Gavin paced about the memorial doing his best to not fidget. The new collar on the breastplate cut a bit too tight to his neck but there wasn't much time to try and fix it. By noon's light his mother appeared to be squinting against the sun bounding into the onyx statue's eyes. He'd find it a bit humorous if it didn't seem like something that would make both his parents purse their lips and change the subject.

In order to keep from clicking his nails or jostle the recently sharpened sword at his side, he untucked the letter. All it said was "Meet me at the Memorial, noon tomorrow." Found laying upon his pillow in the squire's living quarters he was a bit baffled but curious and willingly wandered off. He wasn't ditching his duties, though the spark of curiosity would have pushed him to do it either way.

A month and a half had passed since the treason incident. There was some fancy term for it the criers were passing about, but he couldn't remember it. Something about Love's Bloody Curse. It sounded graphic either way and not the sort of thing one should shout in front of children. He'd fallen back under the orders of Ser Daryan who, upon speaking to him after the sentencing only said, "Huh, so I can't even get rid of you with a promotion." That was all. No wondering why he'd do it, or even thanking him for standing by her side. Though Gavin would fear he'd be at the mercy of some demon posing as her should Daryan ever say as such to him.

His parents left a few days after that, once his mother was certain the King would make a full recovery. She'd kissed him on the cheek and wished him luck while his father ran into a starstruck Lambert.

"Are you him?" the squire gasped amazed while gazing up at the man buried in luggage.

"Him who?" Cullen began before turning to the boy and sighing. "Yes, I am him."

Most of the squires seemed shocked that the son of the Commander would in fact have the Commander as his father. Like it was all a lovely theory until the man actually showed up on their doorstep and ordered them around a bit. Cullen tried to walk through the barracks to see where Gavin slept but became mobbed by all the squires who were burning with questions.

Lambert stepped closer, his fingers shaking, "Could you sign this for me?"

"Why not," his father sighed while plucking up the parchment. When he turned it over, Cullen groaned, "It's the blighted sketch, of course it is. I shall be hounded by this until my pyre." But he dashed his signature on it and handed it back to Lambert before saying goodbye to Gavin.

He'd already received two more letters from his parents since that day. They too didn't ask why he never took the knighthood, something he wanted since he was five and tried to heft up his father's longsword. With golden bear helmet spinning on his tiny head, the blade barely made it a foot off the floor before falling back down. The squires wondered, loudly. Why come back to a life of shoveling shit and taking it from the Knights when he could be doling it out himself?

It was a good question. Maybe he could think of a better answer beyond it didn't feel right. One thing he promised to himself, if it didn't feel right he didn't wish to do it. So he wouldn't. Even if...

The dipping sun landed upon the parcel he just finished the night before. Deep into the candle, with the other squires shouting for him to put the light out, he added the last bit and bundled it all up in a bit of paper. He didn't know who sent him the note, but he had a pretty good idea.

Gavin was turned away from the entrance, trying to read through some of his mother's old letters when she was an Arlessa to not appear eager when the door opened. Light seared across the cool entrance, an angel's silhouette blotting it away.

While he wiped away the burn from the sun, she stepped forward and loudly dropped a bag on the floor. "Maker's breath, you're still here!" Myra wrung her hands out as if they required a good wash.

"I am," he stated the obvious while trying to hide away a silly little smile at her.

"That took for-ev-er! Mom kept on telling me what I should do, what I shouldn't do, what I should eat, what I..."

"Shouldn't eat?" Gavin threw out causing her to pause and laugh.

"And Dad. I mean, I knew he could blubber with the best of 'em but it was near constant waterworks. I'm not leaving Ferelden or taking to the sea to become a pirate. Stop being so dramatic," she slapped a hand to her thigh and dented the traveling coat he noticed was the same soft yellow as her mother's.

Silence fell between them, Gavin glancing over at the girl who left a note on his pillow while she seemed to be wringing her hands through the air. Her tongue kept lapping over her lips, weighing the words in her heart. "So," he began, unable to take the pressing tension, "you wanted to meet with me?"

"Yes!" Myra gasped, "Sorry, just... I know things have been crazy busy with me, and you. Wait, is that new? You are super shiny."

He laughed at her sticking her tongue out at the breastplate to try and see herself in it. "It is. I'm to head out to the dwarven kingdom soon and..."

"And Rosie thought you needed new pants, got it. How's she been? Super pain I bet."

"Your sister is, she's rather amenable to any suggestions I may have."

Myra blinked a moment and stuck a hand on her hip. "Really? That's the first I've ever heard. But I'm glad Rosie's being a bit less tyrant now that she's getting some." His cheeks lit up at the mere concept of anyone around him having intimate relations, Gavin trying to dig a finger into the tight neckline to give himself breathing space.

"What about you?" Myra continued. "You ready to go play ambassador for a bit?"

He closed his eyes tight and sighed. "I don't know. Ser Daryan is technically in charge." Myra snorted at her name and wrinkled her nose. She did that when anyone mentioned the Knight now. Her attending wasn't what was weighing most upon Gavin though. "And..." he waffled on his feet, "Cal is coming as well."

"What the shit for?"

"The various nobles think the fact he is himself one means he'll be able to converse with the dwarves better than a commoner such as myself." He managed to say the entire sentence without sneering, which was rather amazing.

"Right, commoner. They're shitting their pants scared that you'll walk all over 'em and steal their thunder. Which you should, by the way. Daryan and Cal, the three of you all the way out to Dwarflandia? And I thought a week of walking behind a flatulent druffalo was a curse."

He was going to miss this, which was probably why they hadn't spoken much since she told him her plans. Even after their romance imploded by his choice, Myra was there. More there than anyone else had been there in ways he could scarcely comprehend at times. But she had her dreams and he had his, even if they did involve Cal sharing a tent with him.

"Well," Myra scampered forward and patted Gavin on the shoulder, "I have faith in you. Also that dwarven queen blighted loves you."

"What?" he blinked in confusion. The Queen had been cordial, but as cold to him as anyone else that was human.

Myra smiled, "Oh yeah. Pretty sure she wants to adopt you. But don't let Rosie make you, even if she'll get something shiny out of the deal."

"I won't," Gavin nodded, the trepidation he felt about this trip and how easily he could fail Ferelden breaking apart. Somehow Myra made the unassailable mountain seem like a grassy hill.

"Anyway, I guess I just wanted to say goodbye to you before I left," she flinched at the end as if she didn't really want to, but he knew she did. She'd been ecstatic about the spells she could learn, the courses the college promised, and some stuffy old elven professor who promised to show her the ropes special. It was the leaving part that stung.

"You'll love it. Mom says she remembers some of your professors a bit. One is really nice and the other is rather surly."

"Which is which?" Myra asked.

"I..." Gavin paled as his eyes darted around, "I can't remember."

"I'll just ask who can tell no lies and who can tell no truth. That'll solve it right quick," she laughed so strongly she was brighter than the sun. He was going to miss her no matter what.

"When are you leaving?" he asked, trying to focus on the here and now.

"Technically, I already left," Myra squinted up her face and jabbed a finger towards the door.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Said my goodbyes to Mom and the gang, Dad, Bryn, Dad again, the siblings, Dad one last time and road out on the wagon until we got to a turn in the road. Leaped off the back and dashed out here."

"Myra, are you trying to run...?"

"Don't be such a worrywart," she waved her hand through the air and, as if it always belonged there, gripped onto his upper arm to calm him. "It's a slow as snot cart. I can catch up to it before it's even made it out of Denerim. I just..." She swallowed hard, her head tipping down while her cheeks burned, "I wanted to say goodbye to you without, without everyone around making a thing about it. That's all."

"Okay," he nodded, glad he wasn't partial to her attempting to flee into the countryside. "I'm glad," Gavin smiled wistfully, "because I wanted to see you one last time too."

Myra smiled bitterly before wrinkling her nose, "I mean, it's not forever, right. A couple years or so up north studying hard. And I'll write all the time."

He tipped his head at her, his lips flattened.

"I swear! I will, every week. Just you see. To you, to mom, to dad. Maybe I can bundle up mom and dad's into one to save on time. Bryn." Myra paused in running out her list of duties as her eyes darted up through her lashes. "I don't want to stop being friends or be as dumb as I was before."

Gavin smiled sweetly even as his heavy heart hung precariously in his chest. "I don't want that either. I mean, I do want to be your friend. I just..." he winced, the words falling from him fast. Myra found it rather humorous, the girl tugging her hand up to her nose and swiping at it as if to say 'I get ya.'

"Well," she turned to glance back at the door, "that druffalo might be slow but it's not dead yet."

"Oh!" he held up a hand for her and picked up the parcel. "Wait a moment. This is..." Aware his voice leaped into the octave of a pre-teen, Gavin tried to drag it back down while laying the package flat in his arms. "This is for you."

"Okay...?" Myra plucked it up and twisted it around a moment, the question growing on her face. Seeming to be certain nothing wild would leap out, she ripped off the paper in one clean go. Ruffling her fingers over the patch of brown fur, Myra gasped, "Is this...?"

With a roll of her hands, she unfurled the cloak. Wool dyed a soft green tumbled to the ground while the brown fur of all the rabbits that fed the caravan circled the collar to keep the wearer warm. "But I thought," she snickered in confusion, her fingers petting the soft fur, "I thought you were making it for you."

"It's far too narrow for my frame," Gavin explained while glancing a hand off of his creation, "I always meant it to be for you. As a birthday present, but then I realized I wouldn't see you then so I had to finish it now. I'm, I'm sorry it's not very fancy and it's just a bit of fur sewn to wool. You can find anything better in the stocks of a merchant on the road..."

His apology faded as Myra swung the cloak up around her shoulders. The soft, brown fur cupped her cheeks while the green that matched her eyes caressed down her body. "Gavin," she smiled wide at him, "I love it."

Forgetting the distance between them, Myra leaned close and puckered her lips to his cheek. He closed his eyes tight, his breath stilling to imprint the last feel of her touch. When it broke from his skin, a cool autumn breeze about to turn to winter filling its place, he opened his eyes. Bright green meadows gazed right beside him.

How easily he could scoop her up in his arms. Cover her in kisses. Forget everything he promised himself, every duty binding up his heart, every wish she had for her life and lay with her right here with only the cloak for a cushion against the cold ground.

Glancing down at his shoes, Gavin whispered, "I'm glad you like it."

She smiled, the moment fading as soon as it appeared. Myra slid back to a safer distance but couldn't stop petting the furry collar to keep her warm. "I do. It's very thoughtful and warm. I feel a right arse for not getting you anything now."

"You'll be at the college, I could always use a rune or two."

"Blighted practical. See, this is why you need me around. I'll be the one to get you a helmet full of fairy floss or something fun. Everyone else can give you the practical gifts," she said with a laugh but it dented and warped from reality. His birthday would arrive soon while she'd be starting the next chapter of her life, as would he. There was no changing that, not that either of them really wished to.

"You should probably go, so you don't have to run all the way out of the city," he wouldn't let himself tear up while saying goodbye. Myra deserved a strong front.

"Yeah," she tugged at her hair that was back in its braid. "I guess I should. It's been great," she reached out with her hand and he took it. They didn't shake, that seemed too informal, but he held her tiny fingers for a few beats while they stared into each other's eyes.

Hefting up her luggage, she jabbed a thumb behind her while she waltzed backwards. Her eyes wouldn't leave Gavin even as her body did. "I will write though. I swear. All the time, though...if you don't hear from me for a few weeks just send a curt message telling me to check my damn mail. In case. Things might get busy."

At the door she paused, her eyes drifting up and down his body. "Bye, Gavin."

"Goodbye, Myra," he waved as she spun on her heels and good on her word broke into a run to catch her abandoned ride. The wool cloak billowed out behind her like a green ribbon trailing that impossible girl.

It could have gone so much more different. He could have lied to himself, accepted the knighthood without question, bedded Myra when she wished and given her his heart. Perhaps even happily, he wasn't certain. Another life, it could have been a happy one - much easier than what he faced ahead of himself now. But something told him this wasn't the last time he'd see her, that pretty girl from the city who gave him his first kiss.

His eyes darted up to the statue, his mother always gazing to the west to watch over Ferelden. With a spring in his step, he walked out into the light prepared to take on his duties with an open heart.

THE END