the other wafted away from their handhold in order to draw higher up her thigh.
Myra's brain flashed up thoughts of just how high she wanted his fingers, but with her hand freed her first stop was right to his bicep. The left first as it was closest and, sweet blood of Andraste, bigger than her neck. Probably. Who cared? It sure felt like it, the muscle harder than a mountain as she dug in and sli
ghtly squealed.
How many nights did she lie in her bed and fantasize about kissing him again? About getting it right and going beyond anything they ever managed? He was certainly in there more than any of her boyfriends.
And now his fingers were softly trailing up and down her thigh. At the knee, Gavin would walk his three fingers up the thin pants clinging to her leg. She wished she'd worn nothing but the baggy tunic just to feel his bare skin upon hers. To have him swoop those clever fingers around the muscle of her thigh until it found the inner padding and then...
Oh Maker, she wanted to fuck him.
"Gavin," Myra shifted and broke away from the kiss. "Wait, this..."
His lips hung pursed a moment and by the void did he look achingly adorable like that. But as he realized she wasn't about to return to him, his eyes opened and he stared at her. "What's wrong?"
"You're in mourning. You're in...tremendous pain. I can't in good conscience take advantage of you. Even if I really, really, really..." Her traitorous eyes darted down his body, that chest that would put most sculptures to shame, and landed on his crotch where the obvious bulge she'd thought of way too much called to her. "No," Myra tried to tug herself back from the brink, "this is wrong. I don't want to hurt you."
"You're not," he smiled sadly, his fingers parting through the top of her hair until a palm curled against her cheek. She pressed into it, losing herself in his eyes even while Myra shook her head.
"You're afraid, I get it. To be alone, to lose so much. To lose people. But...that doesn't mean you should throw away your hard work, your," she swallowed hard, shifting on her knees she foolishly almost straddled him with. "Your promise."
It was why Myra tried to move on. Gavin said his peace, warned her that he wouldn't be ready to become physical with anyone until he truly fell in love. And she didn't see a reason to sit around in her room at the top of the tower waiting for him. Even if all of her attempts to get out there were epic disasters in one way or another.
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