Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It has only been a few days since the elder brain was defeated, and I am still adjusting to the relative normality which has descended quite quickly. Unwilling to start back on the open road immediately, Gale and I have spent many happy hours sequestered away in a room in the Elfsong Tavern, much to Shadowheart’s open delight and Astarion’s sarcastic comments about sending a search party if we did not emerge soon.

With immediate danger now removed, we can finally enjoy each other’s company in full, replicating – as best we could – “the Art of the Night”. As Gale has so eruditely put it; “exploration and acceptance of the self and the other”, and we are certainly well into both the exploration and acceptance phases. We spend hours in the candlelight, safe and secure in a warm, dry room, exploring all the facets of each other’s bodies. Each mole and freckle is noted, each scar tenderly traced, memorising the canvas of our lover’s body and adoring what makes them unique. The small indigo flecks in his brown eyes as he gazes into mine, the way purple light coruscates across the orb scar, the gentle smiles that he keeps only for me, which are both a mixture of joy and surprise that here we are, me and him, absolutely together.

The closed doors are certainly a necessity. Gale has been taking great joys in proving himself to be the most generous of lovers. Away from the dusty camp, where sneaking away to enjoy each other had become a burdensome necessity, he is taking to the exploration of my body as he does with his study of magic – in a thorough, determined way intended to reach absolute perfection in the subject. He spends hours making me writhe on sweaty sheets as he torments areas of my body with peaks of pleasure until I scream out his name. I watch the delighted grin on his face as he files each new success away, silently promising me more next time.

a few days after the epic battle, we wake, naked, entangled with each other, legs entwined and my head resting on his chest, listening to the gentle beat of his heart.

“Today is the day I feel.” Gale's soft voice into the dim light of the room makes me start. “Today I take the crown to Mystra and we will truly be finished with this whole harrowing interval and can start anew.”

“She summoned you?” our voices are low, almost reverent in a room where the thick brocade curtains hold back the start of the day.

“In a manner.” His hand strokes my hair. “it’s like a whisper on the edge of my thoughts, intrusive and determined.”

I sit up and look down at him, dark hair on the pillow and those intense eyes looking straight at me. My heart skips, as it often does when I look at him like this, naked and vulnerable in our bed, languid and soft, relaxed and still in the half grip of sleep. I know that I am staring with frankly lascivious eyes and he likes it. One hand lifts to gently circle my nipple and I sigh, relaxing into the touch as though it is the first time he’s done it.

“I’m just glad she’s stopped sending Elminster as her carrier pigeon. It would ruin the moment somewhat if he were to walk in now.” He smiles, lifting his head and drawing my nipple into his mouth, a gentle flick across the surface building a warmth in my groin that suffuses my whole body.

I groan, already struggling to remain sitting up, and with the gentlest of touches he pushes me down onto the rumpled sheets and within a moment he is above me, hands either side of me, his muscular body above mine. I reach down, eager to touch him, but he grabs both my hands, holding them above my head.

“Not this morning my love.”, he holds my hands down on the bed as my breathing speeds up. “much as I enjoy all the breath-taking delights you bestow on me, this morning I want you writhing beneath me, begging for me. I want your mind dwelling on nothing but me and my touch. I want this to be my worship of your body. You are my goddess, my world and in this one moment there is only you and me, and the here and now.”

I know deep down that any audience with Mystra fills him with a complex miasma of feelings, and this moment of reasserting our connection is as necessary to him as it is to me. Mystra is still a mighty presence between us, and in this act he seeks to dimmish her, lifting me onto the pedestal where she once stood.

He lowers his face, kissing my neck and biting gently, listening for the catch in my breath. After a flurry of kisses on my neck he proceeds again lower, his mouth to my breasts, his hands still holding mine captive, forcing me to submit to his ministrations, holding me in thrall. He draws a nipple into his mouth, practiced tongue swirling around the erect nubbin of flesh. As per his demands I writhe – breathless - and I feel the pleasure radiating from him like a sun. Each breast is worshipped, an act of devotion that he takes to with a blissful joy. He continues downward, a row of tiny kisses to my bellybutton. Whispering a word, he looks up at me and smiles, as I feel his fingers making slow circles on my hips. The hands above me holding me down are now opaque constructs of blue energy, leaving his own mortal flesh free for more important things.

His mouth is now on my thighs, kissing them, and I try to open my legs, but his own legs clasp them shut. We are on Gale’s time here, not mine, and he will play my body with the music of his choice. The frustration I feel at not having that hard length moving within me is making me pant. He loves this, loves seeing my desire for him in my face.

He teases one finger between my closed folds, feeling me awash with my desire. Lifting the slick finger to his lips he sucks my juices from that one playful digit, and I groan. It’s killing me.

He moves his legs inside mine and I stretch open for him, delightfully wide, begging him with my body to satisfy this burning inside me that only he can reach. His mouth returns to my thighs, kissing me gently, nibbling on the taut flesh, leaving the core of my being, so open and so unfulfilled.

There is a cold breath on my groin, the softest teasing exhalation that makes my skin tingle.

“I want to see” I gasp, and with another word a pillow floats over, and slides beneath my head, lifting me comfortably so that I can his dark head between my thighs, where he is delighting in the torment he is causing me. I know he loves me to watch. Loves me to see him between my legs.

Then there is the sensation of a tongue on that small bud of flesh. One small taste, the merest lick, but after the teasing it sends me to the edge. I make a guttural moan, almost none human. The touch continues, his warm tongue circling and playing, still teasing. There is the merest hint of teeth, a graze over that sensitive button of flesh.

It's almost too much, I try to lift my hips off the bed to meet his mouth. My body is as finely stretched as a violin string, vibrating under him. It’s almost a sense of insanity. I will do anything to be sated now and I can hear my voice, gravelly with desire, begging him, pleading with him to fuck me.

His tongue laps at me, his talented fingers taking their previous place, that pleasurable nubbin still being stroked and manipulated. His beard tickles me as his tongue dives into that hungry space between my legs, pushing as far as it can into my depths before returning to worship the outer areas.

All thought is gone from me. In my mind is just a litany of begging; 'please, please, please, oh gods please’

His tongue retracts, leaving me empty, but returning to it’s former location, that teasing swirling serpent that is tormenting me. But now, one solitary digit slides inside me, between these sodden folds of flesh, where I gush with desire. It is joined by a second, stretching me slightly, but not enough, still not enough. I am bucking my hips and I know he drinks in my desperation. He has made my body his own, the patterns of my desire are laid out as plain to him as the weave, and just as magical.

“Gods, please Gale, please.” I strain against the hands that hold me, but I don’t really want to be released. It’s part of the game, this is what we both want. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other - my body is his and his is mine. Right now I am not even sure where my body ends and his begins. I am just aware of this burning need that started in my groin and now suffuses my whole being.

There is nothing but him right now. Nothing but him and my burning need for him.

“Please.” My voice is almost a croak.

He crawls up the bed towards me, leaving me untouched, and it is almost unbearable. “tell me what you want?” he whispers in my ear.

“I want you.” I am almost inarticulate.

“Tell me exactly what you want” he kisses me, and I can taste my juices on his face and beard.

“I want you inside me,” I squirm, desperate.

He retreats down my body, kneels between my legs one finger gently stroking my folds, lingering at the top where I am most sensitive. “Beg me” he smiles up at me.

“please, Gale, Gods please” I love that smile, he knows my body so well. He knows I would scream loud enough to wake the entire inn if it would sate my needs.

He hovers over me. Just for a moment his long muscular body stretched above me, and I want to reach up and tough that broad chest, but I am still held. I feel the broad length of him between my legs and then just the tip enters, still teasing for a moment before he drives forward and my warm wetness engulfs his entire length.

It almost knocks the air from my lungs and my hips rise to meet him. In long languid strokes his pulls back until just the tip remains before driving back into me.

“I want to touch you.” I whimper and the magical force holding me down vanishes and I grasp his face in my hands pulling him too me, kissing him greedily as we find our rhythm. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pushing my face into his neck, wanting as much of me to be touching as much as him as possible.

He is as aroused as me. I can feel him fighting to hold on, wanting me to find my release, needing to hear me scream his name. The warmth pours through me, starting in my groin, the warm pressure that precedes the explosion, flowing outwards. I whisper his name, my voice strangled. He knows what I am trying to say even if I have lost the words to do so. His thrusts speed up and I scream his name into his shoulder as we reach the pinnacle of passion together. I bite into his shoulder, riding the pleasure, his thrusts diminishing as he pours into me.

It is a while before we are able to move, lying on the damp tangled sheets in the afterglow. His hand resting on my stomach as he curls around me protectively. I trace the teeth mark on is shoulder.

“I guess I should say sorry.”

“Never say sorry.” He mutters into my shoulder. “Not for giving yourself so completely to passion, love and of course…. me.”

“I didn’t mean to mark you before to see Mystra.” I stroke his dark hair and breath in his scent. Over the aroma of warm bodies and the smell of sex is his own unique fragrance, dry grass, spices and the slight sweetness of rose from his eternal connection with the weave.

He rises to his feet, gently tracing the teeth marks. “Actually, I was wondering if one of the tailors round here could quickly adapt on of my tunics to cut out a space around here.” He smiles at me. “I would always wear your mark, it is a mark I earned with pride. Unlike this one.” His fingers trace the orb scar.

I watch as he moves round the room. Finding clothing discarded the previous night. Naked he crawls onto the bed and kisses me long and hard, the traces of our love making still on his face and beard. I try to reach for him, but he evades me.

“I would give almost anything to stay here with you and continue our exploration, but we know that nothing is truly resolved until the crown is in Mystra’s hands and I am freed from this damned netherese blight” he kisses me again. “and while as there is no more beautiful scent than the evidence of our bodies mutual celebration, I feel it may be disrespectful to greet a deity in such a manner. He stands, still naked, his body making me want to reach out for him. “I will go to the bath house and sadly wash away all evidence of you from my body.” He touches the mark on his shoulder. “Except this of course, which will be my reminder of what has been and my promise of what will come.”

“Astarion will certainly have some choice words for you if he sees it.” I lie back on the bed, my body still vibrating from his talented lovemaking.

“I’m sure he will.” To my disappointment he is soon hastily dressed. “I’ll go to the temple straight from the baths, but will ask the staff to bring you warm water to wash and some clean bedding.” He kisses me, gazing at my naked body. “making sure it’s one of the female maids.” He kisses me again, lingering a little too long. “Although maybe even they would not be immune to your beauty.” He appraises my body, shining under a sheen of sweat. “Wait for me my love and when I return we will truly be free.”

Chapter Text

I pull the sheets over myself when the maid timidly knocks on the door. Entering, the young girl looks a little awestruck as she wheels in the cart containing a basin and ewer of steaming water, as well as a pile of new bed linens and a covered plate of bread, cheese, cold meats and a cup of warm milk spiced with cinnamon and sugar. She timidly asks if I wanted her to change the sheets and when I decline, she curtsies awkwardly and tells me to leave any dirty clothes or linens outside the door where the porters will arrange their removal.

I lazily enjoy breakfast and wash in the mint scented water, which leaves me feeling more refreshed than I have in a while. I take the time to clean the room, opening windows to refresh the stuffy air and piling the dirty linens and clothing outside the doors. Already the room has become ours. Gale’s books are piled here and there, left open on the desk, or with bookmarks neatly inserted into pages he wants to revisit. Our equipment is tucked into the corners of the room, as though hiding it away will ensure we don’t need to use it again.

I wonder what life in Waterdeep will be like? The journey will be long, there are over 750 miles of road between here and Gale’s home city, some of it treacherous. We had discussed a magical means of traveling, but there was a certain appeal to a month and a half of us making our slow meandering way along the coast, almost like a honeymoon. A chance to just be ourselves and learn all there was to know about each other.

The previous days of bitter fighting and the struggle just to remain alive in the face of overwhelming obstacles have now left me restless. I wonder if this is why adventurers never really quit. Of course, there are those that do retire – find themselves an inn in which to hold court, or a village to become the leader of - but you only needed to look at Jaheira and Minsc to realise that once this lifestyle sinks it’s bloodstained talons into you, maybe you never really got away.

I wonder about Gale and I. Will a life among his books in Waterdeep be enough for us?

Gale has found a copy of the Art of Night, and it has become a ritual to read it to each other every evening. There were 1000 days to cover and we have pledged to read one each evening, a promise that after everything, we will never stray from each other, but always make the time to just be there, present in the moment. But just as it is impossible for Gale to shirk in his lovemaking, he cannot pass a bookshop without purchasing something! I worry by the time we did leave for Waterdeep we will need an extra wagon just for his books. He has however developed a most delightful passion for books of an erotic nature, a passion in which I confess I encourage him.

By the side of our bed is a historic text from a Calimshan – containing some delightfully acrobatic suggestions that have almost caused more than one injury – and a treatise from a priestess of Sune, who had thrown herself into the worship of her goddess in a most enthusiastic manner. I thumb through the latter, loosing myself in the text until I realise that the sun is at its zenith and Gale has not returned.

If the previous few weeks have taught me anything, it’s that the dark shadows are only ever around the corner. The moments of joy that we felt had been startling bright lights among a torrent of darkness. The successes had made it bearable, but the fear had always been there, lurking in the background, diminishing even the briefest of happy moments.

Now the dark shadows are back.

I know that time in the astral plane passes differently, Gale’s previous meeting with Mystra had lasted only moments, although for him is seemed as if they had been conversing for some time. Even if he lingered at the baths, he should be done. Should be back.

I look out of the window. People pass in the now partially demolished street, the noise of the city flowing upwards to my window, but there is a roaring chasm in the mind and through that chasm fear pours into me. In the main tap room of the inn no one has seen him. They saw him leave some four hours earlier, but he has not returned.

The fear gnaws deeper. I make my way to the tabernacle, my feet pounding on the stone cobbles, passing townsfolk still clearing the debris of their homes from the street. There the kindly gnome tells me that Gale has indeed been and left. I breathe a little easier, at least he is back in our plane. She has not kept him. If he is back, he must be safe.

I walk the streets of Baldur’s Gate for hours. Through the devastation of the ruined city, visiting bars, taprooms, temples, shops. There is no sign of him, and it isn’t until the sun is starting to make it’s weary descent that I find him, still as a stone, face rigid and unmoving, staring out at the ocean from a bench tucked away at the end of an abandoned jetty. I sit next to him and take his hand, he squeezes it gently, his eyes fixed on the horizon

The insidious tadpoles are blissfully gone, but the ability to connect to Gale mind to mind is something I miss. Right now I wish that I could just feel the thoughts that were coursing through his mind. His whole body is tense, as though if he moves he will suddenly unravel into pieces.

“I always loved the ocean.” Gale’s voice sounds far away. “Even in my darkest days back in Waterdeep when I felt as though all hope had left me, I would venture out onto the terrace and listen to the sound of the waves beneath my tower. Even in chaos, their rhythm and the absolute certainty of their daily motion calmed me. I came here to think, just for a moment.”

“Gale,” I gently stroke his hand. “you’ve been here hours, no one knew what had become of you”

“Really?” he laughs, shaking his head and turning to me, that cocky smile fixed to his face. “I must have needed far more thinking than I realised. Never let it be said that I was not capable of deep thought when the need arises.”

I can tell all this light hearted confidence is feigned, it reminded me of Elminster’s visit, when he’d so resignedly accepted the destiny that Mystra had bestowed upon him, to die in order to destroy the absolute. This is the same breezy countenance and it fills me with more fear that I can explain. “I assume it did not go as planned.”

“it was…” he pauses. “…Unexpected. I arrived to much pomp and ceremony and Mystra in all her glory, looking more beautiful than ever.”

Even without wanting to, my hand on his tightens. For a second, the facade drops and his eyes are haunted, not since we had sat under a curtain of stars and he’d spoken of his impending death had I seen such a look. “Do not fear my love,” within a moment, the confidence is back, fixed rigid to his face. “Beauty is objective. When I talk of Mystra’s beauty it’s as though looking at a painting or a sunrise. As far as I am concerned, your beauty encompasses far more than hers ever could. It has reached into my heart and found a place there from which it can never be expelled.”

He rests his hand over mine, trapping it in a warm cocoon. “She thanked me for my service and then revealed that the whole wretched plan was a test to see if I had regained my skills in magic, recovered my honour and if I was still worthy of her. To test my devotion as it was.” He sighs. “she requested – no, demanded - that I return to her side as her chosen!” he smiles ruefully. “Not so long ago, it would have been my greatest wish, but now….” He slumps slightly, his shoulders sagging.

“I cannot bear it.” He says quietly, stared out at the sun setting over the ocean. “With anyone else I would feign strength, but you know me too well. It is not to be born.” Releasing my hand he stands, pacing the cracked wooden jetty. “First she wills me kill myself, sacrifice myself on her alter for the apparent redemption of all mankind, and I would have done it! I was so bereft of all human touch I truly thought that it would be a worthy end of me. But then, in that darkness, I found you. So unexpected. I honestly thought you would turn away but you embraced all my faults and my fear and when the moment came, I chose you.”

He stops and looks straight at me. “I will never regret that choice!

“And then she bids me bring her the crown. Dangles the promise of my healing and redemption once again and the gods help me, I believed her.” He stops. “I cannot keep being thrust to the edge of the abyss in her name, it is tearing me apart to be forced from the depths of sorrow into the light of your love and then dragged back again.”

I stood, going to him and wrapping my arms around him. “Is it so bad? Being her chosen. Surely being in her favour again is everything a wizard of your standing could hope for?”

He wraps his arms back around me, his head buried in my hair and pulling me in tightly in as though he is afraid I will escape. There is something different about him. I cannot put my finger on it, but some tiny facet of his existence that is altered.

“It is the terms she demands. I will be her chosen for eternity. I will reside with her in the astral plain and forgo my old life. She may even help me ascend, as she did her other chosen, and I will remain by her side. For eternity.” He chokes into my hair. “It is a reward!”

For a moment I am frozen. After all his talk I know that this IS a reward. It’s truly a gift. From all our conversations, I know that godhood has always been just tantalisingly outside Gale’s reach. I thought that we had moved beyond those desires, but I also know that his ambition will always be there and this is an offer unlike anything he could have imagined.

“I am happy for you.” I am only marginally successful in my attempt to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“No!” he grabs my shoulders. “I do not want this. A few months ago, even weeks, I would have bounded towards this offer like an excited child, but I am not the man I was.” He kisses me tenderly. “You have loved me and you have changed me. No one has loved me as you do. Not even Mystra, with her many promises and the advantage she took of the naïve child I was. I want to live my life with you and discover all that our future has to offer. I want to share the world with you and leave our mark. Not my mark, ours. The great things we shall do together.”

“Then say no!” I am baffled at his despair. “Surely you have a choice?!”

“Oh yes, straight to the crux, the choice. I have a choice indeed.” He holds me against him and I can feel the warmth of him, his heart beating so hard that it might burst from his chest. “She bid me choose. Join her absolutely, or be exiled from the weave for all days. That is my choice.”

I stand there, so still, sagging in his arms. Just such a brutal, cruel decision. To lose the future life he wants, or keep the life he desires, but destroy the very core of his being. He told me once that magic was his life. He could never live if he was disconnected from the weave.

I know what he must do. “When must you leave?” I whisper. “how long did she give us?”

He pushes me gently backwards, and there’s a strange look on his face, he stares at me with eyes that are unfamiliar.

“No.” he sounds surprised. “You do not understand. I told her no. I told her that a life without you was more than I could conceive of.” He tears open the front of his tunic, the buttons exploding outwards as he rends the cloth in frustration. The scar on his chest is blackened, charred and bruised - it seems that when she ripped the weave from him, even the remnants of the Karsus weave, she was none too gentle. I now truly see the raw, burned tips of his fingers and the rapidly purpling bruises across his chest and shoulders, as though he tried to grasp the weave as it was torn away, being pulled from his body in a violent expulsion.

I suddenly see the truth and I understand the subtle alterations of his being. There is no faint smell of rosewater on his skin. The indigo specks in his eyes are gone, and left is only emptiness and confusion.

Chapter Text

The night is strange. Gale is subdued. He swears he is well, but there is a stillness to him like a little death. For the first night in as long as I can remember, there is no attempt at lovemaking. Instead, he crawls into our bed and sleeps as though he has not done for weeks. He wraps himself around me as though I will escape, drift away like smoke in the night, and if he can hold me close enough he might prevent that.

Twice he wakes in the night with a cry and twice I stroke his hair and whisper my love to him until he sleeps again. Whatever was done still torments his body and especially plagues his soul. He is diminished somehow. Whether in truth or in his own mind I am unsure, but I know wounds when I see them and more than anything it is time that will resolve whatever damage was inflicted by his jealous deity.

The next morning I leave him in a fitful sleep. His face drawn and grey, and the pallor of suffering etched on his skin even more plainly than the previous night.

Most of my party is still loitering around Baldur’s gate, aiding the townsfolk best they can. Jaheria, Minsc and Halsim return to the inn each night weary after their efforts. Astarion wends his way back occasionally to crow about his latest conquest and Lae’zel is often seen with Voss. I have heard there are dragons in her future, and I could not be happier. Wyll and Karlach I think of most, trapped in Avernus, fighting daily just so Karlach has a place she can survive.

But Shadowheart is my most regular confidant. She seems secure in Selune’s embrace, and it is her that I call on, needing advice. She is softer now, drinking tea instead of beer, her silver white hair loose round her face, it’s as though after her long journey she has finally found peace.

We sit in the corner of the inn, tucked away from curious glances.

“it seems a sad conclusion.” Shadowheart agrees. “Although I’m not entirely surprised. Of all our group, I think I am the one who can most understand such a gross betrayal by a deity you once loved.”

“I’m afraid he will come to resent me. He once told me that his life was the weave, and he’s give it up for me. How could he not resent me. Maybe not today, but eventually.”

Shadowheart sips her tea. “You know, we were all a little in love with you.”

I find myself somewhat surprised. This is the first time such things have been spoken of.

“Well, maybe not Minsc and Jaheira, but yes, the rest of us certainly.” She smiles.

“How could this even be true!” I simply don’t believe her.

“How could it not be!” Shadowheart lays down the cup. “Almost all of us, every single one, had been hurt badly by someone who sought to dominate us. You helped me see Shar’s truth and reunited me with my parents, albeit briefly. You help Lae’zel escape Vlaakith’s yoke. You pulled Astarion from the shadow of his Sire and Wyll from his contract with Mizora. You even helped Halsin break away from the politics of his Grove and Karlach from the pain of never touching again. You liberated all of us.”

I had never seen it in such a way before.

“We all owed you so much and all of us carried a torch for you. But I can tell you, our torches were dull indeed when compared to the inferno we soon realised was burning between you and Gale.” She sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, we were all slightly jealous, but it was so clear to all of us that we could never eclipse what you had. From the earliest days it was as if a cord strung the two of you together and nothing could pull you apart.”

“I didn’t realise my romantic life was such a topic of conversation.”

It was one of the only things of pleasure available to discuss.” She grimaces. “Everything else was rather bleak if I recall correctly.”

“So you’re saying….”

“I’m saying that he chose this for you. You have something truly special. Don’t reduce the magnitude of his sacrifice by doubting how special it is.”

I smile at her, genuinely happy she is there. “When did you get so wise.”

She smiles back and inclines her head. “By Selune’s blessing”

I return to our room to find a thick miasma of smoke and Gale crouching by the fire cursing and coughing in equal measure. I run to the window and pull it open, allowing the smoke to clear. Gale coughs pitifully.

“I just wanted to warm the room” he sits on the bed despondently. “how in the gods to people do this without magic?”

“A lot of hard work usually.” I sit beside him and wipe some of the moisture from his face where his eyes have streamed in the cloying smoke.

“I don’t know how to be this person” he sighs. “I’ve been working with the weave since I was a child. Without it, I am lost. What am I, if not the wizard of Waterdeep.”

“Actually, I think you originally introduced yourself as ‘Gale of Waterdeep’ and you are still very much that person.”

“Am I?” he looks at me quizzically. “I feel diminished. So much of me I feel, wrapped within the weave. It is not just my magic she tore asunder, but some part of me as well.”

“It will take time to adjust.” Even as I say it, I doubt it. There is a part of me that isn’t sure he ever can. “You are a learned man, the most intelligent, witty, erudite, fascinating man I have ever met. There is a space in this word for you. Be assured of that.”

“I’m not sure there is. I feel lost, I feel as though the Gale you know is gone, just a memory for you to look back upon and regret.

“Nothing could be further from the truth.” I kiss him on the cheek.

“Do you forget how we first made love? Do you not recall the wonders I created in order to capture your heart? To bind you to me?”

I thought back. I had harboured feelings for the talented, witty mage from before we had even connected through the weave. There was a kindness in him, the soul of a poet and a nervousness behind the confidence that helped me see the gentle heart that resided there.

When we connected through the weave I was finally able to see within the tough outer walls that this brilliant man had built. The fear that he would never love again, that he would never feel happiness alone, the fear that he would burn out – a distant spark on the horizon and only his Tressym would miss him.

I wanted to kiss the fears away and had imprinted that in his mind. His shock had been palpable, something else that endeared me to him.

By the time he had finally confessed his love to me, I had been smitten for some time, and was starting to believe that his total resistance to my unsubtle hints, meant that he was not interested. His confession - weighed down by the depths of despair and fear of his impending death – had been met by my own.

I recall that night fondly, the very thought of it sends tiny shudders through my body. He had shown me his world, his tower in Waterdeep and promised that we would bond like the gods did. I can still taste his mouth on mine as our spirits soared through the astral plane, the scent of rosewater almost overpowering, as the pure energy of the weave poured through us.

Our physical bodies gone, we were unrestricted by flesh and could become anything we wanted. Hands, faces, skin, we merged as rivers to mountains, we joined together as star filled dragons, a meeting of the angelic, demonic, elemental, all in one moment. It had gone on all night, timeless in many ways, lasting only seconds in others, an experience like nothing before.

“it wasn’t your wonders that bound me to you Gale.” I smile, lifting his face to mine.

“How can you say that? I’m not such a fool and I see your heart all too plain. I have seen with my own eyes how you recall that night. I see from the flush in your cheeks how it affect you even now. I am a poor reflection of the man you love.”

“You ARE a fool Gale Dekarios” I kiss him again. “Much as that night was an experience, you mistake the truth behind my memories. I would have happily taken you in the dust, on a threadbare bedroll with Karlach snoring in the distance. It was not your magic that drew me to you, it was you, the man behind the magic.” I run my fingers over the blackened scar on his chest. He winces slightly. “your magic that night was fun, exciting even, but ultimately unnecessary. I loved you before you shared the weave. I loved you before you showed me the stars. I love you because you have a good heart and a brilliant active mind.”

“but how often do I use my magic when we are together?” he strokes my face. “I’m not sure I know how to please you without it.”

“It’s your generosity of spirit that brings me the most pleasure” I touch his thigh. “it’s your wicked tongue and talented fingers that make me beg for your attention every night.” I run my fingers up his thigh. “It’s waking with you every morning, reaching for you and finding this strong, but gentle body that I am looking forward to learning more about every day.”

I lift his face to look at him and smile. “You must know, that you’re very special to me.”

He smiles back, recognising his words, sent back to him in a moment of equal despair. He grips my hands “I need to know that you don’t feel as though you are trapped with something you regret.”

“I trust in you and me. And have to trust that YOU won’t ever resent me for being the indirect reason you lost your magic.”

We stare at each other and then he leans in and kisses me. “I regret nothing” he whispers into my ear

“Me neither.” I whisper back.

Chapter Text

It is with some ceremony that we leave Baldur’s Gate. We are, after all, the heroes of the city and it would not do to just skulk away into the night. We have pulled together a caravan of one fine carriage for us, a large wagon for all the gifts and paraphernalia we have acquired and a number of teamsters. Eventually, we leave the city to a bright autumn sun, and a gathering of friends and wellwishers, who usher us from the city with cheers and banners.

There are good days and bad. Too often Gale forgets that his magic is no longer at his fingertips and I hear him uttering words that no longer bring forth the effects that they used to. It is now all too apparent that Gale has habitually relied on his magic to make life that little bit easier. A cantrip to flavour food, a small enchantment to lighten the load, and a breath of magic to ease the pain. Sometimes it is painful to watch. His frustration at being unable to do the simplest of tasks and his sense of uselessness bubbles out, and then he is sorry, profusely apologising to me for his harsh words.

For Gale, everything is must be re-learnt without the helping hand of a spell. Sometimes this is pleasant, Making cups of tea together, lighting the fire in the inn we stay at, the small gestures that everyday people partake in. Other times, I hate watching the embarrassment on his face as he fails in tasks that for most are simple.

At night, our lovemaking is slower and more cautious. It takes time for Gale to feel confident. He seems scared to let me down, despite how much I repeat that he is enough for me, will always be enough. He begins the re-exploration of my body as though it is our first time, reminding himself of the pleasure centres of my body, fixing them in his mind and moving inch by inch to new delights.

The journey is slow, we take our time on the road, each night a new inn, each night the doors locked and time for us to be together. Gale is as generous as ever, his entire plan as though to reassure me that he is still the man he was – at least in that department – he will barely let me touch him, instead ensuring that my needs are tantamount and his are suppressed, despite my protestations.

It gets to the point where one night I gently overpower him and using the more traditional restraints, tie his hands to the bed frame and partake of my own enjoyment of his semi naked body. He protests of course, but I am determined, and pepper kisses down his chest until I reach the tantalising trail of hair lowering from his bellybutton down into the waistband of his trousers. By the time I slide my thumbs into that waistband and inch his trousers down over his hips, all protestations are ended and he is silent, just watching me with hungry eyes. Once released he springs to meet me, already painfully hard, and I slide my hands around that long length, feeling the velvet skin in my hands and I watch as his head falls back and his breathing quickens.

I stroke him gently, watching him try and release his hands to reach me and bring me the same burning desire that I know courses through him. When he realises the knots are secure, he stares at me, down the length of his body, his eyes near desperate.

I slowly lower my mouth to the engorged tip and engulf it as my lover groans, I slide my lips down the long length and I know he is watching me, I know he his watching himself vanish into my mouth, as I run my tongue over him time and time again. I sink down, almost gagging, and he lifts his hips, trying to get more pleasure from my warm, wet mouth. I slide back up, until he is barely contained before once again impaling my mouth on him, hearing him gasp.

For a while I am lost in the pleasure of the noises he makes, I reach beneath me, stroking myself in time with my mouth on him, until my own pleasure starts to build. I straddle him and he chokes out my name as I lower myself down over his naked body, he feels the very tip enter the slick wetness of my folds and he is almost undone. I lower myself until I am impaled, rocking backwards and forwards, grinding down on him, my pace quickening. I watch his eyes on my naked form as I sit straddled his body, taking my pleasure from him. His eyes have never looked so hungry, dark pools drinking me in,

“if you do not wish for a swift ending you must stop” he pleads. I lean forward, hair over his face, kissing him hungrily, feeling the pulse and the throb as he pours himself into me and I grind out the last of my pleasure, collapsing on him, my legs weak and my heart pounding.

“A lesson learned my love” his voice is breathless. “you’ve never looked so beautiful.”

As time goes on, there are fewer bad days, and the good days increase. We meander along the coast at a snails crawl, taking time to explore and enjoy, both the area’s we pass through and each other.

The scar on his chest is healed, the blistered burning has gone, there is only a faint red outline like a brand. I can trace it with my fingers when we lie in bed, feeling the puckered skin taught underneath my fingers

Mystra is a painful memory that only occasionally arises, and Gale is more himself, that wry, witty man I came to love. Tucked away in our carriage, the attendants – gifted by the city – must think us antisocial. We spend much of the day with the curtains drawn, Gale reading aloud from a book and me, dosing with my head in his lap, lulled by the sway of the carriage.

We have fought so hard – lost so much, we deserve this time of peace.

The inn this night is not as pleasant as some. Our caravan leader – an older woman with steel grey hair and a near permanent scowl, considers travelling on, but the horses are weary and we must resupply our water. Inside, the welcome is chilly, but the rooms are cleaner than I expected. The mattress is straw not feather, for which Gale is unimpressed, but the straw smells clean and dry, and it is nice to be washed, even if the water is cold.

We sleep well, wrapped together under a thick quilt and a blanket that smells like dried flowers and pollen. We have gotten complacent, our believe in our own abilities too great. After all, we are the heroes of Baldur’s gate. Untouchable.

I wake to shouting. Before I can react, Gale and I are wrenched apart, his body pulled from the bed abruptly, as mine is wrenched away from him with equal force. Barely awake, I feel a blade at my neck, and strong hands holding me down on the bed. I hear Gale shouting, amidst mocking laughter from the heavy set bodies in the room. I struggle and receive a back hand across the face for my reward. My ears ring, my head pounds and the blade presses deeper, a trickle of blood rolling down towards the pillow.

“Not bad either of em.” The apparent leader approaches, leering down at me. I have fought many battles, but here, naked in my bed I am more vulnerable than I can ever recall, terrified. I remembered seeing the group at the hearth in the taproom, scowling as we came in, but I had given it no thought. Why would I. We fought beholders, mind flayers, aspects of the gods themselves. Why would I fear a group of ruffians

I try and fight back, but each limb is gripped and every struggle causes the blade at my neck to dig in further, more blood gathers on the pillow and eventually one of the group, frustrated, punches me hard in the stomach, knocking the wind from me. I sag, and as my head lolls I see Gale forced, kneeling to the floor, hands pressed behind his back, a large knife to his neck as well. Blood trickles from a sliver of flesh, he’s also been struggling to get away. Neither of us willing to give up.

The leaders is poking through our items. “They’ve got enough loot on them to keep us going for months and I know a fella from Athkatla that will pay a pretty penny for them in the slave markets.” He scrutinises our naked bodies. “not sure about the scar on this one.” He prods Gale’s chest with the tip of his blade before turning to me. “but this one is pretty enough, I guess.”

More men enter the room. Blood splattered on both. “They’ve all run!” says one, and I know right then that there will be no rescue. I pray in my head for anything, a knife, a chance, a hope. But our gods have abandoned us.

“Get off her.” Gale growls under his breath. His rage is tangible, if he still had his magic, we might have a chance, but instead, there is more laughing and the leader kicks him in the stomach, throwing him backwards. He scrabbles to try and get to his feet, but he is manhandled back into a kneeling position by those men not holding me. One of them grips his head, turning it towards the bed.

“You’re gonna watch my old mate.” The leader starts to undo his filthy trousers. “and after I’m done, I’m going to treat all my men to a little fun as well. If she survives, she can join you on the slave block.” The men hoot and holler. I thrash on the bed, but strong ropes are binding me to the frame. No armour, no magic, no weapons, nothing. My limbs are stretched taut. I recall all the times, Gale and I would bind each other, loving moments of teasing and play, not this gut wrenching fear. “serves you right bitch, coming here, flaunting all that money.”

He moves, now naked, to crouch over me, a beast hunched over as if to devour me. He’s watching me and I know he’s enjoying the fear in my eyes. I spit in his face, he slaps me – to the laughter of his men - and starts maneuvering his knees between my legs, forcing them open even as my muscles fight to stay closed. He bites my breast hard, mouth closing on my nipple – no intention of bringing pleasure, just pain. I scream, incomprehensible in defiance, anger, fear, frustration – a cry of desperation thrown out into the world.

I hear one word screamed into the night.

“MYSTRA!”

Time stops. Literally, the air freezes, a drop of spittle hangs in mid-air, frozen as it begins to fall from the bandit leaders mouth onto my cheek. The air thickens, heavy and cloying, I cannot move, only remain frozen in this place. On the edge of my hearing there are voices.

Then a voice, Gale’s gentle voice, in my head as it was with the tadpoles, tenderly, sadly.

“close your eyes.” I squeeze them shut.

Even through the my eyelids, the whole world turns a rich purple, a hot wave washes over me and the bindings on my wrists and ankles turn to dust. The heat and light dissipate after the briefest second and I crack my eyes open. Gale stands alone in the room, dust and ash floats down around us – all that is left of our attackers. Even now the room is bright. Light pours from his eyes, a burning purple fire that drives away the shadows. He is engulfed in the weave, it pours through him and around him, his feet are inches from the floor as he is born on it’s perfect energy.

There is a sense of well-being. All is well. I am safe.

The light dims and Gale staggers, almost falling as he rushes to the bed. We are in darkness, the smell of burning flesh all around us. Everything is covered in soot and ash, my skin is dusty with the remains of our abusers. He whispers a word and a glowing ball of light appears, illuminating the devastation in the room. Another soft expression and he is wrapping me in the cocoon of a clean wool blanket, clutching me to him.

“I couldn’t let them hurt you.” He whispers to me, rocking us together in his arms, “I’m so sorry.”

Chapter Text

Other than our room, the inn is untouched. The owners are long gone, presumably complicit, or at the very least, terrified. He carries me down the stairs, the power of the weave augmenting his own strength. Outside, he places me down on the grass while he checks around for any more attackers. the dew is cold on my feet. I am still naked, wrapped in the blanket he conjured, but he is wearing a truly beautiful brocade robe in deep violet, embroidered with silver. I can see the light curling up his neck from the orb scar, but this isn’t the sickly deep purple is used to be, it’s bright, almost silvery, the orb scar imbued by Mystra herself.

Gale picks me up again, carrying me to our carriage and places me tenderly inside before leaping in and closing the door. Inside the air is tinged a warm violet and the smell of rosewater is almost overwhelming.

“Mystra’s Chosen.” I whisper. He nods.

“It was the only choice.” He strokes my face. “I couldn’t let them do that to you.” He wraps his arms around me. “But you are safe now.”

“And you are leaving.” I sigh. He holds me close.

“I took the best of two truly awful options.” He lifts me onto his lap, holding me to him like a child. He seems taller, stronger, alive with the weave. “This way you are alive, safe, even if I can’t be with you.”

There is silence for a moment as it sinks in. Gale places me back onto the carriage seat as though I were a precious parcel and starts working with the weave. For a moment the air in the carriage is full of energy and then my ears pop and it is gone.

“I’ve sent the horses back to Baldurs Gate, together with our cowardly compatriots.” He smiles gently at me. “It’s time to go home” There is a sense of stillness, the air grows thick again and then there is a momentary rushing sensation before the air clears and I hear the sound of seagulls.

It is still night, but the air smells of salt, and unlike the heavy darkness of the wilderness, here, the night is held back by flaming torches. Gale opens the door and steps down, lifting me out of the carriage as though I weigh no more than a feather.

We are in a cobbled street with tall houses either side. Our horseless carriage takes up much of the street, blocking my sight of most of the buildings. There is a door in front of us made of burnished dark wood, lamps burning either side in a welcome glow. At a whispered word from Gale, the door swings open and lanterns inside burst to life. He gently places me on the rich rug inside the door.

“Not quite how I imagined our homecoming, but welcome to Waterdeep. He looks around. “seems the house keepers have done well caring for the place. I imagine there will be some shock at our early arrival.”

“Not just at the early arrival.” I turn towards Gale and it is hard to look at him. The term ‘Mystra’s Chosen’ had previously been an honourific, but now I truly see what it means. He seems taller and his shoulders seem broader. There is an unearthly energy about him, his hair moves in a non-existent breeze and energy crackles across his skin.

“Apologies.” He closes his eyes and the power retreats. He is my Gale again. “I can keep it in check.” He takes my hand and leads me down the hallway and towards the imposing stairs. “Can you walk?”

I nod. The carpet is soft under my feet and in a daze we make our way up the stairs, past paintings and tapestries adorning the walls. Clutching the soft blanket around me Gale escorts me upwards, one hand around my shoulders.

“I’m sure one of my robes will fit you until we can find more suitable attire.” He smiles at me. “At least it will be clean, if not your usual style.”

“Gale, we need to talk”” I protest, “You can’t just ignore what happened!”

“Tomorrow.” He says softly, as we continue up the stairs, a seemingly endless spiral of art and finely carved wood.

I stop where I am and grasp his arm “Do we even have a tomorrow?”

He kisses me gently, standing on the stairs in his house, calm, despite everything. “I promise, we have tomorrow, but right now, in this moment, my priority is you. Or did you forget that less than an hour ago, you were nearly defiled and murdered before my very eyes?” he shudders, recalling the moment. “I need to see you warm, safe and with a glass of wine in your hand before I can conceive of anything else.”

I nod and we continue up the stairs. At the top he pushes a door open and I freeze in place.

It is his room - the centre of his universe – and it is exactly as his illusion showed me. The warm Hearth surrounded by wingback chairs, the intricately carved desk, the piles of books, from between which peeks the statue of a winged lion. As we step through the doorway the Piano in the corner starts softly playing, and candles flicker to light, illuminating the far side of the room, where blue drapes hide a doorway, which I know leads to the terrace.

“Oh Gale.” I breath, held fast by the door as I survey a room which I have never seen, but which I recall intimately “It’s perfect.”

“I wasn’t sure how accurate my recall was.” He surveys the room. “But I must concede, I did myself proud.” He makes his way around the room, stroking the cover of a book, or resting a hand on a statue. “It has been many a day since I was actually here, but it feels like only yesterday.”

“And now you can show me around properly?” it is a loaded question, more about our future than a grand tour of the house.

“Nothing would give me more pleasure.” He smiles “Although there is one thing I would like to show you, something that I did not reveal to you before.” He takes my hand and leads me to one of the bookshelves, which swings open to reveal a well-appointed bedroom. The room is richly decorated with – unsurprisingly – more books, but also a four poster bed surrounded by velvet drapes.

“So there was a bed.” I enter and run my hand over the velvet. Gale nods, smiling to himself as he makes his way to a large armoire.

“I was trying to impress you.” He rummages through. “I wanted to show you something truly remarkable, never thought you would give your heart to me if I didn’t, so I deliberately failed to mention the bedroom and opted for our more….. unconventional joining.” he returns with a soft robe of embroidered silk in a beautiful sea green. “I’m not handsome like Astarion, or fearless like Karlach. I’m not experienced like Halsin and I certainly wasn’t as forward as Lae’zel. Everywhere I looked, you had better options. But the weave, well that I could show you.”

He peels the blanket from me and frowns at the bruises on my body, the purple teeth marks apparent on my breast and the drying blood on my neck. I look down, ashamed of these marks, somehow embarrassed, and he moves from mere anger to rage. His control weakens and the lilac of the weave starts to glow around him as he surveys the damage to my body. With one terse word all my pains go. I look down and my skin as unblemished. All the stiffness that I didn’t even know I was feeling flows away, my body is as new. The rage diminishing slightly, he helps me into the robe. It hangs around me, too big, too long for my frame, and he sinches it with a soft canvas belt. I let him cloth me. He seems happier once I am dressed and warm in front of him.

“You didn’t need to impress me that night you know, you’d already impressed my with your kindness and your agile mind.” I take the glass of wine he conjures and take a deep draft of the rich liquid, making my way across the room, the robe pooling around my feet. “As I have said on many occasions. I would have taken you in the dust of our campsite, in the grass of a meadow or half submerged in a muddy stream. Wherever it was, as long as it was you and me, it would have been perfect.”

“I know that now.” He smiles and leads me to the bed, sitting on the edge and patting the soft covering next to him. “But back then I was a very bruised and damaged person. Look at how easily I accepted my death. I truly thought I had nothing to live for. In many ways, I can now see that everything I said to you that night was a test, trying to prove that I had nothing to live for.” I sit next to him, warming my stomach with the wine. “You proved me wrong. When I said I loved you I never expected you to return the gesture. It was then I knew that it was my one chance.”

I look around the room, taking in the beautifully worn furniture and the paraphernalia of his life, just abandoned so many months ago.

“Where is Tara?”

“Probably out terrorising Pigeons. I will leave a note on the door telling my staff and her that we returned early and not to disturb us. Sleep is needed now, not introductions and explanations.”

I sip the wine. I’m feeling sleepy.

“This wine….” I look at the goblet, as Gale takes it from my hands. “Did you…..”

“Not entirely moral I confess, but necessary. You need the full healing of good nights sleep.” He pulls the quilt aside and pushes me back gently onto soft cotton sheets. “We can talk in the morning, but tonight’s sleep has been disrupted enough and the days to come will be hard.” He lifts my feet and slides them onto the bed, pulling the quilt across my body. It is warm and despite his long absence, the bed smells of his skin and of home, of safety.

He kisses me on the forehead. “Tomorrow. We will talk.”

Before I can protest, I am drifting into sleep.

I wake in confusion from a dreamless sleep. For a moment I struggle to remember where I am. My thoughts flit from our bed in the Elfsong to the myriad beds we have slept in over the last few week.

Then my mind jolts awake as I recall the previous night and I am assaulted my feelings, the horror of what had happened, the relief at our rescue, the sadness of our current situation and no small measure of annoyance at Gale’s decision to drug me.

It’s daylight and I’m alone in the room. I can hear hushed voices in the room beyond, Gale and a quieter voice. For a moment I clutch the quilt to me, before noticing a simple silk dress laid out over the foot of the bed.

I dress slowly. Despite the previous days exertions, I feel no pain. Whatever Gale did washed away all injury, and any last aches and pains seem to have vanished during sleep. I slide on the slippers left for me and find a brush on a table more cluttered with books and parchment than any personal grooming equipment. I brush my hair and with a deep breath to steel myself, I open the door into the main room.

Inside, Gale is leaning against the doorway to the terrace, bright light streaming into the room, while Tara sits on the desk, paws tucked neatly beneath her.

“Ah you’re awake.” Gale moves to the desk, where a plate of food is covered with a soft cloth. “Hungry?” I nod and he hands me a pastry, sweetened with honey and light as air. “I was just appraising Tara of the situation.” He returns to the doorframe, stretching in the midday light.

“Indeed”, the tressym turns to look at me. “a most unprecedented turn of affairs. It is pleasant to see you again my dear.”

“And you too Lady Tara.” I glimpse at Gale who nods gently and smiles, approving my deference. “I hope you’re well?”

“Adequate.” The winged cat declares. “Too much to do and not enough pigeons. I will leave on my errands Master Gale. I will return in due course” Tara jumps from the desk and makes her prim way to the terrace where she launches herself and glides away on her coppery wings.

“I’m glad she likes you. She is charming, but can be a particular thing when it comes to my associates.”

“What are her thoughts on Mystra right now.” I step out onto the terrace, watching the ships gliding across the bay in front of me.

“Unrepeatable.” Gale steps out, leaning on the balustrade, the sun catching on the coppery highlights in his hair. “I don’t regret what I did last night by the way.”

“Which bit, the part where you became the chosen of Mystra or the part where you drugged me in order to get me to sleep?” I sit on the bench, licking the honey from my fingers.

“An excellent point. Both I should imagine.” He turns to look at me, and there is glimmer of purple light into his eyes. “In fairness, I did promise that we would talk.” He moves to the bench and sits next to me. “This seems to be as good a time as any to do so.”

I don’t know where to begin. Last time I had been here, it had been with Gale, for our first night together, and the cementing of our relationship. There is a circular finality to the situation we find ourselves in.

“Mystra’s chosen.” I state, and Gale nods solemnly. “And the previous restrictions on that role still stand?”

“They do.” He places his hand on mine. “There was no avoiding that.”

“You’re still here though.”

“I negotiated a delay, not much, but something. A Tenday, starting at midnight last night.”

I sit in silence. Such a short time. Ten days to do and say everything that I thought I had a lifetime to achieve. Gale lifts my chin with his hand until I am looking straight at him.

“My Love, there are people who waste their days doing nothing while all the years of their life pass them by, then there are those who fill their days with all that life provides and revel in each moment. Let us be the latter.” He kisses me gently. “Do you recall when we sat here and I told you that there were countless ways to declare love and infinite ways to express it, and yet we still found a way to experience all that love could supply in just one magical night. Stay with me now and let us make memories for a lifetime, even if that lifetime is but 10 days.”

“You make it sound so easy.” I brush a curl of hair off his face.

“More a necessity. It is a strange feeling to realise how little time I might have left, I cannot deny. It weighs heavily on me, but there is a strange sort of peace to be found in knowing.” He holds my hand against his face. “Ten days, my love. Some people don’t even get that.”

“And some people get an eternity.”

“Then let us fit an eternity into ten days.” He stands. “There is an inevitability to this situation. Let us not turn away from the moment, but embrace the possibilities. Show the world that we lived these days as best as anyone could.”

I know he’s right. I know deep down that the eventualities of what could have befallen us last night might not have been recoverable. Ten beautiful days instead of brutality, enslavement and death?

“Ten days.” I stand and allow myself to fall into his arms. He wraps them around me. “The best ten days anyone has ever lived.”

Chapter Text

If I do not know where to start, then Gale already has plans. We leave the tower into the warm Waterdeep autumn. Outside porters are unloading Gale’s wagon of books and artifacts, newly recovered – by means of the weave – from our location the night before. He shrugs as I laugh.

“Well the books were not to blame for what happened, it seems churlish to leave them to the mercies of the damp sword coast weather.” He smiles and holds out his arm. I link my arm through and we walk along the cobblestones, for all outward appearances, a couple out for a pleasure walk. A short distance away an open top buggy awaits, two fine white horses paired in the traces and a liveried coachman standing pristine beside them loosely holding the reins. Gale helps me in and wraps a cloak around my shoulders against the cool coastal breeze.

“Let me show you my home.” He nestles in next to me and rests his arm over my shoulders, pulling me into the warm cocoon of his body.

Waterdeep is vast, far greater than I imagined and it certainly dwarfs Baldur’s Gate. We rumble over the cobbles, as Gale points out the sights. Waterdeep castle, Blackstaff tower, the remarkable walking statues, now settled in each of the wards. Every turn seemed to bring about a new wonder.

As we travel, I note faces in the street turn to us and our appearance seems to trigger hastened conversations amongst certain groups. I glean that Gale’s return to Waterdeep is certainly gossip worthy news.

“People seem curious?” I mention, after a particularly rotund matron almost falls in the way of an oncoming carriage in order to get a better look.

“My family aren’t wealthy by Waterdeep standards, but we are well off.” Gale mused, “and the name Dekarios has a certain appeal to middle class mothers hoping for a well off life for their gaggle of unwed daughters.”

“You’re telling me I’ve managed to snare one of the most eligible bachelors in Waterdeep?” I snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm.

“Well wizards are popular choices in Waterdeep. You scarcely see a destitute mage. I also believe the air of mystery surrounding my…. ‘relationship’ with Mystra and my seclusion in my tower for over a year, did little to calm the imaginations of those who have an inclination towards the romantic, or tragic.”

“So you’re a tragic romantic now?”

“My love, when you met me, I was most certainly tragic, and am I not sufficiently romantic for you?” He leans down and kisses me deeply and passionately, causing the Waterdeep rumour mill to turn at such a speed I imagine it is smoking.

The carriage stops in one of the mercantile quarters and Gale helps me down in front of a grand shop front with the name ‘Elessors’ emblazoned across the front. The wide shop windows are full of fine gowns and a bell rings as we enter, Gale holding the door open chivalrously. Inside is vast, row after row of dresses, and cloaks stretch into the distance, rack of shows and hats adorn the walls. Inside, a gaggle of women, mostly young, accompanied by stern faced matriarchs, watch as we enter. The noise abates as they watch us walk through the store.

A slender elven woman - impeccably dressed – rushes up to us. “Master Dekarios! You and your companion are very welcome. Your colleague told us of your visit today.” She ushers us towards an alcove with curtained nook and a comfortable chair. Pulling back the curtain she reveals a dressing room, already hung with more dresses than I have ever owned in my life.

“Some wine maybe? Or we have a spiced mead that is very popular this autumn. Gale nods as he sits in the chair.

“Both sound charming.” He lounges back, a twinkle in his eye, smiling at me. I am for a moment disarmed, my slightly awkward, bookish Gale is apparently in his element here, navigating the complexities of metropolitan life and charming shop owners.

“if you need any help, please ring the bell and one of my ladies will be over in a moment.” The owner glides away and I shake my head in disbelief.

“Who are you?” I declare, peering around the corner to see if we are being observed. The matrons have thankfully kept to their corners of the shop, even though I know they must be desperate to observe.

“Many an afternoon I spent sitting in this chair watching my mother try on dresses, poring over a book between her pestering me for my opinion. This is a life that I am very accustomed to my dear, even if I do find it more tedious than you could imagine. But my deepest love deserves to be clothed in wonders, and I believe that I sent most of your cloths up in ashes, an error which is my responsibility to rectify.” He pulls me into his lap and I wonder what the motherly figures in the next room would say if they could see me. “let me do this for you.” He kisses me deeply and for a moment the dresses are forgotten and I would like to just stay here kissing him. He breaks off and ushers me towards the curtained area.

“Make sure to buy yourself some undergarments.” He licks his lips. “Ones that are intended to be seen – by only me of course.

The wine and mead arrives, and Gale lounges in the chair, oblivious to the women in the store who suddenly and remarkably need to see a specific item that can only be found on a shelf near our alcove. Behind the curtain I am maneuvered into gown after gown, before being sent out to twirl in a mirror and for us to mark our mutual approval. Some we discarded, others are whisked away to be packaged up, or tweaked by skilled seamstress hands before being delivered. Undergarments, frail lacy things that make Gale’s face glow more than the wine, are boxed away in small discreet boxes. Trousers, shirts, a pair of solid boots in a rich tan leather, all are approved and go into the ever increasing pile.

I wait for Gale to produce a book from his shirt, but it seems on this occasion, the clothing of my body in every colour and fabric type I can conceive of, is of far more import. I am honoured.

When he is satisfied that my wardrobe has been fully replenished, he discusses delivery and we leave, parading past the herd of ladies who are clearly desperate to find out about the return of Gale Dekarios, but who’s curiosity will not be assuaged today. When we return to the carriage I fan my face with my hand.

“So much gold spent!” I am horrified by the decadence.

“A lifetime of gifts in ten days!” he smiles, but my face falls. For a moment I had forgotten. He kisses me. “No sadness today. He lifts my chin to look closely into my eyes. “Today we live.”

“An eternity in ten days. I repeat.

“Talking of eternities…” he sits back and indicates to the driver that we should proceed. Over the rattling of the wheels on even stone, he leans closer. “I would like to introduce you to my mother, if you are amenable.”

In truth I am terrified, but I know that this is important. I push the fear deep down inside and nod. “I would be delighted.”

“You’re still a poor liar.” He leans back in the carriage. “Morena Dekarios is a respected figure on the Social circuit of Waterdeep. It is her greatest shame that she never managed to marry me off. I know that she will be excited to meet the woman who managed where she failed.”

I was less convinced by this. “how much does she know?”

“About Mystra?” Gale considered. “Very little, although I suspect she has more understanding than I originally conceived. When every young woman she maneuvered into my presence was rebuffed I believe she had suspicions that there was someone else in my life – although I doubt even she thought it was a goddess – no matter how highly she thinks of me. She has always recognised that my magic was the most important thing to me, so even sequestering myself in my tower for a year was not considered odd for her unusual child.”

“So this may come as a shock."

“You will almost certainly come as a surprise.” He laughed. “But I did send prior warning with Tara that I would hopefully be visiting today with a guest. She will be intrigued.”

“Will you tell her….” I trailed off.

“I have written her a letter. His voice was gentle. “It is the best way. I have couched the whole sorry situation as the reward which many would conceive it. It will be delivered after the event and she will be sad, but proud.”

“Sad, but proud.” I repeat.

“I would not burden her with the knowledge that this was forced on me. I hope you understand. I would rather insulate her from the pain, even as I cannot offer you the same hope.”

We journey in silence. Mine from nervousness, and his I believe from a deeper understanding of what he is to lose.

The Dekarios family home is set aside from the main roadway in immaculately sculpted gardens. The rich copper coloured bricks were comfortably worn and the front door was open, allowing the remaining warmth of autumn to enter the house. We alight from the coach, and Gale clutches my hand to his as we walk up the path, surrounded by scented roses and lavender.

“Mother?” Gale calls as we enter the house. I hear footsteps rushing from a room down the hallway and in moments and older woman with the same dark chestnut hair rushes into the hallway and pulls Gale into a warm hug.

“Oh my son!” she holds him at arm’s length “Let me take a look at you.” She scrutinises him. Gale squirms in embarrassment. “you look well. Better than well. Something agrees with you.” Her eyes turn to me. “And on which subject. You are very welcome. I am Morena Dekarios, mother to this absent son.”

Gale introduces me and my heart skips a little at the way he says my name, full of warmth and pride. Morena smiles at me, also hearing the inflection.

“Come in, I have tea prepared. Your cat visited this morning. Told me you were coming. I was intrigued indeed.”

“She a Tressym, mother.” I could almost laugh at the exasperated tone in Gale’s voice.

“Either or, makes no difference.” She ushers us into a warm parlour. “Where on earth have you been young man.”

“I took a sabbatical mother, research in Baldur’s gate.” We sit in expensive chairs, now well worn by years of use. The parlour is all faded grandeur and memories, warm and comfortable.

“So far for yet more studying? Is there anything you don’t know yet? Always with your head in a book. I’m glad you finally removed it long enough to notice a woman.” I’m almost enjoying myself as Gale blushes crimson. “It is good to see you back in relative normality” she stresses the word relative and gives me a wry side look. I start to relax, I like her.

“Well here I am, and all the better for seeing you.”

“You, always were a charmer.” She smiles, turning to look at me. “A warning to you young lady, the Dekarios men are notoriously charming, if one can get them to put down whatever they’re tinkering with. With his late father it was plants. With this one it’s been books, ever since he was old enough to turn a page. How did you manage it.”

I thought of all the ways I could answer, but settled on one. “Persistence.”

She laughs out loud. “Well done you! I always wondered what would become of my wayward son. I suppose I should be grateful that he was up in his tower with his books and his cat..” I watch Gale role his eyes “Rather than out in the town stinking of cheap wine and cheaper women.”

“Mother!” Gale is horrified.

“And you can hush young man.” I hope you’re treating this young lady well.

“Well I did just put several hundred golds worth of dresses on your account at Elessors. Gale takes a cup of tea as his mother pours. “I will of course pay you back.”

“Oh Pish Posh!” his mother hands me a cup. “Money well spent. Not like these old bones have much need for new dresses these days. You’ve done me a favour maintaining our name to that elven biddy. Tell me, were the matrons of Waterdeep out in force ogling your new lady?”

“They were indeed Ma’am” I start, but she stops me.

“Please,” she fixes me with a determined stare. “For the woman who brought my Gale back to me, you may call me Morena.” I see Gale smile out of the corner or my eye, but my own heart skips a beat. Brought back – I muse – only to vanish forever in a tenday.

“Morena” I continue. “There was indeed much interest.”

“I imagine there was. Nothing Waterdeep likes more than a mystery, and you were always that.” She looks at him again. “You and the weave, I always worried how deep you were getting into that, but I could never stop you and it seems to have done you well. Mystra has indeed blessed you.”

“She has mother.” Gale is gentle, his voice controlled. Protecting his mother from the Truth, the torment that Mystra has put him through – his own mistakes and the remedying of them – the ultimatums and requests - the place we now stand on the edge of an abyss.

We finish our tea and after promises to visit again, return to Gale’s tower. We are both quiet.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Gale asks, as we wend our way through the city. “I have always been most adept at maintaining my secrets, even from you when we first met, but now I wonder. Should I confess all to her? She loves me deeply, but I only seek to lessen the pain she will feel when the inevitable happens.”

“Only you can know that.” I lean on him. “There are no right answers here, only impossible choices.”

“Impossible choices indeed.” He sighs. “I think in this instance I am right. I think any efforts made to lessen the pain of others must be considered worthy.” He strokes my face. “That I might lesson your pain.”

I huddle down inside the warmth of him. Engulfed in the pain of what must come.

Chapter Text

The tower is warm. Crates of books clutter the entrance, topped with boxes of clothes already delivered. Gale looks at the pile and the clothing boxes vanish in a small flare of purple light.

“Much as I hate this whole sorry situation, I cannot regret having my magic back and at such an increased level.” He looks at his hands, sighing. “Even now I cannot escape my ambition it seems.” We make our way up the stairs to his room.

In our absence, a meal of cold meats, breads and cheese has been laid out, together with wine. The unseen hands of the housekeepers who appear to come and go as magically as if by the weave itself. Gale opens the bottle and pours two glasses. He hands me one. The room is silent, other than the crackle of the fire and the faint sound of the sea outside.

He moves to the terrace and I follow him. Resting my hand on the small of his back, feeling the warmth through his shirt.

“I am afraid to touch you.” He whispers into the night. “a hand held, a kiss, stroking your hair. That I can manage. That is all softness and gentility.” He pauses. “But everything else terrifies me.” He puts down the glass of wine. “when I think of your body, when I think of everything we have done before, all I can see is that night in the inn – less than a day ago – and I cannot even imagine how you must feel. How much you must want to recoil and hide. It makes me feel sick, down to my core, the vileness of it.”

I set my glass down too and just listen.

His head is in his hands “And yet I must be honest, it’s still you and I still crave you. I still want to feel your skin under my hands and to caress you and take pleasure together. My mind is a jumbled mess and I can’t untangle this skein of thoughts.” He looks up. “I could make you forget you know. I could take that night and make it a shadow in your mind, like a rumour you heard, but never experienced. I could do that….” He trails off. “…but I know it would be wrong.”

“It would be, horribly wrong.” I sit next to him. “In the last few weeks, we have seen horrors together. This is one more horror to overcome, move past.

“but everything we saw, it had a terrible sort of purpose to it. We knew why it was happening, and there was a greater darkness to which we could attribute these acts – something to aim at, something to kill. But this – this feels personal. I killed them, I destroyed them all, but it’s not enough. Their acts… their acts will rob us of each other.”

“Only in your mind, only in your fears.” I pause. “In ten days I loose you. I loose you forever, and if the acts of these wicked men prevent me from being with you, then they win twice.” I take his hand and press it to my chest, over my heart. “I cannot promise that this will be well. I cannot promise that when I feel your touch I won’t break. I can’t promise that all those memories won’t come back and my mind and body will rebel…..” I press my hand to his chest, over the scar, where once he held it. “but I can promise that we will try.”

For a moment he looks as though he will refuse, but then he nods. “But you must be the guide through this. Whatever you feel you MUST promise to say.” I nod, standing.

“Given the efficiency of your household, I imagine there is warm water in the bedroom. Give me a time to freshen up and then come to me.” He nods and I take one final sip of my wine.

In the bedroom, I wash in jug of scented water. There is a glass bottle of sweet smelling oil which I smooth over my skin, making is glossy in the lamp light. I find a box from our shopping today and pull out the finest gossamer soft nightdress, it’s silk barely covers me, and that which it does cover is hinted at through the near translucent folds. I am nervous, but this is my armour, silk and oils to protect myself from the demons that lurk inside my mind.

Gale comes to the door, as nervous as a bride on her first night, he enters, closing the door behind him and leaning backwards on it, staring at me.

“Gods” he whispers under his breath. “Was there ever a more beautiful sight, here or anywhere.”

I twirl slowly, running my hand down my arm, the oil shining. I move to the bed and clamber up onto it, lying back on the pillows, feeling small on the expansive mattress. I hold out one hand to him and he moves towards me, reaching for my hand like a lifeline. He crawls onto the bed and up towards me. For a briefest second it is not him I see, but the bandit leader. I know he sees that flicker in my eye and his courage almost leaves him, but now I have my hand in his and it anchors us.

“Be brave my love and I will meet you in your bravery.” I whisper and he lies next to me, safer than above me for the moment. We kiss. For a time, that’s all. Mercifully I find myself aroused, the first hurdle crossed. I take his hand and move it down my body, the lightest feather touch, nothing reminiscent of my assault. He is led by me, touching me softly, exploring my skin as though it were the first time.

“May I?” he starts to lift the night dress and I sit up to help him, it slides over my shoulders and just being naked on a bed again causes my stomach to twist. For the first time, the room is cold. I steel myself, closing my eyes and focusing only on Gale’s gentle touch.

“Gale.” I whisper. He looks up, immediately halting his soft caresses. “No magic, not tonight.” he nods, understanding. She cannot have any part in our love making. Not this time.

The touches continue. He softly circles my nipples, sighing contentedly as the small nubbins of flesh harden under his fingers. I moan, the sensations starting to build in my body, and my focus being entirely on his gentle ministrations. His body is pressed along mine and I can feel him hardening against my leg, urged on by my reactions.

He moves to gently kiss my breast and I do my best not to think of teeth clamping hard on that soft skin. But the gentle kisses are so far removed from yesterday’s brutishness, that I sink into the pleasure and urge him on, gasping his name. Now he is leaning over me, alternating from one breast to the next, but rather than feeling threatened, I feel safe.

He is emboldened, running his fingers down my stomach, all the while gently kissing my nipples and swirling his tongue around them, he rests his hand on my mound, fingers just dipped between my legs, pausing.

“Do you want this.” He kisses my neck. “We can stop.”

“Don’t stop, please.” I moan and open my legs, allowing him access to the most vulnerable parts of me. He lowers his hand, stroking gently, his hand finding this sweet cluster of nerves and slowly stroking, teasing.

I am naked, spread open before him, but now the room is warm, the scent of him, the soft candlelight and sense of peace – it is so far away from the previous night that my mind is happy to sink into desire. His fingers sink deeper, sliding onward, his mouth still swirling around my nipples, fixing me to him, holding my mind enthralled in the pleasure. One finger dips inside and he breaths a ragged sigh of relief at how wet I am.

Another blockade passed. I desire him still, our attackers have not destroyed that bond between us.

What do you want?” he lifts his head from my breast, kisses me on my neck. “please, tell me what you want me to do.”

“Kiss me.” I whisper. He kisses my lips, my neck, all the while, one solitary finger dips inside me before moving up to stroke around the small fleshy nub above. “Lower” I demand, running my fingers through his hair. He is on his knees next to me, worshiping my breasts. A brief graze of teeth, makes me suck the air into my lungs and he pulls back, but it is desire, not fear that causes the reaction and I push his head back down, growling out my need. He relaxes, continuing the kisses and licks, the occasional nip, as soft as possible.

My body is on fire. I tangle my fingers in his mane of chestnut hair, and gently urge his mouth downwards. He kisses my stomach gently, resisting my hand, pushing him lower. “Please, I need to feel your mouth on me.” He looks up my body, hair over his face, brown eyes hungry.

“you’re sure?” his face is gentle, concerned, but there is need there too, I feel that need reflected in me.

“Yes, oh yes.” I sigh and he crawls lower, kneeling between my legs, which I spread wider. For a moment I am treated to the sight of him, the strength in his arms and shoulders, the lean waist, the long length of him jutting upwards. Then be bends down and makes the smallest lick between my wet folds.

I sigh audibly, one long breath escaping my body as I feel that clever tongue working it’s way into me. He probes and teases, and I feel as though all my feelings are centered between my legs, a nexus of pleasure ebbing and flowing. Gale sighs into the slick wetness, a sense of relief as he uses fingers and tongue to create a cacophony of senses that I lean into. We are here, we are safe, and there is nowhere else I want to be.

I could end here I know, I could throw my head back and scream out my pleasure, but I need this to be a true joining, I need this first time in his tower to be as complete as we can make it.

Maybe I need to test myself.

“I want you in me.” I smile and lift myself up on my elbows, watching him. He looks up, face and nose shining in the lamplight, he nods, smiling, relieved. With final kisses, He moves to kneel between my legs, he crawls up my body, hands either side of my torso, for a moment on all fours, above. His knee brushes the inside of my thigh.

Something in my mind snaps, there is a moment, when the room is dark, the shadow above me is not Gale, the mattress beneath me is straw not feather and I can feel phantom bindings around my wrists and ankles, as the muscles in my thighs scream from being pulled apart wider than they should....

“I make a strangled noise, scrambling back up the bed to retreat to the pillows, ragged breath suddenly. Gale freezes, scuttling back to the foot of the bed, trying to distance every part of him from me. I close my eyes, hold my hand out to stop him doing anything, just needing space to calm my shredded nerves. The darkness retreats and the room is as it was. I hear Gale from the end of the bed horrified, repeating a phrase over and over again.

“Sorry, sorry, oh gods, I’m so sorry.”

I calm my breathing and open my eyes. He has made himself small at the end of the bed. Too afraid to move in case he inflicts his presence on me.

“No, no, not your fault.” I breathlessly pat the bed next to me and he reluctantly creeps upwards, trying to keep the now rapidly softening length hidden. He lies down, still not touching me, and I crawl to him, resting my head on his chest.

“This was a bad idea.” His voice is pained.

“No, I wanted this. I want this, it was just…” I pause. “… too similar for a moment.” His hands are at his sides, he’s too terrified to touch me, not wanting me to link his touch with the sensations I just experienced. My breathing calms, the room feels safe again. “we just need to…. adapt.” I lift my head and kiss him. He kisses me back, but there is a reluctance. “Please Gale,” I urge. “I need to do this, I need to find a way.”

“And I need you to feel safe.” He whispers. “You tell me what you want, show me what you need.”

I move my head to his chest, gently biting his nipples, stroking his body down to his hips. He sighs, telling me I don’t need to do that, but I need to rebuild that burning sensation of pleasure, I need him hard, hard enough to plunge into me and remove all the doubts caused by the previous night.

I kiss lower and kneeling next to him take the head of his softened member into my mouth, it almost immediately thickens and pulses, Gale makes contented noises above me, little gasps and sighs that flutter to my stomach. He rests one hand on my head, and the other strokes my hip as I bend over him, striving lower, starting to stroke my inner folds, a finger once again reaching upwards.

“Wait,” he chokes out. I want to taste you too. He maneuvers me onto my hands and knees and crawls beneath me, his head beneath my groin. he pulls me downwards, mashing the warm wetness onto his face, probing his tongue up inside me as I draw that long rigid stave of flesh into my mouth. For a while we stay there, when the pleasure he provides becomes too detracting, I pause, only to then double down on my fervent licking and swallowing, while he moans his pleasure into my flesh.

It is exactly what we need, my pleasure builds and I need to feel him in me.

“I want to try again.” I move myself, no longer over him, but sitting beside his long muscular body, stroking him, watching his hungry expression.

“You don’t need to,” his voice catches in his throat.

I straddle him, rubbing myself onto him over and over. “I want to.” I sigh, feeling all that velvet smooth hardness sliding over my most sensitive parts. his fingers dig into the sheets and I feel powerful, confident, from this position, there is no shadow of fear. There is just Gale spread beneath me, his need apparent on his face, his eyes watching me, drinking me in. Lifting, I coax the tip of him into me, I feel myself part beneath him and tense my muscles, he groans at the ripples he feels, holding onto my hips. Not forcing me down, just waiting for my choice.

I lower, slowly, each inch sliding deeper into me until I engulf him and he breaths a needy sigh. I rock, backwards and forwards, my hips find a rhythm and he rocks with me, joined together, riding the passion that flows between us. He reaches his hand between my legs, finding that small bead of flesh and rubbing it, bringing my pleasure closer. I gasp, and look down at him, my lover. I feel as though my heart will burst in my chest, a tight feeling that is consumed by the warmth that flows through my body, I can feel my legs shaking and then such a flow of sensation through my body that I cry out. His hands clutch at my hips and he rocks into me, shouting out his pleasure within seconds as mine forces him over the edge.

We both lie in the warmth, feeling the aftershocks of our pleasure, reveling in a well won battle. He lifts his head, resting on one arm, watching me.

“you continue to amaze me.” He sighs. “That was truly what you wanted?”

“It was, I rest on his chest, idly twining my fingers through the hair there, listening to his heart beat. “I was not going to let them have domination over this part of our lives.”

“I’m glad.” You should rest. He kisses my forehead. “I have a day planned tomorrow.”

“Rest yourself.” I smile, “I need to catch my breath.”

“In honesty, I have not slept since last night. There have been changes…” his eyes close and for a moment, there is a faint nimbus of purple light around him, glowing in the guttering candlelight. “….I’m not sure how far reaching, but my body is different, it doesn’t seem to need anything to sustain it.” He shields the light again, back to being my Gale. “Truth be told I’m not sure I’m entirely…. Human anymore.”

I lie in silence. He is changing before my eyes, each moment, more of his humanity falling away. Will we even make it to our 10 days?

“but I want to lie here with you and feel you in my arms as you sleep.” He holds me close. “I will protect you.”

“From what?” wondering what would be foolish enough to break into a wizards tower.

“From everything.” His voice is indescribably sad. “I almost failed you once, I could not bear to do that again. Goodnight my love.” He whispers and I let my muscles relax and sink into sleep.

Chapter Text

When I wake, Gale is not there. For a moment I panic, but I hear him whistling in the next room and breath a sigh of relief. In the light of the morning I find my desire for him already a dull fire in my loins and I pull a loose robe over my naked body before I pad into the main room. He is flicking through a book, comfortable in a chair next to the empty fireplace.

He stands, pulling me towards him, sliding his hands inside the robe and over my skin. “You’re still warm from sleeping.” He muses, stroking my back and sending little tendrils of enjoyment shivering through me. “You are irresistible.” He slides one hand down towards my buttocks, stroking the dimples he finds there. Leaning backwards, he surveys me. “I must keep reminding myself that this body and mind of yours is far from fully healed. If last night taught us anything, it is that we must be considerate to dark shadows impinging on our pleasure.” His face is serious. “You must promise that if ever I make you uncomfortable, your warning will be immediate.”

“I do promise.” I reach up to kiss him, cupping his face in my hands, letting my robe fall open. “but now is not that time.” I enjoy his reaction to my body and gently push him into the chair. He looks pleasantly surprised as I straddle him, kissing him deeply as he runs his hands up my back, gently scratching the skin there. I pull at his shirt, needing to feel his skin on mine, he lifts his arms as I pull the garment clumsily over his head and throw it across the room.

The bulge in his trousers tells me that he is already aroused and I slide my hand down, unbuttoning his waistband, releasing him. He sighs, springing forth perfectly erect, and in my morning desire I slide my eager wetness over the head and down his shaft, sitting impaled on the full length in seconds.

“You are hasty this morning.” He laughs, kissing my neck, allowing me to lean back and start a slow rocking on him that builds languorously. “you will think me ungentlemanly”

“This is what I want.” I gasp, letting the rocking build, feeling the strong base of him rubbing on my most sensitive parts.

“As the lady wishes” he sighs, moving with me. Rolling my nipples between his fingers as his kisses devour me. “I would never deny you pleasure”

I move my hips, feeling that warmth build. “So good.” I whisper too him. “You feel too good.”

His hands move to my hips, feeling the rhythm, joining me. “This will be over too soon.” He grimaces, “But if that is what you wish.” I can tell he is holding back, watching my face, waiting for my pleasure before he allows it for himself. My eyes are closed, there is a build of pressure and I dig my nails into his back. He groans. “you are making this very hard.”

“let go.” I whisper, and he does so, groaning as he buries his face in my shoulder. I hold on, wrapping myself round him as a gasp out my pleasure. After a moment, when my legs feel sure, I stand, he watches me hungrily, seeing the marks of his enjoyment running down my thighs.

“You are remarkable!” he buttons up his breeches, tucking himself back inside. “whatever did I do to deserve you.”

Once we are washed and dressed – with a certain amount of distraction – we leave the tower and make our way down to the docks. There, Gale has chartered a ship, it’s rigging brightly decorating with flags and its crew smartly decked out. He helps me aboard and we make our way out through the harbour walls and leave the city behind us, as we head out to open water. Leaning on the taffrail, the wind ruffles our hair. I turn to look at him, to find he’s looking back at me. He tucks an errand strand of hair behind my ear and smiles at me.

“Standing by your side, here, today, it hardly feels real.” He rests his hand over mine. “I always wanted to show you Waterdeep and here we are.”

“It’s an amazing city.” From the boat I can see the grand buildings of the city in all their glory.

“I was wondering.” Gale turns to take my hands in his. “Back in Baldur’s Gate - I’m not sure if you recall – I asked if you would consider becoming part of the Dekarios clan.”

“I do.” He looks relieved. “I remember agreeing whole-heartedly.”

“Thank goodness. I hoped you’d say that. How do you feel about making it official. Nothing fancy of course, My mother, Tara, and our motley band of fellows?”

“Who might I remind you are still in Baldur’s gate.” He waves his hand dismissively.

“I’ll get a message to Shadowheart tomorrow and they can all be here the next day, if you’re amenable of course.” He smiles hopefully. “It would mean so much to me, please tell me you feel the same way.”

I do, of course. I love him. But this is another reminder that we are trying to cram an entire life into ten short days. It stings, even as it delights.

“It would make me the happiest person on Faerun.”

“Excellent! that is a relief. "Gale grins and reaches inside his shirt. “I got his from my mother this morning, It would have been terribly awkward if you’d said no.” he opens a small box and inside is a ring, white metal holding a sea green gem. He places it on my finger and it resizes to fit me, another example of Gale’s new found skills, effortlessly manipulating the world around him with little more than a thought.

“It’s beautiful.” I stare down at it. “An heirloom?”

“On my mothers side, yes.” He takes my hand. “It looks very well on you.”

“So. When?” I look out at the ocean.

“I thought three days hence. That’s enough time, surely.” He smiles at me. Mother will be ecstatic, but disappointed not to fill a cathedral with her cronies.”

“As long as you’re there we can get married anywhere.”

Tara and Morena whip themselves into a planning frenzy. All I want to do is spend time with Gale, but I am pulled from pillar to post, being fitted for a spectacular gown, tasting desserts and choosing flowers. Small this wedding may be, but Morena is determined that it will be a paragon of taste. Gale bears it all with a rueful smile.

Before we even know, our small wedding has grown into something of a society event. The mystery around the imminent – and somewhat rapid – marriage of Wizard Gale Dekarios, and the woman who finally ensnared the bachelor, is the most talked of subject for weeks. The guest list grows from the original handful to enough to fill Selune’s cathedral.

Between the planning and the chaos, Gale and I grab moments together. Walking in the gardens hand in hand, cuddled up on the terrace as he reads to me, a blanket over my legs or just lying on the bed watching him work at his desk.

I watch him often. When he is distracted, I see the sighs of the weave flowing through him. He is doing all he can to appear normal, but sometimes his eyes glow purple and I can feel the crackle of energy through his skin. The weave is turning him into something new and he’s doing what he can to hide it from me. He’s fighting a loosing battle with Mystra, and I wonder what will be left of him by the time our ten days are up.

Whilst the wedding preparations proceed, Gale shows me his workroom. The large open space at the bottom of the tower has a large circle of runes inlaid in the wooden floorboards. He warns me not to enter the space within the runes, standing in the circle and promising to be back within the hour. The runes glow purple and a coruscating wind flows up around him. His hair floats in the air and his eyes glow deeper and deeper until he vanishes.

I wait, nervous that he might not return. Knowing that it will only be an hour, but each minute dragging on. Eventually, the runes started glowing again and the purple haze in the room increases.

The first figure I see is the towering shape of Halsin, easily a foot taller than everyone else. Then I can pick out Lae’zel’s lean form, Shadowheart’s silvery hair, and the louche form of Astarion. Jaheira and Minsc are standing just to one side their close bond always keeping them aside from the main group.

Gale stands in the minute, a glowing figure more energy than flesh. After a second the light fades and the rooms seems dark

“A most efficient way to travel.” Jaheira muses.

Shadowheart comes to me immediately. “I could not believe the news. Such glad tidings after our previous talk.” She takes my hands in hers. “And Gale has his magic back, also an unexpected turn of events”

“Did he tell you how?”

“No, he said all would become apparent after the wedding. I guess there is a story attached to his restoration.” She looks around the room as though seeing it for the first time.

Gale is ushering our guests out of the room. A heap of bags and packs are left by the door, he glances back at them with an absent minded look and with one small gesture of his hand they vanish, delivered to a local inn where we have taken over the entire upper floor.

“And what a restoration it seems to be. It would appear that our Wizard has grown in strength since I last saw him.” She looks curiously at me. “Mystra is not known for sharing too much of her power, it must be a fascinating story indeed.”

We leave together. I link my arm in hers as Gale goes ahead to direct the rest of the party.

“I was honoured to be asked to officiate at this celebration. I have spoken to the Selunites here, they are excited to meet me. My turning from Shar to Selune is being seen as a huge victory for the moon maiden, as well as my association with Dame Aylin…. Well it’s been a bit overwhelming if I’m honest.” She looks around as we enter the street. “And this, the famous tower at Waterdeep.”

“It is.” I smile, her presence calming me. “Waterdeep is a remarkable city.

In the street our group is waiting for us – it takes me a moment to realise that Astarion is also standing in the sun. his attractive features are darkened and distorted by some sort of dark lilac field.

“Isn’t it fabulous darling.” he twirls on the spot “Your delicious wizard made it for me.”

“Sadly it’s not permanent.” Gale admits “but it’s a sort of portable bubble of compressed darkness…. Odd I didn’t think of it before. I’ll cast it on an amulet later I think, I can probably get it to last a few hours at a time before it needs to recharge….” He trails off in thought.

I smile at him, this is such a Gale thing to do, focus on some small piece of fascinating Arcana when he is to be wed in two days and kidnapped by Mystra not long after that.

The inn is a short walk away and the group seems in good spirits.

“Chk, I never understand why you istik are so determined to complicate your lives. Is it not enough to find a true flesh bond, without making a ceremony of it?” Lae’zel was certainly getting interested looks as she walked through the city, the only one of us still in full armour.

“To want to connect is second nature to everyone.” Halsin’s good natured tone reaches back through the group, his deep voice resonating. “To many, the culture of the Githyanki would be seen as strange.”

“The istik are weak, THAT is their nature” she pauses. “but perhaps you are right, these last few months have shown me that maybe there are things I do not know.” She turned to glance at Gale. “And they are both warriors in their own right, it makes a sense of sorts.”

The inn is a large building, set around a central courtyard of trees and flowers. Halsin and Jaheira relax noticeably. I appreciate that being in a city of this size must be hard for the both of them.

Inside the innkeepers attitude towards our odd party could not be pleasanter, but I know that much money has changed hands already and coin always seems to make people more accepting, especially in Waterdeep. The top floor has enough rooms for all our companions.

“Well aren’t you a sweet thing.” Astarion looks into his own room. “Separate rooms for all these days. We’ve certainly moved up in the world.”

“We thought you might like some privacy.”

“Are you talking about my…. proclivities?” he leans on the doorframe, “or were you and your charming wizard planning on visiting me later.” I tip my head on one side, one eyebrow raised. “Oh well. Never mind, you can’t blame a boy for trying.” He kisses me lightly on the cheek. “You do smell good though, reminds me of old times. The door’s unlocked if you change your mind.”

He slinks off and closes the door behind him. Gale walks up behind me, touching the small of my back lightly.

“Astarion being….? He trails off

“Just usual Astarion.” I turn to him. Stepping forward into an embrace. “Apparently, the door’s unlocked if we want to visit.”

He looks amused. “I’d be worried if he didn’t proposition you.” He kisses me, before turning back to the rooms, some doors open, others closed.

“Drinks are on the house friends" he calls out. "See you downstairs when you’re refreshed.”

Chapter Text

The night is like a memory, like one of the nights in Elfsong, where we would sit around the hearth, patching up wounds. Or a night in the wilderness, where we would find solace in what food and drink we could scrape together and which Gale would cook into something passable every time. Only tonight, there are no wounds and the food and drink flows smoothly.

Everyone is in good spirits, sharing tales and discussing what has been happening in the time since we were together. We raise a glass to Karlach and Wyll, solemnly wishing they were here. The tavern empties, leaving just us, a close group reveling in the memories born from hardship.

As the night drifts on, Gale leans in towards me. “Much as I’m enjoying this. I have unfinished business with your beautiful body.” He kisses me on the neck. “Do you think our friends would mind if we returned to the tower.”

“I’m sure they would understand.”

“I could take us straight to our bed, but It’s only a short walk and would be pleasant.” Gale stands, brushing off his trousers and helping me up. We make our apologies, to kind smiles and knowing glances. Astarion winks, the offer still standing it seems

Outside the air is cool, Gale takes my hand in his and we walk through the well it cobbled streets.

“Did you tell them?” I assumed he hadn’t, given the jovial atmosphere.

“I felt it best to let us all enjoy the wedding before allowing the clouds of sorrow to descend.” He takes off his cloak and wraps it round me. I notice that his skin is still warm, no hint of a chill at all. “And in two days you will become Lady Dekarios.”

“Wedded bliss for five days.” I sigh.

“A honeymoon of types.” He smiles as we arrive, whispering the word that opens the door to his tower. Inside it is warm and we make out way up the coiling steps to our bed chamber.

“So, my love, the day has been long. Shall I escort you to your sleep…. Or….” He tilts my head to kiss my neck. “The choice is yours.”

“I don’t want to miss one opportunity to be with you.” I run my fingers through his hair.

“Lady’s choice” he runs his tongue along my collarbone. I know that he is still terrified of bringing me back to the night of our assault and the fear I felt. Every night since he ensures it is me that sets the tone and pace of our love making. So far, the shadows have stayed away.

“There is one thing.” I say, before leaning in to whisper in his ear. He is startled.

“I didn’t think…. His voice trails off “Wasn’t expecting. Are you sure?”

“I’m trying to fit a whole lifetime into 10 days.” I remind him. “Are you saying in an entire lifetime you would not have been slightly curious?”

He nods, “I would, but I think it’s fair to say my past has ensured I am thoroughly cured of some curiosities.” He looks down at me. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you. You know that, I could not enjoy anything we did if you were at all discomforted.”

“Agreed then.” I take his hand and gently pull him towards the bedroom. Although I know he wants this, it’s as though I am leading him towards something terrifying. “We will try and if I change my mind I swear you will be the first to know.”

“Will you permit me to use some magic tonight, for your comfort if nothing else?” he asks as we enter the room. I nod, slowly starting to remove my clothes, while holding his gaze. He might be reticent, but his body is hungry for me. He stands a distance away as I fully disrobe, drinking me in with his dark eyes intense.

I climb onto the bed, continuing to back away until I am in the centre, before lying back and beckoning him to me. He comes to me in a rush falling over me in a haze of kisses. I pull at his clothes, tearing them off as he helps, never lifting his head from the almost frantic kissing of my face and neck.

He makes his way down my body, slowly focusing on each area, spending time kissing my neck, my nipples, trailing kisses down my stomach and plunging between my legs, making the satisfied noises he always does when he is worshiping the softness there. When I an panting and writhing on the bed he lifts his face, slick with my juices.

“You’re sure?” he strokes my stomach.

“I am,” I turn over and ever the gentleman, Gales slides a pillow under me, lifting my hips. He runs his hands over my back and down, smoothing the skin there, stroking the round globes.

“It’s a beautiful view from here too by the way.” He lowers, biting one of my cheeks gently.

The scented oil from the previous night is gentled massaged over my back and buttocks until one finger slides lower, making egress into that other small hole. He massages the tiny pucker, re-coating his finger and sliding it gently in. I sigh, the sensation of fullness a surprise, but not unpleasantly so.

“Is it ok my love?” he pauses as I nod, before sliding his finger in and out of that greedy hole. The sensation is intense but not unpleasant. The finger Is removed and I feel oil running over me, making me slick, the finger returns rubbing oil further into that tiny hole, stretching it gently, before another finger moves inside. The sensations increase, still not painful or uncomfortable, but different to anything I’ve felt before. I moan slightly, surprising myself. Gale immediately stops, until I urge him on. “As you wish.” I can hear the humour in Gales voice as he stretches his fingers slightly apart, stretching me wider, continuing to move those oiled digits in and out.

“We can stop now if you want. I have violated your lovely body enough.”

“Pleasured, Gale Dekarios, not violated.” I am breathless, it is not in pain. “I want you to carry on.”

“Then let me add something to this next part.” He lifts me to my hands and knees, there in the middle of the bed. Positioning himself behind me he pushes gently, for a moment there is no movement and then suddenly the very tip of him slides in. It is a shock, I draw my breath suddenly and Gale freezes.

“No,” I gasp, “It’s good”, wanting him to carry on.

He inches forward, taking care not to hurt, the feelings are intense, but grow more pleasurable as he proceeds, drawing slowly out before gentle moving back forward.

I feel hands on my breasts, teasing, and another between my legs, gently stroking. I look down to see Gales’ hands, made of phantom lilac light. I moan gently. “I wish they were your real hands.”

They’re a new spell.” His voice is choked. “I can feel everything they’re doing it’s very…. distracting” he pants slightly, “these velvet depths have almost rung me dry, I’m not sure I can hold off much longer. I wish you could see how you look, it’s intoxicating”
The sense of him moving within me, and the teasing hands, pulling and taunting at my most sensitive parts is intense in ways I had not expected. “I wish I could see that too.”

“Close your eyes.” He whispers, and I do.

In a moment I can see myself, on hands and knees, body glistening in the lamplight, I am looking through Gale’s eyes and I can see myself as that glistening long length moves in and out of my body. I can feel the sensations too, on top of my own, the tight warmth, almost too tight, gripping him. He is enjoying my little pants, my little moans.

For a moment he opens himself to me, just as it has been with the parasites and I’m caught up in the maelstrom of his feelings, a sense of privilege that I’m letting him use my body thus, overwhelming joy at the trust I have in him and the force of his love for me, like a beacon in the centre of his chest, as all consuming as the netherweave orb, but so much more gentle.

He’s so open to me, so laid bare that I can even see beyond that. He doesn’t realise that as well as the pleasure, he’s showing me the most broken parts of him. There, in the background is the crippling fear that he cannot escape, the sense of loss, the guilt of what he’s put me through and grounded into that, the terror that he will never, ever be enough for this world, no matter how much he tries.

I cry out, in sorrow as well as pleasure, my body is gripped in the absolute all-consuming sensations, and I beg him to finish with me as I can feel that delicious sensation building in my stomach, his pace becomes more rapid and it tips me over the edge. He shouts out his pleasure too, almost collapsing over me.

I will say that was unexpectedly pleasurable.” He blurts out as he lowers his body down to the bed. I lie next to him collapsed on the bed in the warm afterglow. “But I still think your other more err….. traditional destinations are probably my favourite still.”

I laugh. “I agree, but I am glad we did that.”

“You never mentioned a desire to explore that aspect of love making before” he leans up on one shoulder, gently running his hands over my hips. “Is it something you’re well practiced in?”

“Not at all.” I move to lie closer to him, needing to be near. “We’ve both had other lovers – although none of mine were deities of course” he inclines his head in acceptance. “I wanted something that was totally new to me, something that I could experience with you for the first time.”

“As it was for me, my love.” He kisses my forehead. “delightfully new.”

I cuddle into his warmth and he pulls the covers over me, holding me close, even though I know he won’t sleep.

I struggle to sleep myself. Before he excised me from his mind I saw something else, the flash of a deep secret, the horror at what he’s becoming, the glamour that he’s maintaining to keep it from the world and the absolute determination that no one will ever find out.

Days fly by, either taking time for just the two of us, the seemingly never ending list of wedding tasks, or our friends finding ways to amuse us. Every night I fall asleep in his arms, and every morning I wake to find him eagerly scribbling at his desk. If I ask him what he’s doing, he kisses me and just declares that it is ‘boring paperwork’.

Suddenly, it is the morning of our wedding.

The night before the wedding, Morena wants me to stay overnight at the Dekarios manor, but Gale – seeing my face fall – puts his foot down and swears faithfully to see me delivered first thing in the morning and she capitulates.

That night he is especially tender in his love making. Watching my every movement even more than usual. I fall asleep exhausted from him wringing the pleasure from my body time and time again. This morning I wake and he’s still there, lying next to me, so still in the morning light, just holding me.

“You finished all your paperwork?” I muse sleepily.

“I did.” He smiles, kissing me on the forehead. “Are you ready to get married my love?”

We dress and I eat, Gale, watches me as I do so. Outside is a carriage adorned with gold ribbons and pulled by two white horses. The neighbours watch as we make our way through town. At Morena’s house, the gates are covered in cream and white flowers and more gold ribbons. Gale walks me to the door and places my hand in Morena’s, bidding her take good care of me. Then he is gone, the carriage whisking him away, where Astarion and Halsim are making up an unlikely troop of groomsmen back at the tower.
Inside, the atmosphere is tense, although Morena is smiling broadly. Shadowheart is sitting aside, a wry expression on her face, her silver white gown is shining in the morning light, the symbol of Selune around her neck, She is to be the officiant and she looks radiant. As I am furnished with tea to energise me for the day ahead and I sidle over to Shadowheart to find the source of the tension.

“Of all things, Tara asked Lae’zel, if she might wear a dress.” She inclined her head in an amused manner. “It was not taken well.”

I looked over to where the tall Githyanki is scowling across the room. In her defence, her brown leather trousers gleam, and the tunic is clean and well cut, if a little severe. For Lae’zel, this ia an honour indeed, and for once, she isn’t wearing armour, a huge concession to the importance of the day

Jaheira is radiant in a fitting green robe, and I wondered about Karlach. She would probably have loved to wear a fine dress…. Something in red, trimmed with leather. I am sad for a moment. Friends missing and this celebration today, with only Gale, Tara and I truly knowing what the next five days will bring.

I am ushered into a room where a small cohort of women take control of my body, rubbing my skin with lotions, brushing and styling my hair and fitting me into the most beautiful gown I’ve ever worn. It is cream with gold lace and when I look in the mirror, I remember the long hard days on the road, the blood, the pain and the squalor. Standing here in this dress, It seems so far away and yet I know it was only a few months ago.

“You look beautiful.” Morena clasps her hands in front of her. “And I’ve never seen my son so happy.” She pauses for a second, before sitting herself in one of the many plush chairs in this room. “I know about Mystra by the way.” She looks down at her hands and I let her speak. “I tried to keep him away from her, but what is a mother to do.”

“You knew?” I wonder how much exactly she was talking about.

Morena looks up at me and holds up one hand, in the centre of her palm a small white flame dances. “Oh yes, I know the weave, I’m nothing compared to my son, but the Dekarios line has always had some sort of connection, great or small. You could say that the magic is in our blood.”

“Does Gale know?”

“I’ve never really hidden it, but equally, I don’t really use magic, this is about as much as I can do, so it never really came up.” The flame vanishes, sinking back into her skin. “I have some useful gifts around food and drink. The tea never gets cold.” She smiles. “But I do know Mystra’s touch when I see it, and she was all over my boy.”

“He doesn’t think you know.” I wonder if knowing would have made a difference to Gale, held him back maybe, but I also know that before I met him, in the height of his power, his ambition was boundless. I doubt he’d have cared if his mother knew.

“Probably best.” She pats my hand. “I’m not expecting you to tell me anything by the way. That’s up to Gale if he chooses to. I also don’t know what happened over a year ago, but I know it was something that rocked his very being. I assumed she’d just got bored, found a new paramour, but now I’m not certain…” she trails off. “And I also know that something else is going on – a mother’s instinct if you like – but I’m not expecting you to tell me that either. I’m sure you both have your reasons.

I don’t know what to say, it’s an unexpected revelation.

Morena carries on. “Whatever is going on, he seems content for the first time in many, many years. I believe I may have you to answer for that.”

“We saved each other.” I answered simply. Staring past her into the mirror, about to become a wife for five days.

Chapter Text

In the temple of Selune I stand alone, with Shadowheart waiting serenely in front of me. I am to the left of a small marble stand, the accouterments of marriage laid out before me. The temple is full, Waterdeep weddings are apparently open to the public, and there was sufficient interest in such an interesting match and rushed date, to fill all seats.

Gale arrives with Halsim, who seems more bodyguard than usher and Astarion, cocooned in his bubble of shadow, looking ravishing and mysterious, loving the fascinated looks he is getting. In typical wizardly fashion, Gale wears a long gold and cream embroidered robe, buttoned up the front and with a high heckline framing his face. It is cut to the hip along the side so that he can walk freely and it moves around him as he strides down the aisle, smiling. He sees no one but me and I – equally – see nothing other than his approach.

The ceremony is simple, We hold hands over the table and Shadowheart binds a silver cord around our hands and wrists, calling on Selune to bless the union. I wonder how Mystra feels about being excluded from her chosen’s blessing, I wonder if she’s even noticed. Once a brief canticle is recited, we are officially wed.

“if I’d known it was so easy, I think I’d have wed years ago.” He whispers, leaning in and kissing me lightly, our hands still bound together. “Lady Dekarios, my love.”

“Does that make you Lord Dekarios.” I smile up as him.

“Strangely no, the title is on the female line, you inherit it now. If you wish.”

“I’m honoured to be known as such. It’s a part of you after all.” He takes my hand, and we make our way back through the temple, where Morena is weeping into a handkerchief and Tara is looking like the proudest Tressym in Waterdeep.

Outside, our carriage whisks us away to a nearby festhall, where a feast fit for royalty has been laid out. We are given prime position at the top table, although we spend most of the time being introduced to one noble family after another. I hang onto Gale’s hand, this is his world, and I would rather be sequestered away in the tower with one of his fine wines, listening him to read to me than be surrounded by strangers.

Lae’zel draws some curious stares, but the guests are polite enough not to comment and she seems oblivious. Halsim seems to be charming a group of attractive young debutants, and I wonder of them will be in his bed tonight. Jaheira is attempting to reign in Minsc, who appears to be regaling a group of baffled looking gentleman with tales of his (and boos) heroic stands.

I pick at the food, whilst Gale takes none. I wonder if anyone notices that he just sips wine now.

As the day draws on and the sky darkens, Astarion dispels his shadowy shield, appreciating the murmurs of admiration as his pale skin really glows in the candlelight of the room, drawing the adoring gaze of many of the young socialites. He licks his lips and I watch him swagger over to a group of young men, his target apparently fixed on for the night.

Gradually the day starts to draw to it’s natural close, some people leave, others pair off into the corners to become better acquainted. I am sitting on a large padded love seat leaning on Gale, when I feel a strange ripple run through him and he almost doubles over in pain.

“It’s nothing, nothing.” He gasps quietly into my hair, covering the spasm as a moment of affection. “It’s just been a long day.” In a moment, it ends, and he is his normal self again, self-depreciating smile. “Trust me to wait so long for this day and then to spoil it at the end.”

“You’re not well.” I’m worried, I can’t help it.

“I will be.” He squeezes my hand. “How would you feel about saying our goodbyes and returning to our little haven of solace.” I nod and he stands on the platform, lifting me to my feet.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for joining us on this, our most precious of days. It has been a delight, but I feel this is as good a time as any for my new bride and I to retire for the evening.” He pulls me towards in, wrapping me in a warm embrace.
“Lets give them something to remember” he whispers into my hair and for a second the world is all purple, as we are surrounded by coloured ribbons of light. I can hear the excited conversations spilling from the room as we suddenly materialise in silence in his workroom. The soft light and peacefullness is a marked change from the energy of the festhall. “a remarkable day my love” we stand in the middle of the runed circle. “but it is pleasant to be back.”

“I’m worried about you.” I hold onto him, there standing in the middle of the room. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Get yourself to our marital bed and I will be in your arms soon, I just need to be by myself for a moment.” He strokes my hair. “I promise.”

“I will hold you to that husband.” He smiles and ushers me out of the room, closing the door behind me. I stand for a moment outside. Even through the ancient oak, I can feel the weave. Whatever he is doing in there is crackling with magical energy.

Upstairs the tower is as warm and comfortable as ever. The centre of his universe I muse, the centre of mine too now. The room smells like him, it’s as though the imprint of him is in the walls, the floors, the drapes around the bed. He is a tangible presence in this room even when he’s not here.

I wonder how many weeks or months it will take for that presence to fade. I am suddenly gripped by the reality of our situation. The wedding had kept me busy, kept the darker fears at bay, but now. In the quiet of that room, looking out over the bay, it floods back to me.

I grab one of the many warm blankets around the tower and make my way out to the terrace. Across the city our friends are still celebrating. I imagine Astarion enjoying the pleasures of a young man’s body, but on his terms and in the way he wants. Halsim will give one lucky guest the time of their life. Jaheira and Minsc will while away the night, reminiscing over old friends and Lae’zel, well who knew what dark interests she would find at a society Waterdeep wedding.

Out on the terrace, I settled on Gale’s favourite bench and watched the stars in the night sky. I dozed, just enjoying the fresh air on my face and the warmth of the blanket around me. Eventually, sleep grasps me and I drift into dreams.

Gale wakes me, gently touching my face. “I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful, like an angelic being, a fantasy.” He lifts the blanket and slide underneath. Despite the coolness of the night, he is warm.

“is it late?” i cuddle into him and he sighs.

“Very. I’m so sorry, it’s not what I intended, not how I imagined our wedding night.”

“If one thing has always been true it's that the usual rules don’t really apply to us.” I listen to the beating of his heart. “what’s happening? I wish you’d tell me.”

He sighs. “I’m actually not sure – which I absolutely hate saying, as I’m sure you must know.” he sighs, stroking my hair. “but my broad understanding is that it’s a little like Karlach’s heart. Mystra started the process to make me her chosen as soon as I agreed, but this sort of energy was never meant to permanently exist on this plane. I’m trying to hold it all together, but the weave is changing me. I can feel it remaking me and I can’t stop it." he sounds so sad, my heart hurts for him. "I no longer know what will be left of me when these ten days are up.”

Five days. That’s all we have. And in a cruel twist of fate, they pass all too quickly. Gale’s condition worsens. He will not allow me to see how bad it is, only lock himself away in his workshop deep in the tower for hours at the time, before returning to me looking exactly as before. When I ask him what he’s doing, he tells me that he is rebuilding himself, laying his old self over the tumult of the weave.

There are good times too. Just being with each other is enough for us. We can excuse our behaviour with the ruse of a newly wed couple. Any insult implied by our total absorption in each other is easily ignored by our friends and family. We rarely leave the tower. It truly is now the centre of our universe, a centre that has reduced to just the space within these walls.

Gale’s love making is almost fervent. As touch starved as had been after his experience with Mystra, his language of love has always shown in his touches, each one a subtle connection and reminder. But now, now he spends hours just touching me, especially in bed where he strokes the planes of my arms and legs as though he is trying to fix the feel and shape of them in his mind. He is determined to bring me as much pleasure as possible, it is as though he is trying to fix himself to this place with my memories of our times together.

Minutes become hours and days march on. The last day is the hardest. I feel like a ghost and he is clearly struggling to hold himself together. We close the drapes to hide the sparks and flashes of lilac power that he can longer keep contained. He is terrified of touching me most of the time and I can see the pain in his eyes. Our last day, marred by the damage that the weave has done to his corporeal body. He paces around the room as though walking might burn off some of the energy within him.

Today I hate Mystra like I have never hated her before.

As night falls, the darkness seems to ease his pain. We sit on the terrace, watching the sun descend, one last weary journey just for us.

“My last night, under a canopy of stars, beauty and wonder” he looks at me on those last words. “I remember saying those very words to you, when I thought I might have one more night to live. Now it seems we are here again.”

“You’re not dying.” I say the words, but I know the lie is written plain on my face. For me, he may as well be.

“The effect on those I love will be the same. And I…. I will be imprisoned for ever by one who I once loved, by one who honestly believes she has bestowed a gift on me.” He stares out at the darkening sky. “It’s not fair. I chose you. I turned my back on godly power, on Mystra, on my ambition. I chose you. Why does she get to force me backwards in my desires”

There are no words. I hold his hand. A futile gesture.

“Ten days, my love. It was not enough….” He sighs. “and she stole a number of those hours back from us as well.”

“How do you feel.”

“Angry for the most part.” He sighs. “And my heart feels as though it could burst from within my chest with all this fire and magic, and all on top of this ache I have.” He looks at me with serious eyes. “The tower is yours by the way. Under Waterdeep law you own all that I have. The tower is yours and in due course the a Dekarios manor will be too. We’re not rich by Waterdeep standards, but my family is well off and you will never want for anything.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“But I do.” Gale insists. “You can stay here or you can sell it all and go wherever you want. Start again. Live your life. Be happy.” He lays a finger on my lips. “And before you say you can’t be, you must be. Wherever I end up, my only way of accepting it is to know that you are happy.” He sighs. “I could never share you. I saw how the others were, so free with how they loved, but not me. Once I found you, once you told me that you loved me, I couldn’t let you go. I could never watch you in the arms of another person. It would kill me, I’m just not that sort of man. But when I’m gone I want you to find someone. It will happen and I know you so well, I know you’ll fight it, but you can’t. you must love again and, wherever I am, I will know and it will make eternity bearable.”

He looks so determined that I just nod.

“Do you promise me. Here and now, that if love presents itself you will embrace it.”

“I promise.” I hate saying the words, but I have to, I can see his eyes, this means so much to him.

He sighs, almost relieved, before pain flashes across his face and his hands spasm. “Truth be told. I’m not sure I can hold on until midnight.”

“It pains you?”

“I think fighting it makes it worse.”

“Stop fighting it then.” I grasp his hands in mine. “just let it go.”

“I don’t want you to remember me any other way than this.” His voice is choked

“Just do it, before you burn up in front of my eyes."

He lets go of me, stands and moves to the centre of the terrace, a safe distance away. Clenching his fists he lets out one deep ragged breath. In front of me his skin cracks, light appearing all over his body. Before I can take a second thought the heatless fire burns through. Everything that he was vanishes in impossibly bright burning purple light and I cover my eyes. The light dims.

“Can’t you even look at me?” the voice sounds distant. I look over. Gale is a shimmering mass of pure weave, his hair moves around his face like a mane and his new body is a transparent web of stars stretching into infinity. His eyes a glazing purple fire, staring down at me.

“You’re beautiful.” I gasp, standing and moving to him. I try to touch him, but it’s not flesh, it’s like touching pure energy. My skin tingles.

“it feels….. easier now to be like this” he admits. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“what will the neighbours think.” I am aware that lilac light is spilling out from the terrace, illuminating the harbour.

“For the tower of a mage, they’ll probably think it’s quite apt.” Gale reaches for me and I am pulled into the circle of his arms. I can feel him, but it’s different, the weight of his body is there, but it’s like nothing I can describe, a swirling, moving sensation under my skin. I feel the warmth of his love and regard, it feels safe.

“Can we stay here?”

“Just like this?” Gale sounds amused. “if you want.”

We stand there on the terrace, bathed in light, energy and fire. The sun finishes setting and the stars came out and still we stand. I’m lost in the moment until I hear the chiming of the clocks across the city as they start ringing in midnight.

Gale looks down at me, eyes filled with infinite sadness.

“I will never forget you.”

His voice is nothing more than a whisper and then the world goes dark.

Chapter Text

Tara finds me moments later, sitting on the floor of the terrace my back against the wall, not even caring that the night is cool and the stonework is even colder. She pads across tiles almost cautiously.

“He is gone then.” She stops in front of me. I nod, too numb to even cry. “Master Gale bid me come here after the midnight hour. He felt that whatever transpired, I might be needed.”

“You should have seen him.” My voice sounds strange, even to me. “He was made entirely of the weave at the end, just light and energy. It was beautiful.”

Tara comes to me and places her head gently on my knee. I know that she is humbling herself and even at that point, I am sensible of the honour she does me. “You know he would not have left if he had a choice.”

I nod. “but what do I do now?”

“Right now? I suggest sleep.” There is suddenly a goblet of wine next to me. “There will be time tomorrow to consider the future.”

“Is this the same as….” She nods. This time I am grateful for the drugs. I down the wine in two gulps as I make my way into the tower. I look towards the bedroom, but I cannot bring myself to sleep in that huge bed alone. I curl up on one of the sofas, dropping the goblet to the floor, a trickle of wine sinking into the floorboards. A soft throw floats across the room, tucking itself around me, and the last thing I see is Tara settling down on one of the armchairs nearby, watching me. Protecting me in my sleep just as Gale once did.

I sleep deeply. There are no dreams, for which I am glad. When I do awake, it is already well into the day, but Tara is still sitting neatly in the chair next to me. I feel groggy, my head is heavy and yet I feel strangely empty.

“You didn’t need to stay.” I sit, noticing that I am still in yesterdays mussed clothes.

“Master Gale would have my fur if I did not.”

“I think you’re safe, he’s gone after all.” My voice is bitter, but I can’t help it. I stand, surveying the room.

“The principles still apply. He was my friend and you are also my friend.” She jumps down. “Are you hungry?”

“Not at all.” I pad around the room, aimlessly wandering, there’s an emptiness gnawing at me, but the thought of food makes me nauseous.

“You should eat.” I give her a withering glance and she tilts her head on one side. “As you wish.”

I continue my pacing, trying to get my mind in order. When I reach his desk, there is a package of letters, placed centrally on the embossed wood, tied together with a gold ribbon. One of the ones from our wedding. I untie the bundle, flicking through the stack, the names come thick and fast, Mother, Shadowheart, Halsin and so on until each of our companions has also been written to.

I now know what he was doing every morning at his desk.

“He wrote to everyone, so that you didn’t need to explain.” Tara continues.

Underneath the stack is yet another letter. On top of it a cream rose, the same hue that was in my bouquet at the wedding. Six days later and it is still in perfect condition, seemingly held at it’s peak. Underneath the rose, that one final letter with my name on, and a folded scrap of paper. I stand staring at the letter for some time. I don’t even want to pick it up. If I pick it up, then everything will be true, I know that everything will be real and I’m not ready for that. I unfold the scrap of paper. Inside is Gale’s cursive script.

‘My love, to save you the pain, I have written to everyone who I believe should know what has happened. If you want to tell them yourself, that is of course your choice. But if you would rather send these, just speak the phrase at the bottom of this note and they will be delivered. I just ask that you not delay too long, especially in the case of my mother, who deserves to know. My love, my heart, my always, Gale’

I do not even delay, I speak the phrase and watch as one by one the letters shimmer and then fade, until there is just a ribbon, a rose, and an unopened letter with my name on.

“Tara?” I stand staring at the letter.

“Yes my dear?” she pads across the room standing next to me.

“After Gale was infected with the orb he shut himself into the tower. Do you know how he did that? Could you do that?”

“I could, if you wanted to, but I’m not sure….” She trails off.

“Please do it.” My voice is quiet. “I just need not to see anyone for a time.”

There is a faint popping noise and the feeling of the air around shifting. “It is done.” She sounds so sad. “No one but you and me can gain access to the tower now.”

“Thank you.” I turn and make my way into the bedroom. “Could I have some more of that wine.”

“As you wish.” I can hear the worry in her voice, the disapproval, but the wine appears by the bed. I remove all my clothes, leaving them on the floor, crawling into the bed and allowing the rich red wine to lull me to sleep. Sleep where are there are no dreams and nothing to feel.

I spend the next few days mostly in a drug fuelled sleep. Tara ensures that food available when I wake, and I eat what is put in front of me, enough to sustain myself, but mostly I just want to sleep. People come to the tower, but the wards hold and despite their persistence, I am unmoved.

Whatever is in the wine brings sleep, but without the inconvenience of dreams. I am terrified of dreams, terrified to see his face or even think of him. I hold off the inevitable by removing myself from the world.

I become a pale, transparent version of myself. But I will not cry, cannot cry. There are no tears.

On the third day, Tara refuses to bring me anymore wine. I plead with her, but she is unmoved. I finally see the tenacity of the little Tressym that Gale spoke so often of.

“I will not, and nothing you can say will change my mind.” She is perched on Gale’s desk, upright as a statue and just as unwavering.

“Please!” I am practically on my knees, begging her. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Don’t I?” There is a steeliness in her tone that makes me really look at her. In the last few days she has also lost weight. The glossiness of her coat has gone and the sheen on her wings vanished. “Young lady, I was his companion since his teenage years. I have known him for a very long time and whilst I understand what you’re going through, you are not the only one who is grieving.”

I sit on the floor heavily, her words taking my feet from underneath me. “I’m sorry.” I mutter.

“That’s better, and you are – of course – forgiven.” She jumps down to the floor to stand in front of me. “Avoidance is not the same as acceptance. You cannot run from the truth, you must face it and move through it.” She puts her head on one side. “I would be a poor companion indeed to Mister Dekarios if I permitted this to go on any longer.”

She nudges one of my hands with her warm nose.

“You will read that letter and I will open the tower. I will then arrange for warm water and a decent meal to be brought up. Quite frankly, the smell is becoming distasteful and you look like a shadow of your former self.”

She leaves me sitting there on the floor and I feel the weave shift as the tower reopens. There is suddenly a breeze in the room and I realise how stuffy and close the air has become. I am aware of the stale smell of my skin and the itching of my scalp.

Standing, I stare at the letter on the desk for some time before I reach for it and open the seal. When I do, there is a sudden scent of rosewater. Gale must have written this quite close to the end. I slide the paper out of the envelope, holding it for a moment in shaking hands before opening it.

‘My Love, I started writing this letter many times, and each time, I failed and threw it in the fire. There is no way I could say everything I wanted in one letter, no more than we could live our entire lives in ten days, but I will try, to do otherwise would be unfair.

The greatest regret of my life is that I did not meet you before I met Mystra. If I could replay all the years of my life, the only change I would make was to meet you before she got her claws into me. I think of all the time I wasted, and the errors I made, and I wonder what my life would have been like if our eyes had met over a table in the library or if you had been one of those young ladies in Elessors and had distracted me from my book. If anyone could have distracted me from my book, I know if would have been you.

It is such a short time since we met, and yet it feels like I have known you forever.

I love you, more than anything, more than myself and more than the world around us. I never thought it was possible to love someone as much as I love you, I thought it was a myth, written by bards and perpetuated by the romantic. But I was wrong, and you showed me what true love actually was. There is not a day that has gone past where I did not wake up and thank you for that gift.

I would have sacrificed everything for us, but that was not to be. In the end, I just had to sacrifice us, for you. And as angry as I am at the world for forcing me into that situation, I do not regret the decision I made.

I wanted to live a full life with you, all the amazing things we would have done. I had visions of thousands of days ahead of us and all the things we would discover, the places we would go. I had such hope, being in your orbit gave me hope, you were the glowing sun around which I would build my world.

I know that this isn’t death, although that may actually have been easier. I reconciled myself to death a long time ago. This is separation and when I think of it, it feels as though I’m being torn apart. I suppose that’s what happens when you are so integrally connected to someone, soul to soul. If you separate, it is like having a part of yourself torn away.

And this is why I know I love you more than the weave. When Mystra tore the weave from me, it was agony, but I survived. I’m not sure how I will survive this, being torn from you.

Whatever happens, know that Mystra is getting a weak, shadow of a man as her chosen. I leave the best part of me - my memories, my hope and my love - with you. She will not have them. Cannot have them.

I must go. You are stirring in the other room and I want to be there when you awake and open your eyes. I want to be the first thing you see.

To my eternal love
Your Gale’

When Tara returns, I am crumpled on the floor sobbing as my heart breaks over and over again.

Chapter Text

I wash and dress. Suddenly everything in the room is a source of acute sadness for me. The clothes I wear that Gale helped choose, the food I eat, which we once ate together and the very air around me, still scented by him.

I hurt. There is a literal pain in my chest, it feels like a block of ice, sharp and unyielding. All the feelings I suppressed come back with a vengeance and I struggle to breath as each wave of shame and sadness rolls over me.

Gale is gone and can never return.

Tara returns as I am brushing my hair. She nods approvingly and tells me food is ready. In the main room of the tower is fruit juice and a plate of cold cuts, pickles, bread and cheese. I force myself to eat until my stomach threatens to rebel, even though half the plate is left untouched. Tara grudgingly accepts that and I am released to sit on the terrace, wrapped in a throw against the increasingly chilly air. In my lap I hold a book - the book of the night – I stare out at the ocean, the boats silently making their way into the harbour.

I think about Gale. I remember his smiling face as we would sit on the terrace, the sun illuminating the faint creases by his eyes and highlighting the coppery threads in his hair. If I close my eyes I can imagine him here, sitting next to me, pointing out something in a book he has found, sitting in companionable silence. Just being here.

But he isn’t here, he is out there somewhere – Mystra has him and has won.

My face is wet. I didn’t even know I was crying, until a tear reaches my lip. I wipe my face and allow myself to feel anger rather than sadness. I will never forgive Mystra for this.

“Someone comes.” Tara calls from the main room. “The one with white hair, she is worried about you.”

Of course it is Shadowheart who would come. “Let her in.” I sigh. I have to face the world at some point, she is the best possible option for aiding my re-emergence to the city.

I wash my face again, easing red eyes and blotchy skin. By the time she enters I am relatively normal again, the sadness held back behind the surface. She immediately rushes across the room to take my hands and all the hard work to hide the sorrow fails and my tears come spilling out at her concern. Tara makes a subtle retreat from the room, as a pot of tea and two cups appear on a side table.

“I am angry beyond words on your behalf.” Her eyes spark with righteous fury. “How dare she, how could she do that.”

“She’s a goddess.” I wipe my running eyes. “I doubt our feelings are of much concern to her.”

“She does not deserve him. After everything she put him through. It is unconscionable.” She paces across the room. Her anger a salve to my sorrow. I am not alone. “Tell me everything. I’ve been so worried since I received that letter, and the tower shut up tight. I feared she had done you injury too.”

“That was on me.” I admit. “I needed…… time.”

This calms her. “Understandable.” She sits and takes a few deep breaths. “I am sorry for my anger, it was born out of fear and frustration….. and a good measure of sadness.” She opens the teapot, hiding her emotions by stirring the brew. “So much now makes sense. Your hasty marriage, the return of Gale’s powers, the amplification of his abilities.”

I sit across from her. “He didn’t want to worry you all. We just wanted to enjoy the time we had left together.”

“That wizard needs to learn that secrets benefit no one. Has our time together taught you both nothing.” She pours the tea, handing me a cup.

“What would you have done? Fought a goddess?” I smile at her and she smiles back.

“It would not have been my first, and not even our first.” She pours her own cup and holds it thoughtfully on her lap. “Although I will concede, some of those were only the chosen of the gods, so maybe my ambitions far outstrip my abilities there.” She smiles at me sadly. “All joking aside. We could have been there for you, helped you, supported you, as you did for us. You need not stand alone in this.”

I nod. “But I am alone.” I cannot stop the tears rolling down my face. “I simply cannot bear the thought of never seeing him again.” Shadowheart watches me in silence, letting me mourn in my own way. “I know he is alive, out there, but he may as well be dead, given that we are separated for eternity, the effect is the same for both of us. I want him back, I want him to find his way back to me.”

“As a priestess of Shar, I would have told you to abandon hope and accept the darkness.” Shadowheart sighs, sipping her tea. “It is an impossible choice.”

“Of those I currently have ample experience” I interrupt, she inclines her head, accepting the truth.

“I would bid you have hope, but I fear it would merely be the pin you fix you to this grief.” She looks thoughtful. “Perhaps in this Shar is right.” She holds up her hand at my shocked expression. “Hear me on this. I know you. I know how you love Gale. If there was any chance that he might make his way back, you would cling to that hope like a single candle guttering in a storm. You would never let go and you would hide in this tower forever, never moving forward, just stagnating in your grief.” She sighs, deeply and sadly. “You must let him go. For you and him, eventually you must move forward and say your goodbyes. Love the memory of him, but learn to live without him – however you can.”

“I don’t know how to at the moment.”

“Nor should you, but in time, in time you must. And we will all be here should you need us.”

That night I lie awake, sleep will not come. I suppose that so much time spend forcing myself into unconsciousness has disrupted my body to the point that natural sleep eludes me. I doze occasionally, dreaming in odd bursts of voices trying to rouse me, flashes of purple light, and a sense of being lost or alone, eventually waking un-rested and nervous.

I finally go and see Morena. I can tell that she does not believe the letter Gale sent, I can tell that she has also spent her fair share of days weeping and I can tell that she wants her son back so badly that it’s an almost tangible yearning.

I try to dissemble, I try to stay honest to Gale’s wishes, but I cannot. I finally capitulate and tell her the entire tale, everything I know, everything Gale has relayed and everything we lived through. The reveal – together with questions from Morena and additional responses from me - takes two entire pots of tea and a significant depletion of the household’s brandy supply. At the end, we are both spent. She stares at her hands folded in her lap.

“My poor boy.” She sighs. “I should have done more to protect him.”

“I’m not sure you could have. She’s the goddess of magic and he would have found a way to her no matter what you did. Chances are, the more you tried to push them apart the faster he would have run to her.”

She laughs. “You do have the measure of him, don’t you!” she swirls the brandy in her glass. “So much ambition, even when he was young. I just wish he’d told me himself.”

“He wanted to protect you.” I stare at my own glass. I know the deep love Gale has for his mother, would have done anything to spare her pain. Would have done that for me too, only it was too late, I was already enmeshed in the entire painful saga. “He didn’t want you to worry about him.”

“Then he’s a very foolish boy, I am his mother.” she puffs out her chest. “He may be the hero of Baldur’s Gate, but I will always be his mother and I will always worry about him.” She sags slightly. “And what of you my dear, you’ve had to endure this all by yourself. How are you faring.”

“A little better.” I concede. “Tara is keeping me in order and I have friends, good friends, who will be there for me.”

“As will I.” she takes my hand. “We can be there for each other.”

Shadowheart is true to her word. The group rallies round. Every day one of other of them visit, sitting with me or walking in the sun with me.

Jaheira takes me to the parks and we walk mostly in silence through the trees and manicured pathways. In shared sadness she talks about Khalid, the name of a lost love from so long ago, and of Dynaheir, but begs me not to mention that name to Minsc. Minsc joins us occasionally. Then we talk of Aerie and Imoen. Heroes who I heard about in my childhood, but for these two they are memories that seemed to happen only yesterday

Halsin takes me out of the city into the mountains, where we hike trails up into the hills and look down on the city. From here everything seems so small, and it gives me perspective, as well as tiring out my body and helping me snatch moments of sleep.

Shadowheart demands I show her the city, and I take her around the sights that Gale showed me. We explore together, finding exquisite tea shops with Calimshite delicacies. I even take her to Elessors, where she marvels at the amount of clothing and lets me buy her a silver dress embroidered with Moons.

Lae’zel has found a training ground and there she makes me practice fighting with her, showing her kindness by only inflicting half the bruises she could. She calls me T’lak’ma Ghir and I know in her strange way that this is her love for me. The pain in my muscles eclipses the pain In my soul.

Astarion seems to feel the loss badly. On the outside he is the same, if more cutting and barbed, but when he thinks people aren’t looking, there is sadness in his eyes. I catch him staring at the amulet Gale made him more than once.

It is night. Astarion always looks best at night, the contrast of his pale skin and the darkness is a pleasure to behold. He knows this and without even meaning to, is posing on the balustrade around the balcony.

“You simply must leave this musty old tower darling. It’s so hideously out of fashion. I mean, what a cliché, an actual wizards tower!”

“I like it.” The days have moved on and the autumn is turning to winter. I’m wrapped in one of Gales old robes, dark blue in soft velvet, it leaves his smell on my skin and hair. “I feel safe here.”

“I’ve never really been one for safe.” He muses. “At least it has an excellent cellar.” He sips his wine and saunters over to me. For a moment he looks down and then there is a peculiar expression on his face. A mixture of horror and desire. “You smell like him, but like you too.”

“I know. It makes me feel better.” I close my eyes and hold the robe close to my face, breathing in. When I open them, Astarion is on his knees, his face almost in my lap, breathing in equally as deeply.

I do not move, waiting for him to do – or say – anything. When it comes, it is the smallest of voices.

“I loved him too you know.” He looks up at me and his eyes are redder than normal. “Both of you. More than I should. More than is safe for someone like me.” He takes my hand and holds it to his face, nestling his cheek there. “I asked him if I could join you once, just to be there, experience what you had together. He said no.”

I could imagine. Halsin had also asked and Gale’s answer had been kind, but firm. I just hadn’t been aware that the pale elf had spoken of it.

“I’m sorry.” I leave my hand where he holds it. Astarion has always been excellent at hiding the pain behind barbed comments and biting wit. To see him so vulnerable is a shock.

“He told me that he cared for me too, but that it had to be just you and him. He told me I was too beautiful. He feared you would forget him if you were with me.” He laughs and stands, pacing the room. “That was the first time being beautiful was the cause of me NOT getting laid, imagine that.”

“He said he loved you?” I am surprised, I hadn’t known Gale felt that way.

“Yes. In his own way.” He holds the amulet in his hand. Looking at it lovingly. “This little thing is a miracle. Six hours of sunlight a day. And he made it sound as thought it just…. came to him.”

“He was brilliant.” I smile.

“And he was beautiful.” Astarion looks at me tears in his eyes. “He kept telling me that I was too much, too lovely, but I felt the same way about him.”

“So did I.” I stand and pull him into an embrace and we both cry.

“I thought that one day, there might be a chance. To be with the two of you, the people I love most. But that time has gone and now there’s just” he pulls away from the embrace and waves his hand vaguely in the air. “This. All this….” He seems lost of words. “…sadness and loss. Emptiness and absence. I dislike it. It feels….. like an end.”

I don’t know what to say. So many revelations. Thinking you know someone and then finding an unexpected aspect of them. It almost made me love Gale more, I didn’t know why.

“It is an end.” I admit “We all end.”

“You know, that might be the problem.” Astarion admits, as we both stare out at the ships passing in the night. “I’m not sure I will.”

Days pass. Sleep continues to elude me. There are no dreams, just half formed nightmares of light, disembodied voices and a sense of loneliness that threatens to overwhelm me. I manage snatches of rest between periods of fixated wakefulness. I try to nap during the day, but something is picking away at my mind, an irritating restlessness. When I nearly fall downstairs in my exhausted state, Tare concedes and offers me the sleeping draft again, but I refuse. The deep dreamless sleep that it causes doesn’t feel like healing to me, but the opposite.

I persist, walking around in the day like a shadow, lying awake at night watching the light from the ships in the harbour cast light on the ceiling. I get out of bed, going to get Gale’s letter which I have read and reread a hundred times, the folds in the paper becoming deeper every time. I place it on the pillow next to me breathing in the rosewater and warm dry grass smell I associate with Gale. Trying to imagine him lying next to me, his breath on my neck. Tears roll down my face.

“Ah, my love.” A gentle sad voice in the darkness, the faintest glow of purple light throughout the room. “Please don’t cry for me.”

Chapter Text

I’ve never risen from a bed with such speed. Immediately, I’m upright. There, at the foot of the bed a pale lilac figure sits. Hazy and indistinct it might be, but it is absolutely Gale. I crawl down the bed towards him, only to find my hand passing through a cloud of vapour and shining lights

“I’m sorry.” It is Gale’s voice, but indistinct. “It doesn’t work like that, I’m not really here.”

“Where are you?” I sit back on my knees.

“Elysium.” He sighs. “It’s meant to be paradise, but I’m finding it far from that. How long has it been?”

“27 days.” I can see he is tired. His face looks drawn, but I don’t know if that’s him or just the image he’s portraying. “How long for you?”

He pauses and a pained expression passes over his misty features. “Years. But I miss you now as much as I did when I first said goodbye. I thought it would pass, but it hasn’t. She is……” he pauses shaking his head. “…displeased.”

“Mystra?” he nods. I curse her in my mind. “What did she expect.”

“I believe she thought we would pick up where we previously ended our affair.”

“So you haven’t….” I trail off.

“Gods no!” Gales anger is tangible and for a moment, crimson sparks flood through the gaseous form. “I’ve made it very clear that here I am, and here I will stay, but not contentedly and certainly not in her bed!” the image stabilises. “I am yours forever. I have made that apparent. I don’t believe she is used to being refused.” He smiles ruefully at me. “I just had to see you.”

“I’m glad you did.” I move to sit next to him.

“I’ve been trying to come to you in your dreams, but I couldn’t reach you.”

Suddenly my nightmares make sense. The light, the voice calling for me, the sense of utter desperation and isolation. I was feeling Gale as he reached for me. The horror of those sensations fills me up. I might be suffering here, but it is nothing to how he is feeling.

“I think I felt you.” I pause. “it was…. not pleasant.”

He slumps. “I’m sorry, it’s hard to be myself, everything here is sense and emotion. It’s overwhelming at times. I imagine very pleasant if you are happy and content, less so if you’re angry and miserable. I shouldn’t have come to you.”

“No, I’m happy you did.” I reach my hand to where his is and lay it in the same place, I cannot sense him, but just the act makes me feel somewhat closer.

“How is everyone?” we sit side by side, making small talk even though one of us is a disincorporated cloud of light.

I tell him about Morena and how she knows the truth. About our friends being there for me. Even about Astarion. “He says he loves you.” Gale nods. “And that you love him too.”

“In a way.” Gale concedes. “Not in the way I love you though.” He shrugs. “I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“He thinks you’re beautiful.” I smile.

“Well there’s no accounting for taste.”

“I think you’re beautiful too.” I stare at him. His face, light and stars. It is still the same handsome face. I wish I could touch it. “You always did look down on yourself somewhat. I blame Mystra.”

He laughs and it’s the best noise I have heard in 27 days. “Don’t we all.”

“Can you stay?” I look up at him. I wish he were here, but this is the next best thing.

“A short time.” He smiles at me. “But I’m not sure I should. I just wanted to check upon you, but it was selfish… I fear I’ve given you hope, when there is none.”

“it’s better than you not being here.” I want him to stay so badly.

“No.” He is firm. “It’s not. I made you promise to move on, and if the disembodied ghost of your ex-lover keeps turning up, that’s never going to happen.”

“You’re not dead.”

“I may as well be.” He looks forlorn. “I won’t come again. I promise you.”

“Don’t say that.” I try to hang onto him, but there’s nothing to hold onto, he is smoke and whispers, nothing to grasp. “Don’t go.” I whisper, but already he is fading. There is a brief touch of something on my lips, the barest touch, like the ghost of a kiss.

“Let me die”. Gale’s gentle voice whispers and is gone.

The next day I retreat back into the deep misery I had suffered on my first days after he left. It is as he said, I cannot let go. Cannot treat him as though he were dead. Everything tells me that he is alive, I know he is trapped, but he is alive and I can’t let him go.

My obsession grows. I find myself poring over books in Gale’s extensive library. Searching out every text on the chosen, on Elysium, on contracts with higher powers. I become convinced that the answer is between these pages. Somewhere in one of these books will be a solution. My companions visit, but I am too busy to see them and they sit with me as I make copious notes on increasingly vague texts. I don’t notice them leave, head buried in my books, eyes blurry, working until late at night, rising early in the morning and retaking my position at Gale’s desk.

At least I sleep. It seems Gale was committed to his gesture of letting me go. The nightmares have passed. I dream; pointless, banal topics that disappoint me. I want him to return to me. I need him back and I am convinced that somewhere within his library is the book I need.

I eat and sleep. I wash and dress myself. But these are necessary actions to fuel my research. I send Tara out to find increasingly obscure texts. Just as she sought out magical items for Gale, she seeks mystical tomes for me. She delivers and sits across the room. Watching me work.

“You remind me of him.” She offers one day, as word for word I translate an ancient brittle tome into common. The work is hard going, the language obscure, but I feel this might be the missing piece I need.

“I do?” I comment absent mindedly. The text references an ancient contract made between Waukeen and a destitute king to wed his daughter to a high priest.

“Yes, back when he was searching for the Netherese tome for Mystra. He was equally as obsessed.”

Her words drop like weights into my mind. I lay down the quill next to my parchment.

“Really?” I turn to look at her.

“Yes.” She licks her paw primly. “he thought every book held that one final piece of information. If he could just find that one fragment of knowledge, all would be well.”

“You think I should stop?”

“Honestly? I think he’d be disappointed in you.” She jumps over to the desk and sits next to me “You taught Gale that the pursuit of forbidden knowledge can be dangerous, that ambition can be our undoing". She looks at the pile of books next to me. “You’re not living. You’re not moving on.” She indicates the mirror hanging on the far wall. “Look at yourself.”

I stand. Back hunched and joints aching. The face in the mirror is haggard, eyes red and hair a matted tangle. “but he’s miserable Tara.”

“I know.”

“How can I leave him like that.”

“by respecting his choice and doing as he asked you.” She watches me, her gaze steely. “He will be watching you, and I promise, this life you’re living will only be making him more miserable. He bid you live and be happy so that he could be happy. You’re not doing either.”

“So I give up?” I pause, words catching in my throat. “I let him die?”

“If that is what we must do, then yes.” she looks at the parchment on the desk. My writing a near incomprehensible scrawl. “This…. Folly is benefitting no one.”

“Gale’s folly…” I muse. “And now my folly also”

She nods. “Let him go. If we can accept he is gone, maybe he can accept his new life.”

Months pass. They pass like a weight being lifted from my chest. Each day a little easier. Each night I say a prayer to Gale. If he does ascend, I will be his first devotee. I tell him that I miss him, I wish him all happiness and I promise to try and move forward. Every day I take one more step away from him.

I reconnect with the outside world. It is winter now. Cold and bleak at the best of times. Worse when your heart is as cold as the snow that falls. Inside the fires burn. Tara and I find an easy rhythm to life. My friends travel, return and visit. I stay, cocooned in my tower, safe within the centre of my universe.

I am Lady Dekarios, the strange solitary woman in the tower. Eventually even the matrons stop gossiping about me and I fade from public view. I find a sort of peace, pottering around a city that is now my home, a gentle sort of happiness.

Sometimes I think I can smell rosewater. Some nights I think I see a pale purple haze in my room. Once or twice I find a cream rose on a table or by my bed. He is there, with me in his own way, but he does not appear and gradually, I accept that he is gone.
I let him die.

The hardest thing I have ever done. Harder than mind flayers, harder than condemning your friend to hell, harder than dragons and elder brains.

Saying goodbye.

Until the weave breaks

Chapter Text

Rumours usually move quickly in Waterdeep, but the gossip around the malfunction of the weave starts in the autumn with a few abstract comments that are dismissed as idiots yet to be in control of their craft, or idle fantasy. Initial tales of cantrips failing to function, or spells having undesirable and sometimes dangerous consequences are cast aside as hysteria and misunderstanding.

However, as time goes on, the whispers get louder. By the time winter has it’s grip on the land everyone is aware of the problem, even those who don’t dabble in the arcane arts. The universities cannot fathom why, they can only glean that that the situation is getting worse. The clerics’ spells continue to work, it is just the weave that seems fractured and twisted. Even more concerning is that this abnormality is an issue affecting Waterdeep only, outside the city the weave is as strong and impregnable as ever, but inside, it seemed damaged, broken, twisted.

The situation gets worse, spreading to all areas of the city. Soon it seems that almost all spells are effected, either weakened, failing altogether, or not fulfilling their intended function. Then a simple spell goes awry, demolishing several houses and killing many, the government declares magic banned in Waterdeep until a solution is found. The mages pack up their households and leave, while the city posts notice of rewards for anyone who can solve the weave malfunction. Many try. None succeed.

In all this, Mystra is quiet. It seems as thought she herself is absent from the city.

I have been out shopping for new winter boots, it’s been a harsh season, The matrons in Elessors no longer talk about weddings and future matches, but now only discuss the weave malfunction, wondering what will become of Waterdeep now. All the mages are leaving? Will the universities close? What will become of the city of wonders if there is no magic?

I am curious, can’t help it. The weave was Gale’s life. If he had been here I’m sure we would have packed up and left weeks ago – or he’d be poring over old books trying to find a solution. I long ago gave up listening to the City’s rumour mill, but this is something different. I pay for my boots and leave. Outside is all slush and Ice, a chill in the air that promises of more snow later. I wrap my cloak around me as i make my way back to the tower. It is one of Gale’s, thick wool, edged with fur, but It no longer smells like him. It’s as though he is vanishing from the world every day, his scent gradually dissipating as he goes. I have made my peace with this.

The tower is warm and bright as I approach. Tonight I am expecting Shadowheart, who has been on a pilgrimage to Moonsea. Her reputation increases every day, but she regularly returns to Waterdeep with stories of her successes and influence. She is a daughter of selune, corrupted by shar and returned to her mothers favour. The bards adore her.

There is someone waiting at the door of my tower, a heavy cloak shielding them from the cold. I call my greetings to Shadowheart as I get closer, the promised snow starting to fall. The figure turns.

It is not her.

“Elminster?” I pause in my approach, more than a little surprised.

“My dear” Bitter day for travelling don’t you think, wouldn’t step outside in weather like this unless it was for the utmost import.”

“What are you doing here?” I pull my cloak closer and move to open the tower door and step inside away from the inclement weather. I assume he is here to see Gale, maybe ask for his help to solve the weave malfunction “Gale is…..” I pause, unsure of how to inform him, especially knowing his relationship to the source of all my troubles.

“No need to concern yourself with explanations my dear, I know where Gale is.” Elminster hurries inside, despite not being invited. “Might a weary traveller be allowed to petition this household for a glass of wine and maybe some vittles? It’s been many a moon since I was here, but I recall the Dekarios wine cellars and larder were always available to those in need.”

Sighing, I lead him up the stairs. The tower is warm and safe, but I dislike him being here. I know his reputation as a great and good man, but for my part he has always been integrally linked with Mystra’s interference in our lives and the delivery of nothing but bad news.

“I hear congratulations are in the highest of orders. I’ve been told that you are now the Lady Dekarios, master of this tower?”

“By necessity, not choice, am I master of this tower.” My tone is less than polite, but he does not seem to notice.

“I was sorry to miss the celebrations. Such things are a tremendous joy, especially to celebrate the nuptials of a young man who I have known for many a year,” I grit my teeth as I lead him upwards. The old man seems oblivious to my anger.

As we enter the main room, Tara awakes from her usual seat in one of the wingback chairs.

“Elminster?” she is clearly as shocked as I am.

“Lady Tara, glad to see your tenure here endures. It would not be Gale’s tower without your esteemed presence.”

“It is not Gale’s tower. It is mine. And she is my friend. What you are, remains to be seen.” I stand, arms folded, daring him to comment. Tara is shocked, and if I am correct, slightly impressed. She excuses herself to arrange food. I am left in the room with a man who once held the estimation of my lover, but who I find myself resenting almost more than I can bear.

“I understand your animosity my dear, really I do, but I would not have come here if it was not the most critical state of affairs.”

“You ‘understand’ my animosity? Do you? Do you really? Your ‘goddess’…” I use the term derivatively “…has made life hell for Gale and I, and has finally succeeded in ruining our happiness forever. I am abandoned, FIVE DAYS after my wedding and he is trapped – miserable and lonely - in Elysium, against his will and for eternity.” I breath heavily. “So you can trip over your tongue to be polite and espouse some sort of desperate situation that needs an immediate response, but right now I am somewhat reluctant to hear you, as you have been nothing but the bearer of bad tidings for me and the man I love.”

There is silence. He looks shocked and even I am surprised by my outburst.

“Loved.” I amend, forcing myself to be calm. “Gale is gone. Forever. There is no one here to help you.”

“I did not come here to see Gale.” His voice is calm, even sad, and it tempers my anger. “I was sent to speak to you.”

“by who?” My words are hard, I dare him to answer – already knowing what he will say. There is only one person whom he would be sent on behalf of.

“Mystra begs me to come speak with you.”

I throw my hands in the air, laughing bitterly. “Really? I doubt there’s anything she could say that I would care to hear.”

“She is not as unfeeling as you believe.”

Rage suffuses me, and for the first time ever, the tower responds. The strangest of feelings, as the stones around me resonate to their owners will. The fires flare to life, the candles roar. Suddenly the room is brighter, warmer, and I stand in the middle of the rage, letting it feed me.

Tara rushes into the room, calling my name over the crackle of fire. Her copper fur is glowing in the light. Elminster stands unmoved but with a look of sympathy on his face. I force myself to calm. Sitting down on the chair next to the fire and indicating the seat opposite. He sits and I watch him warily. A plate of food is delivered by one of the household staff, he bows his head in deference and I thank him. There are no more magical deliveries of food and drink since the magic ban – we must all now traipse up and down the stairs. The plates are laid on a table next to Elminster, together with two goblets of wine. He graciously inclines his head and starts to eat. I do not. I have no desire to break bread with this man.

“Mistress of this tower indeed.” He says between mouthfuls. “Mind you, a good blaze is needed on these cold nights.”

“I’ll hold back my curiosity, while your appetite is sated, but not for long.” I sip my wine. “My courtesy to you is due entirely to your friendship with Gale. You may have proven yourself to him, but you have yet to do so to me.”

“Words spoken plain” Elminster is taking his time over the meal. “And I understand your position in this matter. Believe me when I say that I would rather be in a warm tower of my own rather than rushing about the realms, freezing my old bones.”

“I’m starting to believe that Mystra is entirely too heavy handed with her followers”

“Aaahhh, You may have a point my dear, but she has great gifts to bestow when the mood takes her.”

I ‘harumph’ under my breath and sit in silence watching him eat.

“My compliments to the chef.” Elminster finally puts his plate back on the table, and I drum my fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair. “And as promised, to the crux of the matter we go. I’m sure you have heard, and may even have noticed, that the state of magic in Waterdeep is in flux.”

“There have been rumours.” I comment dryly.

“Mystra fears that this is the start of something greater, that unless something is done, the entire magic of the region, possibly even of Faerun, might unravel.”

“A concern indeed, but I’m confused why this has any relevance to me. If the goddess of magic and the greatest wizard in history cannot solve the problem, I fail to see how a widow from Waterdeep can.”

“Mystra believes that you are uniquely placed to help solve the problem.”

“A story I’ve heard before. I suggest you and Mystra come up with a new tale. This one is getting tired.” I stand and start pacing the room, attempting to keep my anger in check, lest I burn the floor from underneath our feet. “This is exactly the same speech as you gave Gale when you declared the only way to defeat the absolute was to destroy himself. You were wrong, so you’ll forgive me if I have less than stellar faith in Mystra’s prophetic abilities.”

“I understand your doubt.”

“You keep telling me that you understand me, yet you are standing in my house preaching some - quite frankly – insulting rhetoric, which I do not wish to hear. If the fate of Faerun’s magic is indeed at risk, I suggest you, or her, actually do something about it this time, rather than ruining more people’s lives.”

“She has tried and failed. As have I. Believe me. This is a last resort. I know you bear Mystra some ill will….

I laugh bitterly under my breath, but Elminster ignores the sound, continuing.

“…but this is her very last chance at saving the Weave. She has asked to meet with you.”.

“I must regretfully decline her request.” I smile, sipping my wine.

“I’m do not believe it was a request.

“I’m not sure I care.”

Elminster sighs deeply. “She swears to me that if you come speak with her, you will see Gale again.”

There is such a storm of emotions in me I’m amazed the tower doesn’t collapse beneath my feet. Anger, confusion, shock, sadness, and over it all hope. The same hope that laid me low so many months ago.

“I don’t believe you.” I say quietly. “Your goddess lies. She’s done nothing but lie and dissemble since I first met Gale. You won’t draw me in so easily.”

“she may not always reveal her hand but she does not lie about the cards she holds.” Elminster stands. “And right now, she holds Gale in the palm of her hand.” He turns to leave. “If you decide to speak with her, meet me at Mystra’s temple, The House of Wonder, first thing tomorrow. It is your choice.”

He pulls his cloak around him and leaves the room.

We hold a council of war, or at least it feels like it. Tara, Shadowheart, Astarion and I sit around the fire, watching the shadows dance on the wall, discussing the offer.

“I really don’t understand what the problem is.” Astarion is lounging on one of the couches, looking impossibly graceful, probably by design. “We go, talk to her royal weaveness and find out what the hells is going on. We owe our sweet wizard that at the very least.”

Shadowheart looks concerned. “I think we should be cautious. Dealing with gods is never straightforward.”

“And dealings with Mystra have proven herself to be... Tara pauses “….particularly complicated.”

“It’s GALE!” Astarion looks horrified. “You can’t tell me you’re actually thinking of not going? Especially you!” he looks directly at me, one head tilted to the side.

I wonder about what Shadowheart said, about hope being the pin that fixes you to this grief. I’d accepted that Gale had gone but that sense of hope is a pinpoint of light ahead of me.

“I just don’t trust her.” I admit. “She’s already proven that she will sacrifice any of us in order to achieve her ends.”

“We don’t have to take any actions though.” Shadowheart’s hands are in her lap, but her fingers and clenched, knuckles white. “We could just listen. I can’t feel there would be any harm in that.”

“Tara?” I turn to look at her, perched on her favourite chair, closest to the fire. she shrugs the best the Tressym can without human shoulders

“I think you need to decide yourself. I’m not the best person to make this choice.”

“You would go then.” I know she’s trying not to influence me, but she nods.

I’d known deep down that this decision had been made the moment Elminster mentioned Gale’s name. As Astarion had said - this was Gale – he’d have sacrificed himself ten times over just to save any of us. Even if I hadn’t loved him as I do, we all owe him the same.

“I’ll go first thing.” I clench my fists into balls, feeling the nails dig into the skin there.

“I’ll come with you.” Shadowheart smiles gently at me.

“And if you think I’m missing this, you’re even more insane than I originally thought.” Astarion leans back on the couch smiling to himself.

That night I dream of Gale. It’s the first night in a long time that I’ve dreamed of him, but I suppose it’s to be expected. That tiny kernel of hope has been growing bigger and bigger since Elminster mentioned his name. No wonder i dream about him.

I’m naked in our bedroom, lying on the expansive bed. With the amount of time we spent here, the scene is familiar and comforting. Gale is lying on the bed beside me, leaning up on one elbow. His naked body shining in the lamplight. He runs his hand slowly down my body, skimming my nipple lightly, as he touches me with a feather light caress.

“You feel good.” He smiles at me, with adoration in his eyes.

I take the hand and gently suck one of his fingers into my mouth. He lets his head fall to the side, His hair falls over his face. “You feel good too” I am enjoying the sight of his naked body and the sensation of his leg against mine.

He pulls me close, so that my entire body is stretched against the length of him. “This body, it’s as familiar as my own, more so in fact.” His hands run down my back, his face nestles into my neck, biting the skin, kissing the rapid pulse beneath my skin. My head falls back, it’s been a long time since I dreamed of these sensations, even longer since I felt them.

“You always know how to make me feel good.” I run my own hand along his body, down his hip.

“I do?” Gale pushes my gently onto my back and looks down. “Well that’s a pleasant thing to hear.” He lowers his head to my stomach, placing one delicate kiss on my bellybutton.

I sigh, watching him, dark hair unkempt, curling around his face, dark eyes flush with warmth.

“Of course, we spent enough time practicing.” I laugh gently as his mouth kisses lower, one small touch after the next. He looks up at me, smiling that warm genuine smile that I have come to associate with him. Sliding one finger down, into my warm wetness. I gasp. It has been too long and even this small touch undoes me utterly.

He pushes my legs apart gently, lying down and sliding his tongue between those fold, prying them open with his fingers for better access. His tongue swirls around that knot of nerves and I arch my back, falling into sensations I have not felt for a very long time.

He lifts his head, smiling at my reaction. Staring up my body, as a slow, gentle finger slides in and out of me, tempting, but not enough.

“I wish I knew who you were.” Gale tries to return, to place his mouth over that warmth and wetness, but I stop him with a hand on his head.

“You know who I am.”

“No.” he looks at me. “I made you up. You’re a dream” he lowers his head again. “A very beautiful dream, but a dream nonetheless.”

“Gale.” I draw his attention. He looks up. “Do you know where you are?”

“Right now?” I nod. He looks confused “I’m in Waterdeep. I’ve been here forever.”

The dream shatters and I wake suddenly, cold in a room that’s empty but for my ragged breath.

Chapter Text

Any doubts I had the day before are dispelled by the morning. Astarion and Shadowheart arrive at the tower and I discover that we are all wearing our weapons and equipment from the days back in Baldur’s Gate. It’s as though we know there will be a fight.

I tell them about the dream as we walk through town in the grey light of the early dawn. I am still doubting what happened. I’m hoping that Shadowheart's wisdom and Astarion's ability to cut through the superfluous might help me see the truth.

“So was it a dream?” Shadowheart asks. “It seems as though there may have been a hint of Gale there too, but confused? Lost?”

“I’m not sure. If it was a dream it was certainly ominous…”

“Dream or not. It sounds delicious.” Astarion is twirling a knife in one hand. “How did your lovely Gale look.”

“The same.” I smile to myself. “It was…. very realistic, and good to see him again. I worry about forgetting his face.”

“Like you could.” Astarion prods me gently in the shoulder. “Or other parts of his anatomy either.”

“We need to be sensible Astarion.” Shadowheart’s hair is tied back in the same way as it had been when I first met her, and her armour shines. There is something reminiscent of Dame Adlin about her, a righteousness that suffuses her entire being. “We may be walking head first into danger.”

“Well, we’re just excellent at that.” Astarion looks severe for a second. “Plenty of practice.”

The house of wonder is glowing in the pale dawn light, the weave suffusing the stones and creating gusts of light and energy around the towers. Outside, Elminster waits in the centre of the wide stone staircase. I walk towards him, Shadowheart on my right and Astarion on my left. For the first time in a long time I find myself slipping into the habits of the old days. With these two either side of me, I can face anything.

Elminster’s face darkens slightly as he sees us armed and armoured. “My dear, Is this really necessary? she only wishes to talk.”

“We’re planned for any eventuality.” I fold my arms.

“And the invitation was only intended for…. well….. you.” He looks flustered

“I’m not talking to her unless they come with me.” I am unmoved and I think Elminster is starting to realise my resolve. “She doesn’t need to talk to them, but they will be with me.”

“Well, ahem…. I cannot promise that she’ll agree to your terms, but she pressed upon me the importance of this meeting.” He starts to make his way up the steps, indicating I should follow. We do, passing glances at each other.

So far, so good.

The steps up to Mystra’s temple are wide and imposing. The city is quiet, with few people out and about in the gloom of a winter’s morning. The three of us dutifully follow Elminster until we are confronted by imposing wood doors inlaid with silver runes.

“Enter in good faith.” Elminster intones, almost as if the words themselves will allow us to do so. “Mystra means you no ill will.” The doors swing open. The air inside sparkles and twists, the scent of rosewater in the air. In the centre of the atrium a huge statue of Mystra stands, towering above us.

“Back here again it seems.” Astarion sighs. We can all feel the summoning channel that she’s produced for us, this time, a shimmering doorway by the feet of her statue. That shiver in the air as the undiluted weave hovers before us, just waiting for me.

“Are you sure about this?” I can feel Shadowheart’s nervousness. I don’t blame her. After everything she’s been through, an audience with a deity must be terrifying.

“Well we’re doing no good out here.” Astarion takes my left hand, Shadowheart grasps my right and together we walk into the twinkling portal that dances tantalisingly In front of us.

For a second I am swirling in pure weave. The only anchoring thing being Shadowheart and Astarion’s hands in mine, the air is a vortex of light and sound, roaring in my ears, threatening to overwhelm me until suddenly… it ends.

I’ve been in the astral plain before, but for my comrades, this is a new experience. The space we’re in has no walls or surfaces, but is just a coruscating blend of colours and lights, purples, blues and pinks all swirl in a chaotic tapestry of magic. Occasionally lights bloom on one area, spreading like oil in water, altering all the colours before blending seamlessly back into the patterns. I watch their surprised expressions as they take in the surroundings.

Mystra appears, a bright white shape in an explosion of sparkling lights before she coalesces into the figure of a woman.

It is the first time I’ve seen the real face of my husband’s Ex-lover. I try to tell myself that I am not being unkind, but I expected more. The face is pretty, but it is just that, a pleasant human face, with violet eyes and silvery hair.

I am somewhat underwhelmed and that very thought – being underwhelmed by a goddess – makes me smile.

“My invitation was for you only” She looks annoyed.

“I felt safer with my friends. “I shrug, deliberately nonplussed.

“This conversation is between the two of us, they may stay, but they cannot interfere.” I look around at Astarion and Shadowheart. Both are shaking their heads slightly as though something is wrong. I realise that they can’t hear us and squeeze their hands, smiling reassuringly before letting go and stepping forward.

I note that Astarion immediately puts his hands on the hilts of his knives, and Shadowheart has a small spark of white light between her fingers. Both are ready to fight a goddess for me. My chest swells with pride and that edge of confidence I needed.

“As you wish. Why did you summon me? Why am I here?”

“Elminster has told you that the weave is under threat.” I nod. “I need your help before the rot that has taken hold here spreads across all of Faerun, before the fabric of all magic and wonder is put at risk.”

I stare at her, just waiting. She looks confused.

“Do you not understand? You have a duty to help.”

“I have absolutely no duty to help you at all, why would I?” I cross my arms, and I can feel Shadowheart near to me, the tension rising.

“Why would you not wish to help? We are not enemies.”

I laugh out loud. “Please tell me you’re not serious.” She looks confused. “After everything you put Gale and I through, it would not be an understatement to say that I despise you.”

“What I put Gale through? I did nothing less than give him everything he ever desired. I fulfilled all the dreams of his heart, as he wanted.”

My laughter continues, bitter, mocking. I cannot help it, but then I see the look on her face. She is genuinely baffled. She honestly believes what she’s saying. My laughter dies and I just stare at her. “You mean that, don’t you. You really think that everything you did, you did for him.”

“Gale was my chosen, my lover. When he absorbed the Karsite weave I had no choice but to cast him out. He needed to learn.”

“You don’t teach people by abandoning and tormenting them. You didn’t even explain what he’d done, you just sent him away. There’s no lesson there, it’s just punishment with no reason.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“You may be right.” She bows her head graciously, “but I tried to help him redeem himself.”

“You told him to kill himself!” I throw my hands in the air exasperated. I wonder what Shadowheart and Astarion must be making of the conversation. “And we still found a better way of dealing with the elder brain, without Gale’s death.”

She looks thoughtful. “Your success was….. unexpected. It made me realise that Gale had grown enormously, in his magic, in his strength. In everything. He deserved his reward.”

“You can’t honestly be this stupid.” I forget for a moment that I am talking to a goddess. “It wasn’t a reward.”

“Nonsense!” her words are confident, but I can see that something I’ve said has rattled her. “Gale was distraught when he ceased to be my chosen, he wanted nothing more than to return to me. He always wanted to be allowed access to the deepest magical mysteries of the universe and to ascend. All I did was gift him these things.” For a second, the lights around her glow brighter.

“And you didn’t think it odd that he said no.”

The lights around Mystra dim slightly, they swirls round her in fractal patterns, broken, chaotic.

“That was also unexpected. I did not think I would have to coerce him.” Her face softens. “I was angry, yes, I will admit that. But he saw the light and now we are reunited.”

“But you’re not, are you.” I sigh, exasperated. “he’s not your lover, he’s barely your chosen.” I shake my head, horrified at the turn of events. She genuinely thought it was a gift, a reward. “Does time really pass so differently here that you didn’t realise that Gale changed. He’s not a child anymore, not even a young man. He’s older, he’s wiser. He wants different things.”

“What else could he want!” I can see she is getting angry

“A normal life. A warm tower, good wine and books. And me. He wanted me.” I think back to the fragments of happiness we found in that tower and smile.

“Such a mundane existence over the wonders I offer?” she scoffs. “I don’t believe it.”

“You know I’m right though. It’s not how you expected it to be, is it.” Her face falls – just for a second - and I know she’s finally seeing the truth. I do feel sorry for her. There was no maliciousness here, just misunderstanding. “He’s not the man you knew. What you did to him was nothing less than cruel. You took him away from everything he wanted, imprisoned him, locked him away for eternity. No wonder he’s so miserable.”

“If what you say is true, and I believe you may be right. It explains much of what has occurred. You and your companions must follow me.” She walks away briskly and beckons me to follow. I do so, Astarion and Shadowheart rushing behind me.
A path opens up in the weave, an oscillating thread of weave strung over an abyss of nothingness. We walk behind her, traversing the astral plane as few mortals have done.

“Where are we?” Shadowheart – voice and hearing restored - is almost breathless, the deep ravine either side of the path seems bottomless and she eyes it nervously.

“Somewhere in the outer planes, the astral planes.”

“You’ve been here before?” Shadowheart whispers, she clearly doesn’t want Mystra to hear her.

I think of Gale and I, some of the things we’ve gotten up to and smile. “Once or two.”

“I’m getting even more admiration for our little wizard if that smiles means what I think it means.” Astarion doesn’t look phased at all, as we walk the rippling path. “Are we walking to our deaths then?”

“No, I think we’ve reached a sort of understanding, but I have no idea where she’s taking us.”

The path opens up and I find myself on a hill, standing among lilac swaying grass and impossibly vibrant flowers of purple white and silver. The whole world is washed in shades of blue and purple, the weave permeating every aspect of the land. The air smells like roses and a breeze touches my skin gently.

“This is my realm.” She says, surveying the land, and I can hear the pride in her voice. “Everything here is of my making.” She turns around and looks behind us. “Apart from this.”

We all turn and there, in the valley below us lies Waterdeep. Not Built of stone, but an almighty construction made of the weave itself. It stretches ahead of me, almost exactly as I know the city, but a shimmering purple hued copy.

“Gale built this. I wondered at the time, but it seemed to make him happier, so I let him. I have never seen someone work with the weave as he does, it’s remarkable. He produced this entire city and I thought it was an act of worship, a way of showing me his devotion. I was incorrect.”

In the midst of the city I can see his tower, but it’s wrong, the dimensions incorrect, three, four times as high as it should be, reaching above the surrounding buildings. It also glows with a fierce gold light, white at the top and fading into burnished gold as the light encompasses the tower and several streets around it. The more I look, the more I can see gold tendrils, like roots, or vines, creeping out from the tower and penetrating through the streets into the city.

In a realm of violet hues, it is jarring gold scar among the blues and purples.

“What is it?.” Shadowheart stares at the glow. It’s both jarring and beautiful.

“It’s the Dekarios Weave.” Mystra stands motionless, staring out at the city she did not build. “He made it, I have no idea how. It shouldn’t even be possible in my realm. Maybe I showed him too much….” Her voice trails off. “The Karsite weave – the source of the fragment that attached itself to Gale - was made of hunger and ambition. This is different.”

“He made his own weave?” Astarion muses. “Clever boy.”

“Clever yes, but wise. No. This weave is built on something different, sorrow, loss, loneliness. It twists everything it touches. This version of the city is analogous with its name sake back home. It’s twisting all magic back in your parallel Waterdeep, absorbing it, changing it. It’s all I can do to stop it encroaching beyond the city and into the rest of my realm.”

“He’s winning?” I’m amazed, and a little bit proud.

“In a way, although winning isn’t a term I’d use. I’m not sure he’s even aware of what is happening.” She looks at me, and she is genuinely sad. I suddenly realise that despite what she did, she genuinely loves him and is scared for him.

“Why can’t you stop it? He is just human after all, you’re the goddess of magic.”

“It repels me. I can’t even approach.” She hangs her head. “By the time I realised what was happening, it was too late. His weave is spreading fast and where it meets mine, everything twists and warps as it fights for dominance. If it gets outside the city, magic everywhere will start to fail, just as it is in Waterdeep. I’ll have no option but to destroy this entire realm just to purge his weave.”

The three of us stand overlooking the city. The more I look, the more I can see golden figures patrolling the streets and there, at the top of the tower a dark shape hanging in a white gold bubble above the tower.

“He’s up there isn’t he.”

“Yes, and unless you can stop this, everything in this realm must die – including him.”

Chapter Text

I stand there on the hillside staring at that blurred shape encased within a glowing sphere of energy. To be so close to him after all this time is strange. My dream last night returns to me. It had been a fragment of Gale, reaching out. When he said he was in Waterdeep, he had been, a Waterdeep of his own making

“So we waltz into the city, snatch him up and run?” Astarion’s voice brings me back to the moment. “Sounds too simple for us.”

“There are….. defenses.” Mystra admits.

“Of COURSE there are.” Astarion pulls out one of his knives and twirls it in one hand casually. “Why make it easy when we can almost die horribly at every turn.”

“What sort of defenses?” Shadowheart moves to be near me. Peering at the shapes walking the streets. “What is it we’re seeing.”

“Simulacra. Created from the weave. He’s created a small army to protect himself.” Mystra looks directly at me. “I don’t believe they’ll attack you.”

“But you’re not confident.” I watch as she shakes her head. “So we could be facing a small army, as well as whatever is going on in the tower.”

“But we are going in though, aren’t we.” Shadowheart looks surprised. “It’s Gale.”

“Of course I’m going in.” I smile. “But you don’t need to.”

“I didn’t come this far just to leave him here now.” Astarion smiles, almost gently.

“I’m in.” Shadowheart pulls out her morningstar, the light it emits is the same colour as Gale’s Weave. “Anything we should know?” she turns to Mystra, the gold glow burnishing the goddesses face.

“I cannot penetrate the outskirts of the city. Elminster couldn’t either. Whatever is in there is a mystery to me. Once you enter, I will not be able to see nor hear you. You will be alone.”

“Not quite alone.” Astarion grabs my hand and kisses it. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” I hold up my hand and turn to Mystra. She suddenly seems more ‘normal’, less godlike. Is this what I’m actually seeing? Or just my perception of her. “Do you swear that if we do this, and if Gale so wishes, he can return home with me and you will not prevent that in any way?”

We stand silently on that hillside staring at each other until she slowly nods. “If Gale Dekarios so wishes, he can return to the mortal planes with you and I will do nothing to prevent that.”

Heartened, we make our way down a sloped gravel path. The grass either side waves in a gentle breeze. The city gates loom ahead of us, the weave looking like grey stones with a mottling like lilac marble. The cobbles on the floor feel slick, grey purple in the dim light. It looks like night here, but there are no stars.

We walk, the streets empty. Occasionally, the Dekarios Weave runs between the cobbles like liquid gold. Where it flows, the edge of the stones almost seem to twitch and shudder. Sometimes there is an entire stone that has turned a shining gold, startling among the rest of the cobbles.

As we get closer to the tower there are more signs of the Dekarios weave taking over. A few bricks in a wall, a street lamp, a door, a paving slab. The city gradually changing from purple to gold.

Our first brush with Gale’s magical creations comes as we turn a corner. Three shimmering figures walk towards us, and we stop in our tracks. They are over 8 foot tall, looking as though they are make of pure gold, sparkling with energy. They are identical, a tall elven woman, hair braided, two scimitars on her back.

“By the gods…” Shadowheart mutters. “Jaheira?”

“She looks good in gold.” Astarion comments. “interesting choice.”

The more I think about it, the more it make sense. Who else would Gale trust to protect himself.

“Does that mean there will be versions of those things that that look like us?” I wonder out load.

“Only if he has VERY good taste.” Astarion comments, starting to sidle past the guards. They watch us go, turning their heads silently. So far it seems as though Mystra was right. We are being allowed to pass.

The streets become more gold, less violet. We see troops of Wyll and Karlach patrolling together. Lae’zel is even more intimidating at eight foot tall, as is Halsim, who truly is a giant. Shadowheart shudders when she sees herself replicated, four of her walking down the street and stopping to let us pass. Astarion almost purrs when he sees himself finally, charmed by the image of himself immortalised in gold.

There are no Simulacra of me yet.

By now, the streets are completely golden. The effect is shocking, the night seems driven away but there is no sun in the sky, it’s a blank white sheet swirling with twinkling bronze eddies. The tower is ahead, it’s impossibly tall, and flocks of Tressym are soaring around the dizzying heights. For the first time, a replica of me, either side of the doorway, holding a vast staff in one hand. The figures seem to be clothed in not much more than several strips of cloth in strategic places.

‘You may not pass’ the statues intone, in exactly my voice

“Well that’s not at all disturbing...” Astarion’s skin is glowing in the bright light.

“We need to come in.” I inch towards the door, the statues move quickly, crossing the staves over the door. Blocking it.

“You may not pass.”

I step back. “problematic.”

“Would our weapons even dent them?” Shadowheart muses.

“And how DO you feel about killing two eight foot effigies of yourself.” Astarion is looking at the figures. “At least you’re not heavily armoured…”

“We could try just opening the doors around them.” I look up at the tower, the ball of white light perched at the top.

“In the absence of any other idea, I vote for that one.” Astarion draw his knives. “although I’m not hopeful.”

Shadowheart draws her Morningstar. I hear her reciting a prayer to Selune under her breath. She seems to shine in the bright light. I reach the door and push.

The response is immediate, the two statues swirl the staves around and slam them down towards us. Astarion easily dodges, sliding through the door as I push it open. Shadowheart takes a glancing blow, but manages to roll with the impact, and I grab her arm, pulling her inside. The two statues start forcing their way through the doorway, the stones cracking as they push.

“I suggest running.” Astarion is already part way up the first flight of stairs. “Now!”

I reach for Shadowheart and we stumble up the stairs. As we race, golden tressym fly at us through open windows. I try not to think of Tara as we fight our way upwards. We dare not to stop as we can hear the door guardians forcing their way through the small archway at the bottom. The tressym fall beneath our weapons, thankfully their skin is not the hardness of solid gold, but dissipates in clouds of golden energy as we carve through them. Soon, our skin glitters with the remnants of our kills, shining gold as we dart from step to step.

The climb seems unending, the flocks of small winged cats fly at us with exaggerated claws extended, shredding our arms and faces. It’s only when I hear Astarian yell that I realise we’ve reached the top, there is an open door, Astarion’s figure silhouetted against the bright light, and we dive indoors as he slams it closed behind us.

Inside the world is quiet, but so bright. Astarion leans on the wall whilst Shadowheart and I are knelt on the floor panting. I look over at her, she is covered in cuts and scratches, her face a mask of blood. Astarion is equally as splattered. Not since the Baldur’s gate days have is seen them this way. I know I must look the same.

Shadowheart whispers words under her breath and a blue silver burst of light encompasses us. Our scratches knit shut, but the blood remains, a reminder of past hurts. I wipe as much as I can from my face, staining my sleeve.

Looking around, the room is a facsimile of our tower, the desk, books, chairs are all there, but it’s as if a slow explosion is in the process of blowing the tower apart. The room has blossomed outwards as though caught in the midst of a detonation, the ceiling gone, the walls peeling backwards like a flower, bricks and blocks suspended in mid air as they are thrown outwards.

The tower is open to the sky and outside, I can see flocks of tressym, watching us, but seemingly unable to reach us. And there, suspended high above us is the ball of golden light that we saw from the hillside, a mini sun hanging in the sky just out of reach. It hurts to look at it for too long, but there, in the centre, a figure suspended.

Gale.

His naked body is rigid and tense, his arms are outstretched, palms up, fingers splayed out as though reaching for something. His head is down, his chin resting on his chest, so I cannot see if he is awake, asleep or even alive. My chest feels tight and for a moment dizziness threatens to overwhelm me. My breath sticks in my throat and the flood of emotions are too much.

Shadowheart lays a hand on my arm. “Breathe.” Her voice is loud in the silence. “There is work yet to be done.”

“I know it’s been a time since I saw our lovely Gale, but I do not recall him looking like that.” Astarion is shielding his eyes, peering at the light.

He’s right. They never saw his final form, but even for me, the last time I saw Gale, he was a living embodiment of the weave, made of purple light and incandescent energy. Now, that same lilac perfection is shot through with golden cracks, as though his body is being torn apart by the same force that shredded the tower. The golden light coruscates under his skin, shining out through the fissures, looking as though he might crumble into pieces at any moment.

“And how do we get to him?” Shadowheart walks around the tower looking up at the figure encased in the bubble of white light.

“Gale.” I call his name. for a moment there is no movement, the I see one of the outstretched fingers twitch. I repeat his name, louder this time.

After a moment his head lifts slowly. His eyes open and glow gold, blazing fire as they stare right at me.

“I know you.” The voice is his, but strange, echoing around what’s left of the room. “I dreamed of you.”

“You did, last night.” I step closer, looking up at him.

“Days ago, it was days ago, maybe weeks.” He closes his eyes. “You should not be here.”

“I came to take you home.” I’m trying to hold it together but even saying those words is pulling me to the edge of tears.

“This is my home. My Tower. Waterdeep.”

“This isn’t real.” My voice is pleading, I want to reach up and touch him, but he’s hanging in the void above me, too far away.

“Not real.” He repeats, looking confused. “You should not be here. Mystra will be angry.” As I watch, tears form in his eyes and run down his cheeks, like molten gold.

“Mystra understands now. She’s letting you go.” My voice cracks.

“Letting me go?” the voice is almost a whisper.

“Yes. You can come home.” I can’t hide the yearning in my voice. “You just need to stop what you’re doing, this weave you’ve somehow made, it’s clashing with hers. You need to stop.”

Gale stares at me. He shudders, the flaws in his skin glow brighter until it looks like golden fire is erupting from within him and for a second I fear he’s going to be torn apart in front of me. Shadowheart tries to pull me away, but I shrug her off. I am not leaving him. For a moment, the light around him glows brighter and brighter, we shield our eyes. I hear myself, shouting at the others to run, but the air is whipped into a frenzy of noise and light.

I realise that we are going to die here and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Suddenly everything stops. The light dims, the noise abates in such a rush that my ears pop and with a thud, Gale’s body collapses onto the floor next to me.

It is silent. Just the sound of our ragged breathing.

“Well that was exciting.” Astarion is leaning on the door frame, breathing heavily

I rush to Gale’s crumpled body. His skin is a mosaic of lilac weave and golden filaments. For a second I think he’s not breathing, until I see his chest rising in tiny fragile breaths. For the briefest second I am almost afraid to touch him. The thought of this being real is too much for me to bear, too much for my heart to take. It’s too huge for my mind to comprehend and the rush of emotion threatens to overwhelm me.

Then I see him struggling to lift himself up on weak arms and I am there, on the floor, pulling him to me, feeling his breath on my neck as he hangs onto me like a lifeline.

The sound I make is barely human. A breaking tide of grief, joy and shock, it is a ragged half cry, half wail that erupts from me in a torrent.

It’s really him, My Gale.

“It was too much.” Gale looks up at me, the words spilling from his mouth in a rush. “so much sadness and loss, I couldn’t cope. I took everything; my love, my loneliness, my misery, my hope, even all my memories and I pulled it all out of myself until I was empty, but it came back over and over again. Every day, I tore away parts of myself just so I could feel nothing, but those parts were too strong, they started to exist outside my body as well as inside, started to become alive.”

I look around, the gold from around the tower is starting to roll backwards into the centre of the room, like water down a drain, the weave pours towards us in torrents of light and a flood of liquid gold, it pours into Gale as I hold him, and he glows like a celestial being.

Shadowheart looks out over the city. “Gods.” She whispers. “He’s calling it all back into him.”

Around us, the flocks of tressym dissipate into gold clouds and funnel back into the room, where they pour into Gale’s body. I have to close my eyes against the light, golden fire and burnished embers. It takes only a moment and then the tower is turned from gold to violet, and the Dekarios Weave is drawn back into his body.

He stands, shakily, the gold fading into his skin until only the orb scar glows gold, a startling mark on his perfect body, still made of the iridescent lilac of the weave and containing an eternity of stars and wonder.

He pulls me to him and into the warmth of his arms and we stand there, in exactly the same way as we did on the night he left me.

Chapter Text

I might have stood there forever, if Astarion hadn’t cleared his throat loudly

“This is genuinely adorable, but I for one would rather be back in the real Waterdeep, if that’s ok with you both.”

Gale lets go of me, holding me at arm’s length to look at me, smiling broadly. “I can’t believe you did it. Can’t believe you got Mystra to agree. You are too much. A miracle, a wonder, everything. Words fail me – and they rarely do that.” He whispers a word under his breath and he is suddenly clothed in loose trousers and a flowing open robe. He glances at the orb scar on his chest, still glowing a faint golden glow, and plants a kiss on my lips. It is still a strange sensation being kissed by lips made entirely of the weave, but any touch from him makes my heart sing.

And I thank you two as well.” Gale turns to Shadowheart and Astarion, walking to them, taking their hands in his. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

“I can think of a few ways.” Astarion pulls Gale towards him and kisses him on the lips, hard, almost angrily. Gale’s body tenses for a moment and then relaxes. The Pale elf steps back, touching his own lips for a moment. “Well that’s… different.” He muses.

“You owe us nothing.” Shadowheart says. “You would have done the same for us.”

“Still, I’m not sure I can ever repay the favour.”

“Just don’t ever do anything like that again.” Astarion muses. “Can we go now?”

“Of course, I am more eager to get out of here than you’ll ever know.”

We make our way back down the tower, taking out time. Gale is still shaky and although he insists he is fine, we walk slowly. He grasps my hand in his as though he’s afraid that this is all a dream and that I am his only anchor to reality.

Shadowheart and Astarion walk a distance ahead of us, giving us time to talk.

“How long has it been for you.” Gale glances over at me.

“Four months and 22 days.” I smile ruefully. “You?”

Gale swallows nervously “I lost count. Decades, maybe more. It was harder than I ever imagined. I thought I could cope, but I wasn’t as strong as I thought.” He squeezes my hand. “How did you get Mystra to release me?”

As we walk I tell him the story, The weave malfunction, Elminster’s visit, The portal to Mystra and our conversation. Gale listens eagerly, his face showing the complex emotions my tale engenders.

“Well, not bad for a simple boy from Waterdeep” Gale muses. “Ruined all of Waterdeep’s magic did I?” best not to confess that one to the universities, they’ll have my hide.”

“Of all the things you’ve ever been, a simple boy from Waterdeep is not one of them.” I squeeze his hand.

“Well I suppose that is true.” Gale is smiling to himself. “Mystra’s chosen, one of the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate, and I managed to captivate and marry one of the most remarkable women in all the realms.” He swings me round and kisses me. “I will be in your debt until the end of time.”

“And the only man to create his own weave since Karsus.” I sink into his arms. “How on earth did you do that?”

“I’d love to claim it was some devious plan to free myself from Mystra’s clutches, but I rather fear I did it subconsciously.” He holds me close, I feel the weave tingling my skin. “Elysium is a realm of emotion, and I was overflowing with more feelings than I could contain. As I sought to feel nothing, to purge those emotions, they had to go somewhere and my innate magical ability and habitual use of the weave – as well as Mystra’s tampering to increase my gifts and making me like this” he indicates his glowing lilac form. “created something that was second nature to me.”

“It’s an impressive feat nonetheless.”

“And one that needs studying.” Gale releases me, and we carry on walking, making our way through the town, back to the purple twilight of it's original form, no longer being overtaken by Gale’s magic.

“Is that wise?” I look up at him. I know that he is fascinated by magic, always has been, but this fascination has led to poor choices in the past. “Your weave disrupted magic for an entire city. It could be dangerous.”

“I will be careful my love. I promise you that I have learned my lesson. Caution will be my watchword, but you will never cure me of my curiosity.”

I know this to be true, and hope that he will stick to his promise. We continue through the city. “I can’t believe you built this entire place.”

“It helped me feel close to you. I could walk the streets and imagine you were with me.” He sighs. “They were lonely days.”

“For me too, although I believe it was worse for you. My friends were with me and I had Tara and your mother.” I look up at him, his face is drawn and pinched. He looks happy, but there’s a weariness to him. “You must have felt so alone.”

He nods. “Mystra was with me in the early days, but when I made it clear that I would not rekindle our relationship, she mostly left me by myself. I was alone for so many years.” He squeezes my hand. “I never thought to see you again. Part of me doesn’t believe this is real. That you will vanish and it will be a dream.”

“I promise I’m here, and we will soon be home.” We leave the city and start up the gravel track to the hillside. There, bathed in light, Mystra stands alone on the hillside, watching us approach. Gale’s hand tightens on mine almost desperately.

“Gale Dekarios” she says simply as we approach. Astarion and Shadowheart step aside, allowing us to stand in front of her. I can’t read her emotions.

“Mystra.” Gale does not let go of my hand and I see her gaze lower to where his fingers entwine through mine, before she looks away. “I understand I owe you an apology. It was not my intention to cause damage to your realm.” He bows his head slightly, a sign of deference

For a moment there is silence. She stares at him as though seeing him for the first time. “And I understand now that I, too, owe you an apology.” She also inclines her head and I realise that I’d been holding my breath.

We may yet get out of this whole situation intact.

“I have not been human for a very long time.” She admits. “Sometimes the human heart is a mystery to me. Your companion tells me that you wish to return to the material plane. Is this so?”

“It is.” Gale squeezes my hand again. “You will always be my goddess, I will always be a devotee of yours, but my heart lies elsewhere, as do my desires.”

“I understand. You will always be a regret of mine I believe.” She folds her arms, scrutinising him. “You are one of the most exceptional wizards I have ever met Gale, in time, maybe you would consider being my chosen again. On your terms, of course.”

I can’t believe it, this is the best possible outcome and far outside what I’d hoped for. The very thought that we might actually get everything we desire, makes my heart feel light in my chest.

“In time.” Gale smiles. “It would be my honour.”

“I will give you the time you need, it would be for the best i believe. However, there is some unfinished business before you can leave.” She closes her eyes and I watch as the weave leaves Gales body in a shimmering cloud of purple dust. It swirls away from him, leaching from his body, which gradually solidifies into flesh. I turn to look at him and as his physical body is restored, I can see the fine lines of trauma on him.

Up his arms and across his face I see the scratched claw marks of his own finger nails. On his chest they radiate outwards from the orb scar, as though he clawed at his own heart.

When he said he tore away parts of himself, it looks as if he genuinely tried to do so.

“Oh Gale.” I cannot hide the horror in my face. Even Mystra looks disturbed.

“It’s fine. It’s done.” He says quietly. Looking at his physical body and the damage he’s done to it. He pulls me into his arms and it is truly him again, the strength of his arms, the softness of his skin and the smell of him – oh the scent of his body – rosewater and warm dry grass.

“There is one last thing.” Mystra’s voice draws me back to the moment. “What happened here must never happen again. Irrespective of why, you almost destroyed the weave and the risk of that happening again is too great. I must take your memories of what you did, so that no one can ever know how to replicate it.”

Gale lets go of me and takes a step back. “No, I can’t allow that.”

“It’s not a choice. It must happen.” Her face grows hard.

“No, I did this. Me. It was a miracle of sorts, you can’t take it from me.” I can feel his anger rising, and the golden glow across his chest increases

“I can, and I must.” She points at him. “Even now, that weave is still present. Still a danger. It must be removed, together with the knowledge of how it was done.”

Gale places his hands over his chest protectively. “You once told me that I could no more control the Karsite weave than a weathervane could control a storm. And you may have been right, but this is mine. I will not let you strip this achievement from me.”

“Do you seek to usurp me?” the air is starting to feel charged with energy. Both of them are angry, the gold flush from Gale is growing brighter. Astarion and Shadowheart back away slightly.

“No, never. But you cannot have this. It is mine.”

“Gale.” I put my hand on his arm. “Let it go. We can go home, be together.”

“No.” he looks at me almost desperately. “This might actually make me the greatest wizard in all of Faerun. No one since Karsus himself has done this. Not even him, he FAILED, I succeeded! You can’t ask me to give this up. To forget!”

And there it is, Gale’s ambition. Tempered yes, but never gone.

“I am asking your permission.” Mystra says gently. “If you give up the memories to me it will be easier, if you force me to take them then I cannot guarantee all will be well.”

“You’ll have to pull them from my body by force then.” He walks towards her, pulling his robe apart, taunting her, the scratches on his chest a brutal reminder of what she inflicted on him, even if she did not mean to

“As you wish.” She says, almost sadly, and holds up one hand. The gold erupts from his body. He screams, as do I. I try to get to him, but I’m held back somehow. I scrabble to get through whatever force Mystra has interjected between the two of us, as a torrent of gold pours from him. Gale clasps his hand over the orb scar, as though he can stop the flow of energy from his body. It continues to pour, around his fingers. Coalescing into a gold sphere in front of Mystra, spinning like a ball of yarn growing bigger and bigger as each filament of gold pours out of him.

Gradually the torrent slows and he falls to his knees gasping. She steps forward and lays her hand on the top of his head, almost like a blessing, but I know it’s the total opposite. They stand there like that stationary for a moment and I can see her face contort, whatever she is trying to do, Gale is not making it easy.

She lifts her hand - silver blue vapour trailing from it as she does so - and he collapses on the floor. The invisible force holding me back vanishes and I rush to him. He is unconscious, but alive.

“How COULD you.” I scream.

“I had no choice.” She holds her hands around the ball of glowing energy and it changes shape, becoming a perfect golden rose, glittering with lilac sparkles. She leaves the flower hanging there in the air, where it spins slightly, seeming to absorb the light. “He will understand one day.” She stands over him. “Still so much ambition and pride.” She muses. “Maybe he’s not so different after all.”

“There had to be another way.” I sink down, holding him on my lap, his hair across his face and the scratch marks on his body a harsh reminder of his pain.

“There was not.” She stands over us. “I will send him home. You must tell Elminster of what happened.”

A swirling purple portal appears and as it does, Gales body fades out of existence.

“He is safe.” She holds up her hand before I can comment “I swear on the weave he is back in his tower asleep. Go to Elminster. Tell him the weave is saved and then go home. You have your wizard back.”

She vanishes in a cloud of silver motes and we’re left standing alone in her realm.

The journey back is just as disorienting, we reappear in the temple only a few minutes after we left. I am exhausted, physically and mentally. I just want to get home, but I am first forced to recount our tale to Elminster who listens enthusiastically and asks far too many questions for my liking.

Shadowheart and Astarion look equally as exhausted. They say their goodbyes and we step out into the early morning light – barely any time has passed, but we have fought and gained and Gale has lost – yet again.

I’m still angry at Mystra, not as much, but there is still bitterness there. All Gale’s experiences with her have been touched with pain and sadness and yet he still follows her – although how could he not, she IS the weave and magic is his life.

I also find myself a little angry at Gale – which surprises me – I thought we’d seen an end to all that pride and ambition, but there it was, still affecting his decisions, still putting himself in danger.  I trudge through the streets. The city is starting to wake up. He could have let go of the weave and the memories, but he’d fought to keep it, maybe in that moment wanting it more than me….

At least it’s done now, I think. In some ways I feel better that she removed the Dekarios weave and all memories of it – I don’t think he would ever have been able to let it go.

I immediately feel bad about those thoughts – selfish - especially as I’d seen how hard he had tried to hold onto it. I must remember that from Gale’s perspective, he’d been trapped in her reality for decades, the trauma would be lasting, but I would be here to help him.

I push open the tower doors, trudging my way up the stairs, remembering our fight that happened only a short time ago. As I open the door to the room at the top Tara runs towards me.

“He’s back!” she yells. “Hurt and sleeping, but back. And you’re hurt too!”

I look down, forgetting that the remnants of our battle must still show. “I’m fine.” I reassure her as I head into the bedroom, eager to see him.

He is there, thank the gods, he is there. Sleeping in our bed as though the last few months were a bad dream.

Tara hovers round me and I repeat the entire tale for the second time in an hour as I strip off my kit and wash in the water that is amazingly – still warm from this morning.

“He’ll be fine?” she asks eagerly.

“I believe so, in time yes.” I sit on the edge of the bed, watching him breathing.

My Gale is back. I breath out slowly, allowing my mind to dwell on that statement. He is back. I sag slightly, feeling the truth in those words, so unexpected, but true, and tears bubble out of nowhere, four months of feelings breaking like the tide on the shore.

Tara jumps onto the bed concerned, but I smile through my tears. “They’re good Tears Tara, he’s back, I just can’t believe it.”

I’m spent, and the sleeping form of my husband in our bed is too tempting. I remove the last of my clothes, crawling under the bedclothes and curling naked around him. I breath in the warm scent of him, and revel in the softness of his skin. I look at the slight creases around his eyes. They look pained, but I know we can make that go. I know that the scratches and the pain will fade and all will be well.

He is back.

Tara makes a subtle exit, allowing the door to close behind her, and I drift into the best sleep I’ve had in months.

I wake to Gale’s swift exit from the bed. I shake away the last remnants of sleep. I can tell from the light in our room that it’s around midday. I sleepily open my eyes and he is staring down at me, his face a mask of shock. He looks between the bed and the door a few times before looking down and realising he is naked. He rushes to the door, pulling his robe off the hook and wrapping it round himself. I sit up, allowing the bedclothes to fall from me.

His face reddens and he turns his back to me.

“Gale.” Ah, just saying his name sounds good. “It’s ok, you’re home. You’re safe.”

“Young lady.” His voice sounds odd, prim almost. “I know this is my home. I just don’t know what sort of joke this is. Breaking into a wizards tower is no laughing matter!” he grabs a robe from the back of a chair and throws if behind him, where it lands on the bed next to me. “Might I suggest you cover up!”

He pulls the door open, making sure to keep his back to me and yells into the main room. “Tara! Tara! Why is the tower open and who the hell is this woman!”

Chapter Text

Gale dashes from the room. I clutch the robe to me for a second before jumping out of bed, pulling it around myself and tying it tightly. I follow him.

He is standing in the centre of the tower, frantically looking around at the room. He rushes over to the desk and rifles through the paperwork there. Tara enters, looking confused at the commotion.

“Tara, why have you unlocked the tower, and where is that book I was reading last night? Why has everything moved?” He turns to look at me. “And who is SHE?”

Tara looks at me and I look at her. Both of us confused.

“Master Dekarios… that’s your wife.” She stares at him, baffled.

“My…. wife?” Gale glances between the two of us. “That’s insanity. I am not, nor have I ever been, married. You of all people know that.”

“Something’s wrong.” I turn to Tara.

“I would have to agree.” Tara steps around him towards me.

“Will you two stop talking as thought you’re firm friends! Are you friends? Even if you are, I made it very clear that while my… condition persists, no one is to enter this tower, it’s too dangerous.”

For a moment, the three of us stand staring at each other, as realisation dawns.

“The orb is gone.” I say slowly, watching the emotions on his face as my statement filters through.

“How do you know about….” He puts a hand on his chest. “It’s not possible...” His face goes pale and he rushes into the bedroom slamming and locking the door behind him.

I collapse into one of the chairs. “He doesn’t know me.” I feel sick. “What sort of cruel joke is this…”

Tara paces. “It’s as though time has moved backwards, back to the dark days after the Netherese Orb got him.”

I remember Mystra’s words: ‘If you give up the memories to me it will be easier, if you force me to take them then I cannot guarantee all will be well.’

“Why couldn’t you just give it up.” I mutter under my breath. “Why did you have to hold on.”

Tara looks up at me quizzically and I explain. She stares at me horrified. “Gale, oh my foolish boy.” She crouches low on the floor, her tail whipping the air emphatically. “And his connection to Mystra – again – making trouble for him. It’s not fair.”

“it’s not fair.” I repeat.

The door to the bedroom unlocks and he emerges, fully dressed, confusion painted on his face. “I don’t know how this has happened - I have my suspicions - but I need to go out.” He turns to look at me. “I expect you to be gone by the time I return.” He strides out of the room without a pause and before I can even protest.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Tara jumps up onto the table next to me and prods my hand with a small paw.

“Well I imagine he thinks that Mystra has forgiven him and has removed the orb.” I put my head in my hands, “And since at this point he's still absolutely besotted with her, he’s probably going to beg to be her chosen again, which she will – given what she asked of him only a few months ago - accept.”

“He’s going back to her?”

“Probably as both her chosen and her lover.” The truth of the situation strikes me. "He'll probably even be quite content with the terms that she laid out originally...." I think back to what She had offered, how had Gale put it? 'I will reside with her in the astral plain and forgo my old life. She may even help me ascend, as she did her other chosen, and I will remain by her side. For eternity.'' This version of Gale would have leapt at the opportunity.

"After everything you've done." I know the look on Tara's face. if she could go pale, she would. "After you both fought so hard to get back to each other. Did she do this on purpose?"

I think hard, could Mystra be that calculating? Remembering what had happened just this morning, she had seemed genuine, she'd even warned Gale to let the memories go, pleaded with him almost. "No, i think this one's on him, he wouldn't surrender the memories, couldn't let go of the power... despite everything." The feeling of sickness returns and realisation dawns on me. “Gods Tara, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” she jumps onto my lap, staring up at me.

“I can’t go through any more. It’s too much. He doesn’t know me, doesn’t love me! He loves HER!”

“Well then make him remember, or make him love you again!” her tail is flicking backwards and forwards. She is agitated.

“What’s the point, whether accidentally or deliberately, she’s won. This Gale, the Gale that just ran out of here WANTS to be with her. He’s not mine. He’s hers.”

“He’s better with you.” She jumps down. “He’s happier with you than he ever was with her.”

“But he doesn’t know that.” I stand and move to our bedroom, where I throw clothing into a bag. “If he has her, he will never, ever look at me that way.”

“You’re not leaving!” Tara follows me, horrified.

“I can’t be here if he comes back and has reforged his relationship with her. I can’t see that.” I rotate the ring on my finger. I think about returning it, but I can’t bring myself to leave it here just yet. Seems that I’m not totally ready to let go.

“This is your home!” she tries to stand between me and the door but I step over her, rude but necessary.

“I’ll be at the Shipmaster’s Hall if you need me.” I ignore her protestations and leave, tears running down my face.

It is three days before Gale comes to me. By that time, the vague rumours have rapidly coalesced into a tangible and scandalous story. Gale Dekarios has returned after yet another long absence, but more fascinating is that his return has coincided with his wife removing herself from their marital home and taking up residence in a local inn.

I am – in the eyes of the city matrons – humiliated beyond any mending.

I don’t care, for the first time in this whole sorry situation, I have given up. I could fight anything other than Gale not loving me. The fact that it’s been three days before he comes to see me, tells me the truth.

He knocks on the door timidly. I open it thinking it’s one of the maids and I know for a second my face radiates absolute delight. I can’t hide that. He might not love me, but I do love him. He looks anxious, his face composed, almost embarrassed.

“Might I come in.” I step back, allowing him to enter the room. He does so cautiously, looking around as though he's afraid he might be attacked. “I believe I might owe you an apology.” He sits in the seat I indicate, hands in his lap, careful, controlled. I sit opposite him, silently. It hurts to look at him, a face I know so well, yet seeing it look back at me so coldly. "you did, as i understand, have every right to be in the tower that morning.

"Thank you for admitting that" I stare at him, trying to see in this prim, proper face any sign of the Gale I love.

“How you must hate me.” He says quietly

“Not at all, I understand that this isn’t something you’ve done to me, rather something that was done to you.”

“So I now realise.” He pauses. “it’s been a interesting few days. Despite the strangeness of the tale, it now appears that I have forgotten almost a full year of my life – and by the sounds of it, what a year it was.” he stands and paces, full of nervous energy. “infected by an illithid parasite, fighting dragons, elder brains? Rescuing an entire city!” he turns to look at me. “And in the midst of all this, it seems as though we managed to fall in love, even get married!”

“yes, we did.” He stares at me, and I know him well enough to know that he’s searching my face for something familiar.

“And I understand that I owe you a huge amount of thanks, to such a degree that I could never repay you, no matter how I try.”

“I don’t expect you to repay it.” I sigh, I should be upset, angry, something, but I just feel numb. This is the Gale I pulled from a portal so long ago, the composed, overly cheerful outside that I know is hiding tumult underneath.

“Tara has schooled me on the situation, in fact I’ve rarely seen her so vociferous.” He looks thoughtful. “My mother too. You must be a truly remarkable person to have won them over so completely.”

“We were happy, happier than two people probably have the right to. They liked that you were happy, content. They liked that you were away from Mystra.”

“I wish I could remember.” His voice is small. “But from my perspective, whilst you do seem like an attractive and apparently extraordinary person, you inspire absolutely no emotion or memories in me at all.”

“I understand.”

"And it is only fair to tell you that my heart belongs to another." It makes me feel sick as his eyes light up. "And I hope to be reunited with her soon."

"Mystra." her name is heavy on my tongue. I'm actually amazed she hasn't taken him back already

"Yes, she is my goddess, my muse and...." his voice trails off. “I expected you would be more….” He pauses. “Upset? Angry?”

“I’ve run out of emotions Gale.” I sigh. “it’s been too much, too much fighting, so much pain and suffering. I have nothing left to feel. We did everything we could and we still lost, by some fluke of magic.”

"A woman with white hair visited me. Shouted at me for a time. Shadowheart, interesting name.” he sits back down. “I seem to have become entangled with many people other than yourself.”

“Wait until you meet the vampire.” I muse. Gale looks shocked for a moment, before shaking his head as though he believes me to be joking. “So have you spoken to Mystra?”

“I did go to her temple. But she was silent. I thought initially that she’d forgiven me, removed the orb, but I know now that it was far more complicated than that.”

“We definitely did complicated, very well in fact.”

“I plan on returning to her as soon as I can.”

“I thought you might.”

“I’m sorry if this hurts you.”

“I’m sure you are.” I suddenly find entire conversation wearying. “I appreciate you coming, but I’m not sure there’s anything left to say.”

“No, maybe not.” He stands. “I am genuinely very sorry about all this.”

“So you said.” I turn my back and he leaves without another word.

Astarion comes to me that night. He knocks lightly on the door and sidles in when I open it.

“Hiding?” he asks, looking around the room. “That’s not like you.”

“just sick of this sorry existence.” I’m ready for bed, wrapped in a robe against the winter cold. The fire has long gone out and I can’t bring myself to rekindle it.

“You can be sick of it after 200 miserable years enslaved. Not before.”

“I can be as damned sick of it as I like.” I grimace at him, turning to pour myself wine from the nearly empty carafe.

“I could make you feel better.” He’s suddenly behind me, breathing on my neck. “Our little wizard is back to being boring old ‘Gale of Waterdeep’. I’m offended by the transformation.”

“You and me both.” The breath on my neck tingles. It’s been months since anyone touched me and as heart sick as I am, I can’t help but react.

“He doesn’t want you.” His mouth is next to the pulse in my neck.

“I know.” I shiver.

“I want you.” The voice is almost a whisper and I feel a slight moan escape my lips. Hands reach around and untie my robe, sliding it off my shoulders and onto the floor. My skin is cold, but I feel feverish. His hands run down my arms lightly and the gods help me it feels good to be touched after all this time. I rest my head back on his shoulder and I can hear him breathing harder.

His hands trace back up my arms and across my shoulders before running down the front of my nightgown, the lightest feather touch over my breasts. I moan. Too long since someone wanted me, made me feel this way. I close my eyes.

Astarion’s fingers make soft circles around the small nubbins of flesh, now standing proud and dimpled with arousal. I can feel him behind me, his own excitement growing.

I know the hands on me are pale, with long delicate fingers, but in my mind they’re Gale’s strong hands, surprisingly calloused for a man of magic. I want it to be Gale, breathing on my neck. I want it to be Gale, standing behind me, pressing that hardness into my back and breathing his lust into my hair. 

“Stop.” My voice is thick, choked with desire. “Please stop.” I grasp his wrists and move them away, feeling weak and vulnerable.

“But why?” Astarion’s voice still close to my ear. “Darling, this would be so good for both of us.”

“Because it’s not right.” I turn. His face is inches from mine. “When I close my eyes I see Gale, not you. It’s not fair on you.”

“I don’t care.” He looks confused.

“I do.” My voice sounds small, pathetic. “And you should. You deserve more than me using you to feel something.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” He’s pouting.

“I know, and that’s why I won’t do it.” I move away and sit on the edge of my bed in the darkness. “Please don’t get me wrong I’m….. painfully tempted.” He joins me and he’s smiling, he likes the fact I’m so aroused. “But I still love Gale and it’s not right to use you. You’re my friend.”

Astarion makes a disgusted sound. “It’s so disappointing when people are depressingly honourable.”

“Sorry.” I rest my head on his shoulder

“It would have been amazing.”

“I know.” I am still aroused, aware of every part of my body tingling, but now it’s tempered with sadness.

“Can I stay the night, just as a friend.” Astarion’s voice is now small, needy in the darkness

“Of course.” I pull the covers back and we crawl into the warm cocoon, holding each other.

“Gale’s an idiot.” He whispers in my ear and I nod.

Chapter Text

After two lonely tendays in my tavern room, I decide enough is enough. There is nothing left for me here in Waterdeep. I came here for Gale and even when he was in Mystra’s clutches I remained out of a sense of obligation. But now, the thought of staying in the city where he is, but being separated from him, makes me feel nauseous.

The gossip is still running it’s course, with increasingly fantastical reasons why Gale apparently threw me out of his tower. I decide to return to Baldur’s Gate. Start again in a city that loves me, rather than spreads vicious rumours about me. I ask Shadowheart to deliver a message to the tower asking for the remainder of my clothing and equipment to be packed up. I receive a polite note back from Gale, advising me that this will be done with all alacrity

Sounds like he’s eager for me to be gone.

Twice I’ve seen him on the streets of Waterdeep. The marks on his face and arms have gone, whether by normal healing or magic, i do not know. He looks well in himself, but both times he dropped his head and scurried away, almost embarrassed to be near me.

I book passage on a ship. It’s expensive, but it will take much less time than a journey by road, and given what happened last time, I can’t quite bring myself to make that same journey in the same way.

Tara complains, as does Morena, but I think they know. All connection between Gale and I is dissolved. We are not even friends, we are indifferent acquaintances, or at least that’s how he sees it. For me, Just thinking about him makes my stomach flip and remembering some of the things we got up to makes my skin tingle and warmth to spread throughout my body.

On the final day, I have arranged for my trunks and cases to be sent from the tower direct to the dock. Finally, with more than a little regret, I remove the ring that Gale gave me, wrap it in a piece of parchment and tie it with a gold ribbon. I think about delivering it myself, but eventually drop it into an envelope, write Gale’s name on it and seal it closed with a blob of wax.

Everything done. All loose ends tied up. The Lady Dekarios no longer.

Porters take my bags from the room and I return the key to the owner, asking him to deliver the letter to the Dekarios Tower when convenient. Shadowheart is waiting for me.

“You’re determined?” she asks.

I nod. “I think it’s for the best. There’s no use fighting for someone who doesn’t want to be fought for.”

“He fell in love with you once. Maybe he could again.” She links arms and we walk side my side down towards the docks

“They were different times, we were thrust together by necessity and found each other in hardship. He doesn’t even have a reason to seek me out.” The sun is shining on this chilly winter’s morning. Spring will be here soon and that’s a time for new beginnings. I will begin anew somewhere miles from here.

“Maybe if you spent time together?” Shadowheart’s optimism is endearing.

“He has spoken to me precisely one time since he forgot me. He has no interest in spending time with me. I am an anomaly, an embarrassment.”

“It pains me.” She sighs.

“Well, all things end and I will remember the time we were together fondly.”

“I will come and see you soon.” She kisses me on the cheek. “Astarion told me to tell you that you have two months and then he’s trying again. Do you know what that means?”

I laugh out loud and for the first time in a long time I feel free. I have hope. A new start, just what we all need, Gale included.

I board and watch as my items are stowed below. My cabin is surprisingly large and well equipped, with a bed, wash stand and cupboards efficiently crammed into every spare space. It will be my base for the next 7-10 days depending on the wind.

I head back up on board deck. The sun shines and I stare out over the city that has been my home for months now. The city I thought I would stay in forever. How things change so quickly I muse, silently bidding the city goodbye and turning away to instead look out to the open water, to the direction i am going towards, not everything i am leaving behind.

The crew is making haste to untie the mooring lines and take advantage of the tide. A breeze causes the sails to billow and crack, filling them as the ship tugs at its moorings. In moments we are away and I wave to Shadowheart as she stands on the dock, her white hair blowing in the fresh breeze.

She watches me and then I see her turn away towards the dock. Gale is running towards her. He stops at the end of the jetty. Shouts at me, but we are already too far out for me to hear. I can just about see a heated conversation between him and Shadowheart before there is a flare, a spark of the weave and he leaps into the air, flying low across the parting waters until he lands on the boat next to me.

The crew might know of wizards, but one landing on their deck is still unexpected.

“I have to talk to you.” his face is flushed.

“Gale, in case you hadn’t realised, this ship is leaving.”

He waves his hand as though the fact we are rapidly heading away from his city is of no consequence “I’ve been pacing in my tower for hours. I thought I’d missed you.

“You almost did.” I muse. Arms crossed defensively

“I found this when I was packing up your items.” He slowly holds out a scrap of paper, the folds in it deep creases from being opened and closed multiple times. His letter to me. With everything that happened I had forgotten it was tucked into my jewellery box. “I read it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I know I wrote it, but it feels as though it was a different person who penned this. I feel like it was an intrusion into your privacy, and his.”

“You came here to return it?” I gingerly take the letter. “Thank you, but you didn’t need to.”

“Yes, No" he looks flustered. "To return it yes, but also to understand it.” He looks down at the letter in my hands. “I wrote these words, but I’ve never felt like that about anyone. Not even Mystra…” his voice trails off. “I can’t imagine feeling like this… but I did. This is my writing, I wrote this. These are my words.”

“They are.” I hold the paper tight in my hands.

“How? How did I become this person?" he lays his hand over mine, over the letter. “When i read it, it was as if someone had reached into my heart and pulled out all my most desperate pleas. I want this. I’ve always wanted this. I thought what I had with Mystra was…. remarkable. But I say here, in this letter, I would rather have you over her, wished I’d met you before her….” He steps backwards, letting go of my hand. “It says I love you more than the weave, but that’s just not possible. It makes no sense. My magic is EVERYTHING!”

“I can’t answer that….” I tuck the letter into a pocket. “It was a different time. We went through a lot, it changed us both.”

“I need you to tell me everything.” Gale’s look is almost pleading. “The more i think, the more I want - no, need - to feel the way I did in this letter.”

I look at him, the man I loved, still love, but not a man I am familiar with these days. He’s an echo if the man I love, from months ago.

“We have 7 days until we reach Baldur’s Gate. Will that do?”

“Any time you are willing to give me I will take. I have not been good to you.” He reaches out his hand and I take it.

Up on the deck we sit side by side, leaning against the Taffrail. I tell him the full story of The wizard I pulled out of the portal and how we became friends. It is a slow telling. I try and remember every facet and nuance of each conversation, how it took him days before he grudgingly told me about his need to absorb magic items and how grateful he’d been when I handed them over without question.

I tell him about Astarion, Lae’zel, Karlach and Wyll, about the druids and the tieflings. I tell him about all the fights and battles; spiders, gnolls and undead scribes, the scrabbling to survive against all odds and the looming threat of ceremorphosis.

But it’s when I tell him about sharing the weave with him that his eyes spark. 

“Intriguing….” A smile lights up his face, and for a moment I am carried back to the moment in camp and the excitement on his face then as well. “Would you be amenable to trying again?”

I feel a murmur in the pit of my stomach and I nod, eager to recall that moment. He takes me by the hand, helping me to my feet. “Maybe somewhere a bit more private.” He smiles. “If that’s acceptable.” He leads me to my cabin and we close the door behind us, locking it. Inside it is cosy for two, but he stands opposite me and there is excitement clear on his face. Not for me sadly, for the weave.

“lets see…” he makes the same sweeping gesture as before, building a glowing ball of violet weave between his hands before gently releasing it into the room. I follow suit, it’s easier this time, my hands remember the movements. He looks impressed as I follow his gestures and a similar pulse of weave bursts into the room. The air sparkles and I feel a warmth flood through me, safe and content, like a warm blanket, or a mother’s love.

“Excellent, now the incantation.” He looks me in the eyes as he speaks the words I recall from that night. “Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao”

I repeat the words, holding his gaze. They trip off my tongue, they’re practically burned into my mind. He looks at me curiously, respect blooming in his eyes.

The cabin suddenly smells like rosewater, there is sweetness in my mouth, like honey. It sends a shiver through my entire body, the smell and taste that I associate completely with Gale. It is a beautiful and painful sensation. Gale notices my shiver, and a blush blooms on his cheeks.

“And now the concept of Harmony.” I offer, before he can suggest it to me. He nods thoughtfully. I close my eyes and imagine Gale and I lying side by side, staring into each other’s eyes.

There is a sense of energy building and the cabin is suddenly flooded with lilac light. Mystra is here, she recognises me and there is a sense of familiarity, of curiosity.

“She knows you!” Gale’s shock is palpable.

“I’m not saying we’re exactly friends, but we’ve had dealings.” In my mind’s eye I nod my head to her, a sign of respect. There is no ill will any more. I can almost feel her laughter in my mind, it lifts me

I can feel Gale next to me. His body is energised from the weave and this connection to Mystra. This is the closest he’s been to pleasure for the longest time. He is relaxed, surprised, elated. This is his world and the excitement of sharing it with another is not something he expected.

“What happened after this?” he asks, his eyes are sparkling with lilac light and his hair is a little mussed. I want to tuck the strands back behind his ear. “Back in the camp, what happened?”

“This….” I whisper under my breath, closing my eyes, imagining a kiss, my hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under my fingers. I hear his inhalation of breath, but he says nothing, stays motionless.

In my mind I continue the scene, he strokes my hair, running his hands over my back, before lowering his head to kiss my neck. In the scene I create, I throw my head back, delighting in the feather light sensations of him kissing my neck. His hands press my lower body into his, and I sigh out loud. I feel warm air on my face. Gale is standing so close to me I can feel his breath on me, he is almost panting, inches away.

He steps back, embarrassed. “Sorry, I got carried away.” He stumbles over his words. The weave links us still and I can feel his desire, tempered with confusion and fear.

Maybe Mystra’s tampering with his body has changed him, maybe it’s my own connection to her, maybe it’s a link back to what we once had together or a combination of all three, but this time the connection through the weave is almost tangible, so much stronger than before, and unlike our previous experiment, it shows no sign of dissipating.

I suddenly realise that this Gale is even more damaged than the one I met when I pulled him out of the portal. The pain of the netherese orb, the loss of his powers and his rejection by Mystra are all recent events to him, still raw. He is a far more brittle and broken version of the man that I love, one that existed before he started to see a future beyond Mystra. Through the link I realise the deepest truth about him, something that he’d already begun to get beyond when we finally connected.

Every aspect of his worth is integrally linked to his magical ability. Since Mystra found him as an easily influenced teenager so long ago, he has come to believe that it is his connection with the weave that gives him value. It is the weave that makes him of use, makes him enough of a man to walk the world. In Gales mind, without it, he is nothing. No wonder he was so prideful of his abilities, in his mind, it was all he had, everything he was.

Something he said to me after we spent our first night together sticks in my mind; ‘To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command… None have loved me so purely before.’

All that ambition, all that pride, not just for the want of power, but for the need of worth, to feel as though he deserved first Mystra and now me.

How could I have gotten it all so wrong. No wonder that letter stung him so badly. This Gale cannot conceive of a version of himself where he does not NEED his magic. The Gale I lost had come to learn that, learn that I loved the man, not the magic within

I take his hand in mind, not even knowing where to begin in helping him see past this. This time there is no orb to worry about. I plant a kiss on the palm of his hand, part comfort, part the burning need inside me. I linger, breathing in the scent of his skin as I look into his eyes.

“We can stop.” My voice sounds loud in the small room. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I don’t know….” Gales emotions pour through him. In his mind, he’s been without Mystra for months and she has been his only lover for years. In the memories that were removed, he had spent decades, unloved and untouched in Mystra’s realm. Even in reality, it had been months that he’d been gone. In all instances, he’s been without human touch for enough time that the thought of another human filling that need is terrifying. But the temptation of knowing someone could love him not because of the magic, but despite it, well, that feeling is intoxicating.

“Slowly?” I whisper and he nods. I step closer, my heart fluttering. “close your eyes.” He does so, standing in the cabin, his face a mask of hope and fear. I kiss him, a light brush of my lips on his. And he sighs. I kiss him a little harder and his mouth yields to mine, softening.

It’s been months since I kissed Gale properly. I’ve dreamed of it so many times and he’s here, his flesh and blood lips on mine. He feels my absolute joy through the weave and if makes him open his eyes and stare. “I can feel you, you want me that badly.” His face is a mirror of shock. No one has ever wanted him like this. He’s almost intimidated by how much I need him, followed by quick-fire gusts of excitement and desire. He deepens the kiss and gingerly runs his hands down my back, I shudder, my skin craving him, it is a tangible hunger that I cannot hide from him and I can feel him reveling in that hunger.

“what did I do to you, to make you want me like this.” He whispers into my ear. “what did I do?”

Before I can stop it, Images flash through my mind. Gale handing me a bowl of food in camp, smiling softly. Gale and I lying in bed, there is a book between us and he’s pointing out something on the page, his face flushed with excitement. Gale and I in battle, back to back, knowing that we can absolutely trust each other, that we will never fall if we stand together. Finally, I show him the image of me lying on our bed, looking down my naked body, sweat glints on my chest and stomach and I am basking in the pleasure of his tongue between my legs. In the image he looks up at me, dark eyes full of fire and excitement. My fingers clutch at the bed as wave after wave of pleasure pours through me.

He laughs, and it’s a joyous sound. “Well I can assist in one of those visions!”

Chapter Text

He steps forward, causing me to step backwards, holding me close to him as he lowers me down gently onto the cabin bed. It would be spacious for one, but is snug for two. He doesn’t seem to care.

He stretches his full length down along my body and continues kissing me, eventually lowering his head to kiss my neck, just as I showed him in the vision. He stays there for a moment, nuzzling warm into my skin before moving off the bed, kneeling next to it in the small floorspace.

“I never meant to hurt you.” He whispers. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You’re not.” I reach for him. I just know that if we are together, nothing can be wrong. He strokes my cheek, before running his hands down my shirt, slowly unbuttoning the linen, pausing between each button. He pulls it open gently, sighing as he sees my body. He helps me sit up, peeling the fabric from me and cautiously removing my undergarments as though he is giving me the opportunity to protest.

From the earliest moments of our relationship I realised that Gale loves kissing, loves using his mouth on me. Nothing has changed in that area. He runs his tongue down my neck, kissing the base of my throat. I don’t want to move, in case it somehow scares him off. I just want to lie here reveling in these feelings.

His fingers lightly touch my breasts, unsure, but somehow determined. I sigh, I have missed his talented hands so much. Emboldened, he places small kisses on those mounds, sucking my nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the excited buds. I shiver and he grazes teeth lightly over the sensitive quivering as I tangle my hands into his hair and he groans as I do.

“it’s strange, I don’t know you, but this is…. familiar.” He kisses lower, pausing at my bellybutton, he looks up at me with his dark eyes and there is a glint of recognition. “Do I do this a lot?”

“Every opportunity that avails you.” My voice is breathy. “Sometimes twice.”

He lays his head on my stomach looking up at me, the weave is still there, still connecting us together  and I can feel his excitement, but also the fear. It’s been a long time, he doesn’t want to fail in this, it would rock his very core if this were to be dissatisfying.

I take his hand and run it down my body, over my clothed hips and my groin, which I am convinced is burning hotter than ever before. He tucks his fingers in the waistband of my trousers, inching them down over my hips, leaving me in just my underwear. He lingers there, at the apex of my legs.

“I want to make you feel the way you did in that memory.” His breath is hot on my skin. It’s almost too much to bear. He peels away my underwear and throws the sodden mass aside, I am naked now, watching him gaze at my body, he strokes one finger down my thigh and enjoys watching the skin twitch in response.

His exploration is slow, as I imagine our first time would have been if we hadn’t been dis-incorporated in the astral planes. It’s pleasant, real, genuine. He kisses my thighs, using his hands to gently pull them apart, stroking one hand down into the warmth there, before tentatively sliding one finger between those soft folds to find an abundance of wetness.

I moan, feeling that finger gain ingress, he bites into my thigh gently, leaving a perfect pale ring of teeth marks as he strokes in and out, teasing me.

“This is a most inconvenient layout.” He muses, helping me turn on the bed so that my legs hang over the edge and his mouth is conveniently placed at my groin. He blows cool breath over me and watches my reactions as I twitch and sigh. Using his fingers, he pries apart my most secret places, exploring me gently, stroking and gently teasing that little nubbin which quivers at his touch.

He leans closer, putting my legs over his shoulders and closing his mouth over that hot damp flesh. His clever tongue swirls within the folds before swooping upwards, he sucks greedily on me, sliding first one, then two fingers into me as he laps at the exquisitely tangle of nerves, grazing with his teeth, making me cry out.

This has always been his act of worship and I claw at the bed clothes, my back arched. I look down and just like the vision, he is watching me, dark eyes sparkling with lilac and his hair mussed from where I ran my fingers through it.

“Is it good.” He asks needily, breathlessly

“Gods, so good.” I mutter. “but I’d be happier if you were in an equally unclothed state.”

He stands, stepping backwards into the centre of the room. I know that through the weave he can feel the weight of my regard for him, the desire. He’s reveling in it, the need that he always wanted sated but could never manage.

He slowly undoes the buttons on his tunic, teasing me with sight of the tattoo like mark of the orb as his neckline falls open. His gaze fixes on me, he pulls the soft fabric over his head and drops it onto the floor next to my discarded clothes. I bite my lip, watching his body, broad shoulders and a smattering of hair across his chest. He can feel my admiration and it’s as if he blossoms before my eyes. I hold out my hand to him, turning to lie back on the bed, inviting him to join me.

He crawls over to me, pressing his body against mine, I can feel his arousal against me, he pushes his thigh down between my legs and the pressure is delicious, I imagine my juices sinking into the fabric of his trousers, soaking into that hardness jutting from his body. His weigh bears down on me, rubbing against the soft folds and all that sensitivity. I lift my hips, pressing my body against his, holding onto him tightly, allowing the warmth of him and the scent of his skin, to fill my senses.

I can sense how good it feels to him, his desire is washing over me. He wants more, but his sense of preservation is holding him back. It’s a tempest of emotion, the fear of the unknown, but the potential ecstasy.

“The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other.” I whisper in his ear. Reaching down to start sliding his trousers over his hips. He lifts his body to help me and we manhandle the inconvenient fabric away.

He buries his face in my neck, I can sense the vulnerability in him. It’s been so long since he was so laid bare. Even with Mystra, the joining had been more esoteric, spiritual, a celebration of the weave in many ways. I know he’s been with mortal lovers in the past, he’s told me that himself, but for this version of him, it has been so long since he was touched in this way and he’s unsure of himself. Unsure of how to be a lover without the weave being integral to the act.

I see now why he was so desperate for the first time with me to be in the astral plane, he feels safe there. Not like now, where he needs to be a mortal man, without the one thing that he feels makes him special.

“This is perfect.” I stroke his back, trailing my nails lightly up his skin, feeling him shudder under me. I let him feel my admiration of his body, of the way he makes me feel, the hunger for the velvet soft hardness pressed against my stomach.

He moves, spurred on, sliding his legs between mine, opening me up and pressing himself against that moist wet centre of my being until I engulf just the tip. It draws a ragged gasp from my throat, and the need threatens to overwhelm me, the surge of emotions filling me.

I wrap my legs around Gale’s waist, forcing him into me, filling me almost too rapidly. I groan and he lifts himself on his hands, looking down at me, down at the line of my body beneath his. He pulls out, leaving me almost empty before plunging back, lifting his body so that the exquisite length of him is rubbing upwards on the most sensitive places, creating tension and the delicious sensation of heat building between my legs.

I could not be more open to him, as I reach my peak and call his name into the small cabin. My body beneath him - all totally his in that moment - and my mind, linked through the weave. If he was a goblet I would pour my love into him until it overflowed, like a dam breaking, an unstoppable torrent.

In that moment I know that she is here too, connected to us, it is Mystra who is keeping the weave an active link – an apology of sorts, a gift. She is astounded by the feelings that I pour into him. Somewhere, the goddess of magic, of the weave itself, feels everything I do and she understands – just for a moment - the human heart.

The feelings overwhelm him, it was not my intention to lay myself so totally bare before him, his own climax takes him and he is born on that wave of emotion as well as sensation. He is loved, he is wanted and he will always, always be enough.

As the ripples of pleasure drift through our bodies, I feel the weave retreat and silently thank Mystra for connecting us.

“I never imagined…” Gale’s voice trails off. “no wonder you changed him…. me, I mean.”

I lie back, my legs probably won’t work for a while. “That was unexpected.” I smile to myself as he moves to lie next to me, finding space on the small bed for his tall frame

“She was with us wasn’t she. Just for a moment.” He touches my face gently, almost cautiously.

“I think she feels bad.” I hold his hand to my face. “Elminster said she had great gifts to bestow. That was certainly a gift.”

“Good.” Gale leans up on one arm, looking down at me. “because I have another favour to ask of her.

By the time our ship docks at Baldur’s gate, We disembark hand in hand. It’s not perfect, it’s hard to move forward when one of you has experienced months of a relationship, including marriage and the other is only seven days into a romance.

Our cases and trunks are sent to the Elfsong tavern, the very same room, oh so familiar to me, entirely new to Gale. Having arrived in just the clothes he landed in, we shop for him first. It reminds me of our shopping trip to Elessors, only I get to lounge in the chair approving his outfits.

The city is still in the throes of reconstruction. Months on, the debris is cleared and the buildings are starting to be rebuilt. The city is prosperous again and it does my heart good to see its recovery.

We rest that night, spend time exploring each other’s bodies, tentatively for Gale as everything is new, reassuring for me as familiar sensations.

The next morning, refreshed, we make our way to the Tabernacle. Five months ago, Gale made this journey by himself and it began the path that brought us here. Now, we go together, both nervous.

The statue of Mystra is still there, and Gale stands before it, head bowed. Whispering a small prayer. In a moment there is a small shift in the air, the scent of rosewater and what I now know as Mystra’s familiar presence.

“Are you ready?” he looks down at me, and grasping my hand tightly, reaches for the sliver of weave which will take us to her. There is the same rushing sensation and we are once again in Mystra’s realm. She stands before us.

“Gale Dekarios, back in my presence again?” there is a wry smile on her lips. “I thought you needed time away from me.”

“I thank you for respecting our wishes and giving me the time I needed.” He bows, a sign of respect.

“Time spent with you and your companion certainly has been an interesting experience, that I cannot deny.” She looks at me and there is almost a twinkle in her eye. We both know what we shared.

“I’ve come to petition you.” He holds out his hands in supplication. “A favour.”

“Speak it, at the very least I will listen.” Her face is kindly. I have hope.

“I need my memories back.” Her face hardens for a moment, but Gale continues. “I know why you took my weave from me. I understand. It was a remarkable creation, something of my own making, like nothing I had ever felt before, but I understand.”

“Gale of Waterdeep finding wisdom at last?” she raises one perfect eyebrow. “Continue.”

“But the memories you took, have changed me and I need them back. I’m a better man with them.”

“Remake them.”

“I can’t, they were…. unique. A different time and a situation that cannot be replicated. I want to be that man again and I can’t be unless you return them.”

“The knowledge is dangerous.” She walks around him, scrutinising him. “Just knowing how to create the weave is a danger to me and all magic in the realm.”

“But.” Gale holds up his hand. “As your chosen, I would be as responsible for the integrity of magic as you are. It would be my solemn duty to protect the very fabric of the weave as though it were my own.”

“You would return to me?” she stares at him, her eyes lighting up.

“As your chosen yes.” He glances over at me. “As your lover, no.”

“And you would remain on the material plane.”

“Yes, for as long as this life allows me, but I will come to you when you call and be your right hand in matters of magic – within reason.”

“Why is this so important?” she is looking more at me than at Gale.

“I have learnt that magic is a part of who I am – it is not everything I am.” He walks to me and takes my hands in his. “I have other desires now, my tower, my books, my cat and this woman here.” He kisses my hands. “I want to remember every moment we spent together rather than hear it as a story told to stranger. I want to be the man who fell in love with her, the man that I became to deserve her.”

Mystra looks at him, there is minor flash of irritation – after all, what goddess wants to be supplanted by a human – but mostly there is curiosity, interest. For an excruciating moment she looks at us, considering his words

“Your petition is acceptable. Gale of Waterdeep. By your agreement you are my chosen.” She reaches out and touches his chest lightly with one finger, there is a small flare of magic and the scar on his chest floods with purple light, flowing from the centre outwards until it fades in the marks around his eye.

“Thank you.” Gale bows his head solemnly, the scar pulses, gently imbued by her power.

“I will try not to call on you too often.” She smiles at me. “I understand your cat and your books may keep you busy. I also gift you a reminder of your achievement, as a thank you for your service to magic, to me.” She takes his hand and touches his wrist. For a second there is a flash of golden light and there, left on his skin is a perfect circle of rapidly dimming gold fire, leaving a burnished bronze mark indelibly placed on him. “A fragment of your own weave to hold in perpetuity, as a thank you…. and apology.”

It is all I can do not to gawp at her. Such benevolence. Neither of us expected it

“And lastly…” She lays one hand on his head and there is a silver blue glow. It’s as though Gale’s whole body spasms and he collapses to his knees. I rush to him and he holds me tightly as I help him to his feet.

“Gods, I remember.” He whispers to me, grabbing my face between his hands and kissing me deeply. “I am so sorry, everything I put you through. Unforgivable, unforgivable.”

I hang onto him, gripping his tunic in my hands, staring into his face, It really is my Gale, I can see the recognition in his eyes and feel his pounding heartbeat through my hands. “You’re back, finally you’re here. I can’t believe it.” Tears course down my face and he folds me into his arms, his face in my hair, whispering a world of reassurances to me.

“I expect my chosen to be the best version of himself that he can be.” We look back at Mystra, who smiles at us, almost as a proud parent. “And to you young lady, I demand that your future care of my chosen be exemplary, especially if what you shared with me recently is anything to go by.”

I blush. Gale looks down at me, a similar flush on his cheeks.

“I think we can safely promise you many more instances of such care.” Gale kisses me again almost feverishly, as Mystra’s form fades into the background with a faint tinkling laugh. I sink into him, loosing myself in the moment as he pulls me into his embrace, where it is safe and welcoming, and smells of rosewater and warm, dry grass.

Chapter Text

“You’re sure?” I break the bread in half and slather one piece with butter and honey

“Well….” Gale is sipping tea, staring at me over the top of the cup. “Not absolutely sure, but at least… very curious?”

“That’s new.” I lick a drizzle of honey from one finger and watch as his brown eyes go from amused to hungry. “You were always dead against it.”

“Yes, well my wife is apparently a temptress who intends to corrupt this poor son of Waterdeep.” He takes the bread from my hands and places it gently on the plate in front of me, sucking the offending finger into his mouth. “I’m trying to be a more enlightened person.”

It’s spring and Baldur’s Gate is coming to life as the sun rises, warming the streets. We are still here, in our suite at the Elfsong Tavern, making the most of our extended honeymoon.

Two months have passed. So far Mystra has been fair, summoning Gale on a few occasions, small tasks, I believe just to keep him attentive.

Life is good. Gale is sitting opposite me, in a loose robe of indigo that he’s left open. He knows I like to see him like this, like to be able to run my hands over his body without annoyances like fabric getting in the way. This morning the orb scar glows a faint purple. The small gold hoop on his wrist occasionally flares to life, usually when he’s particularly content, it too is glowing faintly this morning. A good sign.

“How is this enlightened?” I allow him to lick the last remnants of honey from my fingers.

“Well, I don’t need to control everything anymore and I don’t need to see myself as somehow lesser.” He moves behind the chair where I am sitting, bending to kiss the lobe of my ear and my neck. “I know you love me, know you can’t be tempted away from me.”

“And you think he’s beautiful. I smile, letting my head fall to one side for easier access.

“He thinks I’m beautiful too.” Gale sets his teeth on my neck. “you told me.” He bites down gently. “Maybe this appeals to me.” I shiver, feeling a delicate hint of pain together with a frisson of pleasure.

“We have to be certain though.” I run my fingers through his hair, it’s slightly longer now and he’s taken to tying it back. I pull the tie out and let if fall forward “It would not be fair to offer and then rescind.”

“mmmm…” Gale runs his hands down my front, inside the robe I’m wearing. “You smell like our bed.”

“Concentrate.” I lean away from his touch. How we get anything done at all is a mystery to me. “If we do this once, it will probably become a regular thing. It’s not…. Conventional.”

“I can accept that.” He moves to me, pulling me into his arms. “I can’t deny there are feelings there and despite my original refusal, it’s equally undeniable that the thought of seeing you with him….. excites me.” He looks down pointedly where the signs of his excitement is evident. “I can’t explain it, nor do I want to, it’s just….. him.”

“So we’re agreed.” I kiss him gently, before taking his hand and leading him back to bed. “tonight it is.”

It’s full dark by the time there is a rap on our door. Gale goes to open it and I can see an almost feverish look in his eyes. Astarion is leaning on the door frame looking like perfect sculpted marble.

“I heard you were back, such a shame. I was planning on seducing your wife.” He looks over at me. “Two months. I did promise.”

“You did.” I smile. “Come in. you’re very welcome.”

“You look ravishing.” I note that he is glancing between both me and Gale when he says this, as he licks his lips slightly. I feel my temperature rise.

“You’re so sure you could have seduced her?” Gale hands the pale elf a glass of wine and he sinks into one of the chairs, gracefully resting one leg over the arm.

“A heartbroken, abandoned wife, left high and dry by her cad of a wizard husband?” Astarion smiles. “Who knows darling.”

“Well not heartbroken anymore.” I lean forward, “but it’s lovely to see you.”

“You have the lives of a cat Gale, I don’t know how you do it.”

“Luck and good friends.” He smiles, coming to stand behind me. “I owe you a lot, you were there for her when I couldn’t be.” Astarion waves a hand in the air as if to indicate his support was nothing.

“We have a gift for you.” I stand up

“A gift, how charming!” Astarion’s eyes twinkle. I wonder if he knows. He’s always had a sensitive sense of smell. Maybe he can smell my desire.

Gale takes my hand in his and walks me to where Astarion is lounging. “Here.”

“Here?” Astarion’s interest is peaked, he leans forward

“Yes my friend, our gift to you is her.” Gale steps forward again, going to crouch by the pale elf. “Unless you’d rather have me.” Gale gently presses his lips to Astarion’s and my legs go weak.

He pulls back. “What is this.” His eyes narrow suspiciously. “You’ve always said no.”

“I’ve been through enough to see that this life is worth grasping by both hands. I would always regret if I didn’t take every chance to love and be loved.”

“Me also.” I move to Astarion, kissing his lips gently before turning to kiss Gale. “We both care for you very deeply and want you to be happy.”

“Well I’m all for happiness.” Astarion purrs, “especially if it’s mine.” He rubs his hands together. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been given such a gift, do I get to unwrap it?

Gale takes his hand and leads him to the bed. Luckily, it’s large enough for three and the sight of Gale pushing Astarion back onto the bed makes me shiver. Gale in a dominant role is something unexpected, and I like it.

Gale turns to look at me, beckoning me over, I follow, curling on Astarion’s right, as Gale, lies on his left “What do you want?” Gale whispers into the elf’s ear.

“I want her.” He looks over to me. “But I want to taste you, see if you taste as bad as you claimed.”

Gale smiles “Is that alright my love?”

I nod, starting to undo the cords on my gown. Astarion places a thin delicate hand on mine. “You’re my gift, don’t I get to unwrap you?”

He starts slowly, unlacing the cords holding my long gown closed at the neck, as he does so, the fabric falls open, revealing the mounds of my breasts. He makes appreciative noises, lowering his head to kiss them gently. I glance over, Gale is watching us, his eyes dark intense. One hand loosely rubs the fabric over his groin, which is already showing signs of his enjoyment.

I allow myself to enjoy Astarion’s caresses. His fingers are insistent, lowering the fabric until it pools around my waist, gently stroking the flesh he finds, rolling his fingers around the engorged nipples. He lowers his head and the daintiest flick of his tongue elicits a small groan from my mouth.

“She makes the prettiest noises” Astarion looks over at Gale, who’s eyes are half lidded, there is a small damp mark on his breeches. He was right about seeing us together exciting him.

“She does.” Gale seems to wake up a little, crawling over to us and lying back on the pillows, leaning my body against him, my hips between his legs. He pulls my hair to the side. “try her neck, she will make the most adorable sounds then.

Astarion crawls towards me, my cloths are in disarray and my husband is presenting me to a new lover. Astarion is over me now, breath on my neck. He darts his tongue out, a gentle flick and I sigh. I look over and Gale’s hand is tangled in all that fine white hair encouraging him on. It’s too much, I shiver, a spasm flowing down me.

Astarion feels me react and breaths into my neck. “Well that was charming, lets see if we can do that again.” His teeth graze me, sharper than Gales, there is danger there and I like it.

He moves to kneel further down my body, he pulls the silk of my nightgown down over my hips and it slides softly over my skin as I lift my body to make it easier to remove. “Beautiful.” He whispers under his breath, kneeling between my thighs and gently pulling them open. His fingers trace the edges of those folds, digging in slightly, eagerly.

A little pressure and one finger slips between, stroking up and down, spreading the moisture he finds. “Well, she’s certainly enjoying this.” He looks up at Gale, who has taken over the gentle stroking of my breasts and nipples. So many hands on me, I’m almost delirious.

“Maybe we should even things up slightly.” I feel Gale above me, pulling his shirt over his head, I am lying on the warmth of his naked chest, watching my other lover slowly undo his shirt.

“Watch me.” Astarion whispers and I lock my eyes on him as Gale kisses my neck.

Astarion is muscled, but slimmer than Gale, almost hairless, his white skin glowing in the lamp light. He slowly undoes his trousers, letting them slide down his hips. He is clearly excited. Just as with his body, he’s more slender, but the length is impressive…..

“You too Gale!” I demand as I watch as Astarion run his hand up and down himself, All ivory smoothness.

Gale lifts his hips, sliding his trousers down, pressed against my back, I can feel his excitement. I am almost giddy, so much bounty in my bed, and all to be shared.

Astarion crouches, kneeling between my legs, his long fingers open me up, exploring, playing. He finds that bundle of nerves and pinches gently, stroking with skilled hands.

“How do you feel.” Gale whispers in my ear. “Are you excited?”

I can barely speak, “Gods” I choke. “It’s almost too much”

Gale moves, lying me back on the bed and kneeling next to me, taking my face in his hands and kissing me deeply. “In a moment I’m going to watch as he slides into you.” He whispers. “Imagine that. Imagine how beautiful it will be.”

His words almost send me into a frenzy. My husband, my Gale, knowing exactly how to captivate my mind

“I don’t know what you’re saying to her.” Astarion drawls, his gaze fixed on my warm wetness, “but it’s certainly having an effect…”

“Best do something about it then.” Gale smiles down the bed, stroking me, my neck, my shoulders

Gently, Astarion crawls up the bed, smiling at us, but eyes on Gale. He aligns himself with my body and gently pushes, sliding into me.

He’s not as thick as Gale, but the length is delicious. He gently presses forward, reaching places never reached before. I moan and Gale kisses me, feeling me breathe my passion into his mouth.

“lie next to her.” Astarion commands and Gale does so, his leg pressed against my shoulder, his aroused hardness jutting up. Astarion leans forward, starting his slow movements in and out of me, building my arousal as he presses his mouth over Gales Velvet soft skin and sinks down, taking all of it into his mouth. Gales back bows, he was expecting to be bitten but this, on top of everything else, is too much.

Astarion’s pace quickens. I feel Gale’s strong hand between my legs, reaching for, and finding, the sensation of another man taking pleasure in his wife and starts stroking me gently, helping that erect bud burn and twitch.

“Gods!” I hear Gale mutter, his voice strangled from trying to hold back. I turn my head to see Astarion lift off and instead plunge his teeth into Gale’s thigh. With a strangled cry of absolute pleasure I watch as he almost screams out his climax, splashing on to his stomach and chest.

Astarion gulps, the blood pouring down his throat and suddenly the warmth moving inside me gets hotter, thicker, almost burning. It tips me over and as I feel Astarion pour into me there is a tsunami of pleasure and I claw at his back.

We are spent, collapsed on the bed. Astarion, lying over me, his mouth bloody and his white hair curling round my shoulders.

“That was….” Gale starts, but is unable to finish.

“I’m going with rousing success.” I laugh, gently rolling Astarion off me so the dazed Elf is lying beside me. He cuddles back up against me.

“Does that mean I can come back?” Astarion’s voice is confident, cheeky, but behind it there is a painful hint of need in his voice.

“Not all the time, but yes.” Gale is still breathing heavily. “you can definitely come back.

“Good”, Astarion drawls, voice back to it’s usual tone. “Because you lied, you taste delicious.”