quizzievivicalavellan

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Inspired by this party banter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLJG25p75Yk

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Rook and Neve on a stakeout... well, more an impatient Rook distracting Neve from a stakeout, not that she minds 😏

[quizzievivicalavellan]

After Everything

In which Aster (Tav) begs Gale not to seek solace in the abyss. A little rework of the conversation near the end of Act 2 to heighten the drama.

***********************************************

Words are not strong enough to describe the sheer terror of witnessing an Elder Brain. A massive and monstrous mind laid bare, tentacles writhing in the miasmic air of the dark cavern. Aster stared, frozen in fear, her heart pounding and her mind racing wordlessly. Finally, a single sentence emerged amidst the senseless buzzing thoughts.

What in all Nine Hells have I gotten myself into?

The touch of a hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality. She looked up at Gale, his face alight with a look of wonder that stood in sharp contrast to her own horror.

“Look at that crown. It radiates with power unlike anything I’ve ever seen. To have it… to hold… if only I could…”

His face darkened, and he inhaled slowly, a deep, steadying breath. “But I can’t… This is it. I must do as Mystra commands.”

“Mystra doesn’t know what a strong team we have here,” Karlach placed a comforting hand on Gale’s shoulder. “We can win this fight, right guys?” Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Wyll nodded, weapons ready. 

"Yes, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not explode," Astarion chimed in, glowering at Gale. 

"Do not worry, you need not pay for my mistakes. I can spirit you all away to safety before unleashing the orb. If I just release its power, this can all be over, here and now. Everyone will be safe," Gale said, staring at Aster with a small, bittersweet smile. 

As terrified as Aster was of the Elder Brain, she was even more scared of the look of resolve in Gale's eyes. This is what she had been most afraid of, why she had hesitated to get closer to Gale. The closer she got, the more this moment would hurt. Naively, after the night they had shared together, she thought he had finally abandoned this self-destructive crusade. He had said that morning after that she had led him away from the precipice, that she had reminded him what living could feel like. She had believed him.

And yet, even after everything she had said, everything they had shared, after entwining their very souls, he was still going to go through with it. 

"Gale, please, don't do this," Aster begged. 

“What choice do I have? More than just a goddess counts on my courage; whole worlds hang in the balance.” 

“You could choose to find another way with me. With us, people that care about you. Please. I love you. I… I need you.” Her voice shook. Tears pricked at Aster’s eyes and she buried her face in Gale’s robes. Her hands clenched at the fabric as if she could keep him here by simply not letting go. She was sure she looked pathetic, pleading and crying and clutching at his robes like a child for everyone to see, but for once she didn’t care. 

Gale knelt down before her to meet her eyes, “I love you too. Much more than myself. More even than Mystra.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “And I trust you. If you think there is another way, then I trust we will find it.”

“We will,” Aster whispered. She pulled him closer and kissed him, savoring his presence. Ketheric, the tadpole, the Elder Brain; everything faded away until only the two of them remained. 

“Tch,” Lae’zel interrupted, “This is not the time for sentimentality. We have a battle to fight.”

“Oh, come on, let them have a moment,” Karlach countered, “Ketheric’s not going anywhere, and he’ll be equally dead when we’re done with him,” she said, pounding her fist into her palm. 

Gale stood and looked out into the dark cavern with newfound resolve to find another way forward. He grasped his staff with both hands and looked back at Aster. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

Aster nodded. At that moment, she felt ready to face anything.

[quizzievivicalavellan]

My Rooks 🥰 I love them all so much and am having a blast with Veilguard!

[quizzievivicalavellan]

A Surprising Proposal

I am so pumped for Veilguard and it has me right back in my Dragon Age obsession lol. I'm still not over Dorian leaving at the end of Trespasser, so here is he and my Inquisitor's cutesy and romantic reunion. Hope you enjoy!

****

“Fasta vaas! Where is he?” Dorian swore under his breath. He was clutching the sending crystal amulet so tight his knuckles were turning white, and his knee was bouncing up and down with impatience and anxiety.

“Busy, most likely. He is one of the most important people in Thedas, after all. Continuing to glare at that thing won’t make him call any sooner,” Neve replied with a good-natured roll of her eyes. As two Tevinter mages set on righting the wrongs of their homeland, the pair had quickly struck up an alliance upon Dorian’s return to Minrathous.

His other ally and old friend, Maevaris, entered the room carrying two glasses of a fine Tevinter red. “Come now, darling, have a drink, relax. If anything had happened, that spymaster friend of yours would have sent word.”

“Unless they were both assassinated,” Dorian retorted. “That is the sort of thing that would happen to them.” He sighed. “He was supposed to call four days ago; he’s never been that late before.”

The soft, familiar hum of a sending crystal startled Dorian so much he nearly jumped out of his chair.

Unfortunately, the amulet he still clutched tightly in his fist remained dull and silent. He resisted the impulse to throw it across the room in frustration.

Neve held up her own sending crystal close to her ear to hear the whispered message from the speaker on the other end. “Got a couple of slave wagons on the move down by the docks, near Ilario’s Imports. Figured you’d want to check it out. Free a few elves, crack a few slavers’ skulls.”

“I’ll be there soon. Thank you, Flavia,” Neve whispered back to the elven spy, one of many in Neve’s network of Shadow Dragons. Once the crystal went silent, Neve walked over to the door, grabbing her staff before turning back to face Dorian and Maevaris.

“Well, are you coming? Could be a fun distraction,” she said with a twirl of her staff.

“Sure, prowling around dark alleys at night sounds sooo much more fun than sitting back with a glass of wine,” Maevaris replied with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head.

“Normally, I’d agree, but alas, a very handsome idiot who is four days late calling me somehow inspired me to be a revolutionary. And now here I am, giving up a quiet evening and a good vintage to stalk around in the rain and the dark and the cold,” Dorian complained in his exaggerated, theatrical fashion. “I could have been lounging in a castle being hand-fed grapes by Inquisition forces, you know, but I just had to come back and save my homeland.”

“Oh yes, how very noble and selfless of you,” Neve teased, “Truly, you have a heart of gold.”

Maevaris sighed dramatically. “Fine, have it your way, but you owe me a bottle of Agreggio.”

Staves in hand, the three mages snuck out into the dark, rainy streets of Minrathous. 

**************************

The trio waited in an alley for the approaching slave wagons. Unfortunately, there was no overhang to block the onslaught of rain. A very wet Maevaris glared at Dorian from behind dripping blonde bangs.

“Why did I agree to this again?”

“A bottle of Agreggio.”

“Right,” Maevaris sighed, “better make that two.”

“Shh, they’re getting close,” Neve whispered, “Maevaris, distract the driver in the lead wagon. Dorian and I will sneak around and open the one in the back.”

Maevaris nodded before waltzing out of the alley with as much grace and bravado as one sopping wet magister could muster. “Excuse me, dear, could I ask you a question?”

Dorian and Neve could hear the muffled sound of Maevaris talking the driver’s ear off as they walked quickly but quietly toward the last wagon.

The doors of the wagon were locked shut and the sound of scared and confused murmuring came from within. Dorian pulled on a bit of magic to break through the lock, and he and Neve carefully swung open the double doors to avoid any creaking hinges.

What Dorian saw when he opened the door was the last possible thing he was expecting.

There, standing in the middle of the wagon with the chain of his manacles wrapped around the guard’s throat, was his Amatus. Ashavan. The Inquisitor.

Dorian just stood there, dumbfounded into silence, as a familiar, mischievous grin lit up Ashavan’s face.

“Ah, Dorian. Perfect timing!”

Neve looked back and forth between Dorian and the chestnut-haired elf in the slave wagon. “Wait, is that –?”

“Andraste’s flaming tits, what are you doing here?!” Dorian interrupted.

“Coming to see you.”

“I don’t mean in Tevinter, I mean what are you doing in the back of a slave wagon?!” Dorian yelled in exasperation.  

“I should probably explain later; with this commotion I imagine we’ll be rather busy in a moment.” The guard Ashavan was choking went limp and the elf let him drop to the floor. “Would either of you happen to have a knife?”

Dorian let out an exasperated sigh as he removed the pointed end of his staff and handed it to Ashavan. The trio made quick work of the rest of the slavers; all of them had disposed of far worse foes than these pathetic, back-alley dregs. Ashavan somehow fought gracefully despite the manacles chaining his right wrist to what remained of his left arm.

Once the slavers’ corpses were decorating the rainy street, Dorian and Neve turned to face the Inquisitor. It was difficult to picture him as one of the most powerful people in the world, standing there dripping wet, dressed in what could graciously be described as rags.

“Do you want a hand with that?” Neve asked, gesturing to the manacles.

“I don’t need any hands to get out of this, but thank you anyway.” Ashavan ran his tongue along the side of his mouth, pulling forward a small metal lockpick and holding it between his teeth. He lifted his right wrist to his mouth and unlocked the metal shackle with surprising speed, quickly following with the left arm.

“It was amusing watching them try to figure out what to do with this,” Ashavan said with a smirk, lifting his arms, the left of which was missing below the elbow.

Solas, or Fen’Harel, or the Dread Wolf, whatever he called himself these days, had removed it to spare the Inquisitor from the pain of the anchor. The bald elf might be a crazed ancient god and a complete bastard, but Dorian had to admit he was grateful to Solas for that one kindness. He wasn’t sure what he would do without Ashavan, and he never wanted to find out.

Of course, Ashavan had the infuriating habit of making that desire seem increasingly unlikely, especially after this latest inconceivably idiotic misadventure. Dorian wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss him or strangle him. Possibly both. Possibly at the same time. Instead, he simply glared.  

“I had a plan to get myself out, you know. Though I loved the daring rescue. Very romantic,” Ashavan said with a wink and a subtle bite of his lower lip. Maker, he was infuriating. And so very, very handsome.

“That look isn’t going to make me stop being angry with you. It will take more than bedroom eyes for me to forget that you didn’t call for four days only to show up in the back of a slave wagon,” Dorian snapped back, though he could already feel his joy and relief at seeing him again winning out over his anger.

“While I’m sure the two of you are eager to… catch up, perhaps we could take this somewhere else? Preferably someplace drier and with fewer corpses,” Neve interjected.

“Um, yes, please, let’s do that,” Ashavan replied, looking slightly embarrassed. “I am freezing out here.”

Neve gestured to the elves in the backs of the wagons, who had been very careful pretending to not be listening to the whole conversation, to follow her. She started leading the strange procession of three Tevinter mages, one Inquisitor, and a couple dozen elves through twisting alleyways to a Shadow Dragons safehouse.

Dorian took off his overcoat as they walked and draped it over Ashavan’s bare arms.

“Can’t have the Inquisitor dying of hypothermia. How utterly embarrassing would that be?”

“You could just give me your coat to be nice,” Ashavan replied with a chuckle, pulling the coat tightly around himself.

“I’m still mad at you, remember?”

Ashavan’s hand peeked out through the opening of the coat and Dorian felt it brush against his own. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, pretending to still be upset, but his fingers curled around Ashavan’s all the same.

**********

“So,” Dorian said, turning on Ashavan now that the group had settled into the safehouse, “Care to explain yourself?”

“Well… I –” Ashavan started slowly before Maevaris sauntered up to the pair and inserted herself into the conversation.

“You must be Ashavan! My, you really are as handsome as Dorian says,” Maevaris interrupted.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Maevaris, though I’ve heard so much about you it feels like we’re already acquainted,” Ashavan replied, taking Maevaris’ hand in his own and touching his lips to her knuckles.

“Goodness, Dorian, you caught yourself quite the charmer. Better be careful, or I may just have to steal him from you,” Maevaris teased.

“Yes, yes, he’s very charming,” Dorian snapped back, rolling his eyes, “and very good at avoiding the subject. Now, are you finally going to explain what you’re doing here?”

“I told you, I was coming to see you, and I wanted to be discreet. The best way for a rather famous – or infamous, depending on who you ask – elf to sneak into Tevinter is in a slave wagon,” Ashavan replied as if it were obvious, and not a dangerous, ill-conceived idea.

“I could have gotten you into the city discreetly and safely if whatever brought you is really so important.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“And did you tell anyone about this hare-brained scheme in case something went wrong?” Dorian questioned.

“Er, no…” Ashavan trailed off, looking away sheepishly.

 “Festis bei umo canavarum,” Dorian murmured, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What was that?” Ashavan asked.

“It means ‘You’ll be the death of me,’” Maevaris translated with a smirk.

“Ah. I did think that sounded familiar.”

“So,” Dorian started, bringing the conversation back to the subject at hand, “what was so important that you had to come all the way to Tevinter just to tell me?”

“Well, it isn’t so much something to tell you, but something to ask you… I… I don’t know what you’ll say, but I decided I have to ask...” Ashavan rambled, seeming strangely nervous.

Ah. After scaling down the Inquisition following the Exalted Council, Ashavan must be determined to start his new crusade here in Tevinter. He had asked Dorian if he could come with him every time they had met over the past year, and every time Dorian had refused. It wasn’t safe for someone like him here, and selfishly Dorian wanted this to be his fight, not the Inquisitor’s. So now he had come on his own, trying to force the issue.

“I told you; I don’t need you to do this for me, and besides, you know well that Tevinter is one of the worst places for an elf. I’ve missed you, obviously, but this is something I need to do for myself,” Dorian said before Ashavan could finish asking the question.

Ashavan seemed momentarily confused by the response. Eventually, he replied, “I know, but I would like to help, as little or as much as you want me to. But more than that, what I want is to be with you.” Ashavan took a few steps closer to Dorian.

“Too much of my life has been beyond my control, and I am tired of it. I didn’t choose to be stolen from my clan as a child. I didn’t choose to be raised by Orlesian spies. And I didn’t choose to be the Inquisitor. But I chose you. And I will keep on choosing you every day, for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

Ashavan knelt down on one knee in front of Dorian, taking the mage’s hand in his own. “What I am trying to say is, will you marry me, Dorian?”

If finding Ashavan in that slave wagon had been a surprise, this was such a shock that it bordered on incomprehensible. To Dorian, marriage had always been a prison that his father had tried to force him into, and ever since he had left Tevinter, he had not given it a second thought.

But here was Ashavan, down on one knee, proposing marriage as if it weren’t the most absurd thing in the world. Magisters and elves didn’t get married. Men didn’t get married. It just wasn’t possible. And yet… the thought of Ashavan as his husbandsent Dorian’s heart racing and hundreds of butterflies loose in his stomach. His husband.

As his mind started to once again become capable of coherent thought, he heard Maevaris squealing gleefully beside him and Neve’s footsteps as she inched closer, pretending not to eavesdrop.

“Ahem,” Ashavan cleared his throat, turning pink in the face during the long silence, “would you mind giving some kind of answer? It’s starting to get uncomfortable down here.”

“You are aware that our getting married in Tevinter would be, shall I say, deeply frowned upon, for any number of reasons?” Dorian responded, half because it was the truth and half to avoid answering.

“Obviously, though I thought you might enjoy a good scandal. As few or as many people can know as you want, I don’t care. All I care about is being with you. I love you, Dorian” Ashavan said, standing up and cupping his hand against Dorian’s face. He was so open and sincere with his feelings in a way that Dorian found utterly unrelatable and almost sickeningly sweet, and yet that was one of the things he loved most about him. One of many, many things.  

“As do I, Amatus,” Dorian answered, barely above a whisper, “and I look forward to spending my life with you, so long as you stop being so reckless with yours,” he finished with a smirk.

“I’ll try,” Ashavan replied with a chuckle before meeting Dorian’s smirking lips with his own.

Dorian put one hand behind Ashavan’s head, the other against the small of his back, pulling him closer, closer, never letting him go again. Maker, he had missed him so much it hurt. He kissed him with such an aching longing he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop.  Their mouths danced together, messy, hot, and breathless, months of love unexpressed in their time apart pouring out in a single moment. Dorian’s mouth traced a familiar path along Ashavan’s neck, his hands drifting lower…

“Ahem, we are still here, you know,” Neve said, startling the two enraptured lovers out of their passionate embrace.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Neve,” Maevaris chided.

It had felt so good, so right, to have Ashavan back in his arms again that Dorian was half tempted to rip his clothes off right then and there, damn the audience, but he could be patient. He took Ashavan’s hand and smiled. After all, they had the rest of their lives to spend together.

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Simple Pleasures

In which Gale is musing about sitting by the fire with Tara, and Aster Wild Shape's into a cat.

***************************************************

Sitting by the soft glow of the fire outside Last Light Inn, listening to the hum of familiar voices drifting through the doors of the tavern, Gale could almost forget the shadow curse that ravaged the lands beyond this small safe haven, the terrible journey that lay ahead, and what he must do at the end of that journey...

The end ...

Well, I did say ‘almost’ he thought, feeling those dark thoughts forcing their way back into the front of his mind. He took a deep breath, refocusing on the calming warmth of the fire.

It reminded him of long nights spent reading by the fireplace in his tower back in Waterdeep, Tara purring loudly curled up right beside the flames. Ah, simpler times…

Laughter poured out of the tavern, everyone amused by some joke he had missed. He turned back to the fire with a small smile that spoke of a hidden sadness. After so long spent alone in his tower, Gale found it even more difficult than before to be in a crowd. He was used to his own company and preferred it to the confusing mess of tens of people having tens of different conversations all around him, but in truth he would rather not be entirely alone tonight.

Aster was far more social than he, however, and he would never attempt to pry her away from the evening’s revelries. Aster had at last recovered from her injuries sustained while searching for Thaniel, and tonight their little troupe and the Harpers and tieflings at Last Light were having a last night of fun before they once again set out into the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Gale turned to see Aster standing behind him, as if she had read his mind. While technically a possibility given their shared tadpole affliction, she hardly needed telepathy to pull off this particular trick of timing. It would be easier to count the times he wasn’t thinking of her.

“You don’t need to come out here on my account. Go, have fun. I am perfectly content to enjoy a quiet evening in my own company,” he replied, hoping he was able to mask his desire for her to stay with nonchalance.

 “And what if I want to enjoy a quiet evening in your company?” She sat down next to him beside the fire, giving him a sultry look and placing a hand on his thigh.

Gale swallowed hard, feeling a heat that was more than the warmth of the fire. “Then I am happy to oblige. I would never refuse your company.”

“Good,” she replied softly, leaning against him and gently shifting her hand higher up his leg, sending Gale’s temperature climbing along with it.

“You seem tense, is there something on your mind?” Aster asked him, a concerned look on her face.

“Well, I…” Gale paused, thinking of how to deflect from what was truly on his mind, this being neither the time nor the place, “sitting out here reminds me of the fireplace at my tower, where I’d often sit with Tara. I never understood how she wasn’t absolutely roasting, sitting so close. Sometimes I worried she would catch her feathers on fire.”

Aster laughed at the image. “It feels different for a cat, sorry, a tressym. Heat against fur; it is a sensation of comfort like no other.” Gale supposed that, as a druid, Aster was as much of an expert in that subject as any non-feline could be.

“Alas, such simple pleasures remain outside my expansive pool of knowledge,” he replied with a dramatic sweeping gesture of the hand. Aster rolled her eyes in jest, her lips curled upward in an amused smile.

“Maybe it isn’t” Aster mused, her expression turning thoughtful, “Maybe I could show you.”

“What are you proposing?”

“The tadpoles, they let us share thoughts and experiences, right? So, if I took the shape of a cat, and we used the tadpole connection, then you could experience what it’s like to feel the warmth of a fire on your fur,” she gushed, clearly excited by the idea.

It was an intriguing notion. Gale had been curious what it felt like to be such an array of creatures as Aster could transform into since he first witnessed her Wild Shape.

“A clever idea. I always welcome the opportunity to learn something new; this time you can be the teacher and I your humble student,” Gale replied, referencing that first lesson in the Weave. 

In an instant, the beautiful red-headed gnome sitting beside him was gone, and in her place stood a tawny cat with long, thick fur and gleaming gold eyes. Aster-the-cat leapt into his lap, circling twice before settling down with her back toward the fire.

Gale reached out with the tadpole and felt Aster reaching back. Her mind felt familiar, yet subtly changed. The sensations of the senses were heightened; through her ears he could hear the creaking of tree branches, the far-off chirping of crickets, even the rhythmic beating of his own heart. Her thoughts came to him more as images and feelings than as words. And, of course, he felt through the connection the sensation of the fire’s warmth against her fur. He concentrated on that feeling, amplifying the connection until their experience was one. He felt the heat radiating across her fur as if it were his own, and the sensation was every bit as comforting as Aster had described. Gale let out a soft, pleasurable sigh, basking in the shared feeling.

After a long moment sitting quietly by the fire, Aster-the-cat shifted in his lap, nuzzling her face against his chest. She started to purr, the soft, steady rumbling breaking the silence.

On instinct, Gale brought his hand over to scratch between her ears. Her purrs grew louder as he stroked his hand across her back. There was something strangely intimate about the gesture that would likely have made Gale blush if he thought about it any harder, but at the moment the only thing he was thinking about was Tara.

Tara. His best and, until very recently, only friend. He hoped, wherever she was, that she was safe and not overly worried about him, though knowing Tara, the latter was about as likely as Lae’zel developing a sense of humor. He smiled at the thought, but nascent tears began pricking at his eyes.

He looked down to see Aster-the-cat’s giant golden eyes staring back at him with as much concern as her feline face could express. Tara had looked at him like that whenever the hunger of the orb grew painful again. That look sent the welling tears in his eyes spilling out over his cheeks.

He could sense that Aster was about to transform back when they heard footsteps approaching from close behind them. Gale rapidly wiped the tears away, hoping the darkness outside would obscure any remnants of the crying spell. He turned around to see Karlach and Astarion approaching the fire, wine goblets in hand.

“Aw, Gale, you’re missing the party!” Karlach whined, wobbling slightly from what had clearly been too much wine.

“Please, I’d hardly call that a party,” Astarion chimed in. “I’ve tasted rats better than this wine, and everyone still has all of their clothes on.”

Karlach laughed heartily in reply. Her laughter was infectious, and Gale found himself chuckling along despite himself.

Suddenly, Karlach’s laughter came to an abrupt halt as something caught her attention. “Oh. My. Gods. That cat is just adorable!!!” Karlach passed her goblet to Astarion and squatted down next to Gale to get a closer look at the feline sitting in his lap.

Aster-the-cat reached out a paw toward Karlach, who instinctually flinched away from the potential contact. Gale could practically see the moment that she remembered the fact that her latest upgrade to her mechanical heart had dampened her inner fire to the point that she was no longer a burn risk to those around her. Her face lit up like the sun and her clenched hands shook with excitement.

“I can actually pet it! For the first time in ten years, I can pet a cat. This is officially the best day ever!” Karlach exclaimed, reaching out her hand enthusiastically to pet Aster-the-cat. As she ran her fingers through the purring cat’s fur, Karlach appeared to practically melt with happiness.

“Who’s a pretty kitty? Where did you come from, hmm?” Karlach said in a sing-song voice, gently scratching Aster-the-cat under her chin.

“Oh, I think I have an idea…” Astarion said, looking pointedly at Gale. “Not just any ordinary cat, is she?” He smiled salaciously, his pointed fangs on full display. “Enjoy making her purr, Gale?”

Gale’s face instantly flushed with embarrassment, and he sputtered in protest, unable to form his rebuke into words. Karlach looked between the two with confusion for a moment before understanding dawned on her features and she put a hand up to her mouth to unsuccessfully stifle a snorting laugh.

“Nice one, Astarion,” Karlach said through laughter as she stood, “I’ll leave you two be then, didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

Astarion crouched down, waggling his finger before gently tapping it against Aster-the-cat’s nose.

“And here I thought Gale would never get any pus– OW!” Astarion yelled, shaking the hand that Aster-the-cat had just scratched.

“What was that for?” Astarion whined, licking droplets of blood off of his hand.

“Aw, come on, you had that one coming,” Karlach laughed as Aster-the-cat turned around and flicked her upturned tail dismissively.

“Fine, I suppose I deserved that, but that scratch better not leave a scar!”

“Come on, I’ll get Shadowheart to fix you up, you poor delicate vampire,” Karlach replied, guiding Astarion back toward the inn by the elbow.

“It takes a lot of effort to look this good, you know,” Astarion’s voice drifted back as the pair walked away. Once they were gone, Aster transformed back into a gnome again.

“He’s just teasing, ignore him,” she said, taking Gale’s hand in her own and brushing her thumb across his knuckles.

“Believe me, I try to,” Gale replied with an exasperated huff of a laugh.

She glanced up at him, the look in her bright green eyes shifting to concern, “I meant to ask you before, are you alright? You looked… sad.”

“I’m alright. I just… miss Tara more than I realized.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Aster said softly, her gaze shifting to the ground.

“No, you didn’t!” Gale responded reassuringly. “It was nice to think about a simpler time for moment. And you were right about the warmth of a fire against fur; what a sensation! It was a fascinating experience, joining minds with a cat. Well, a druid who was currently a cat, at any rate. It does make me wonder, given Halsin’s propensity towards an ursine form, what does it feel like to be a bear?”

Aster chuckled at that “Careful, you would look awfully tasty to a bear.”

“Oh, those bears ought to think twice. I can assure you, I taste terrible.”

Aster smirked suggestively. “Someday, I look forward to finding out whether that’s true.”

Before he could process what she just said, she stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Gale,” she said as she walked away, leaving Gale sitting there by the fire, burning on the inside.

[quizzievivicalavellan]

My six favorite idiots

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Rescue

In which a brush with danger leads to Aster being gravely injured and true feelings coming to light. Takes place after Gale's attempt at flirting in Act II. Pretending that there aren’t multiple super-easy ways to revive dead party members because it really kills the tension lol.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53341882/chapters/146060362

***********************************************

Internally, Gale was kicking himself. The effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for other forms of stimulation? Seriously? What had he been thinking?

Well, he knew what he had been thinking.

Ever since Elminster’s visit to their campsite, Gale’s mind was seemingly capable of focusing on only two subjects. One, the great and terrible burden Mystra had so dispassionately thrust upon him. The other, her. While his feelings toward her had been strong before, in the wake of his impending mortality, they had become all-consuming. Her every action, every part of her, endeared her to him further. The practiced flick of her wrist as she called down lightning. The dimple in her left cheek when she smiled. The way she quietly whistled birdsongs during their long walks. As he had said earlier whilst thoroughly embarrassing himself, he found her quite irresistible.

Unfortunately, now more than ever, he doubted that she shared similar feelings. All the way back at the Grove, when he had offered to teach her a bit of magic, he had seen her imagine kissing him through their connection in the Weave, and it had sparked some hope that she might be interested in him. In their travels since, their conversations had been easy and sometimes casually flirtatious, but if she did have deeper feelings, she had not acted on them. And now, ever since they had entered the Shadow-Cursed Lands, she had grown increasingly distant. He saw that lovely smile of hers less and less. In this dismal place, so close to the looming threat of Moonrise Towers, her burdens must have felt heavier than ever, and it pained him that he could no longer lighten them with a joke or a reassuring word. One of the few things he had been able to offer her, and now even that was not enough.

And that dreadfully worded confession certainly had not helped. She had smiled, likely out of pity or embarrassment, but it had not reached her eyes. As kind as she was, she likely just didn’t have the heart to let him down gently.

Gale looked ahead and realized he had fallen behind while wallowing in self-pity. Halsin’s torch at the front of the group had shrunk to a small glowing dot in the endless shadow. Halsin and Aster were at the head of the party, looking for signs of where they might find the other half of Thaniel. Gale was supposed to be in the middle with Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but they had moved well ahead of him by now. Karlach and Wyll had stayed behind to strategize with Jaheira as Karlach got used to the adjustment Dammon had made for her mechanical heart. Which, at the rear of the party, left…

“So, Gale, how is your sad, hopeless pining going?” Astarion asked as he appeared from the shadows.

Ah, speak of the devil. Or the vampire, in this case. Gale started in spite of himself at the rogue’s sudden appearance.

“Not very well, I take it, given that abysmal display. You know, I could give you some pointers; I am very good at that sort of thing,” Astarion bragged with a self-satisfied smile.

Gale groaned. “So you heard that, I take it.”

Astarion laughed. “Every word, unfortunately for you.”

“Just wonderful,” Gale replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. As if it weren’t enough to embarrass himself in front of her, it seemed everyone had witnessed his humiliatingly poor attempt at flirtation. Begrudgingly, Gale admitted to himself that he was envious of the way Astarion was so effortlessly smooth and confident, but he was wary of any offer of help from the duplicitous rogue.

“And why exactly would you help me?” Gale asked, raising a dubious eyebrow.

“At first, it was amusing to watch you two make longing puppy-dog eyes at each other, but at this point it’s just sad,” Astarion replied, absently twirling a knife in his hand. “Without someone to intervene, I fear your mutually oblivious pining would go on forever.”

“Mutual…?”

“Oh, Gale. I know from… experience when an individual is attracted to someone, and it is quite obvious that she likes you. Now, as to why, I have absolutely no idea –”

Just as Gale was rolling his eyes in response, Astarion was interrupted by a shout from ahead. The two of them broke into a run. Gale called upon the Weave, preparing for a fight, but his human eyes had trouble picking out their attackers in the dark.

When they caught up to the others, the fight was already in full swing. A horde of shadows and their cursed Harper victims had ambushed them. Lae’zel was cutting through enemies with ease, Shadowheart struck down shadows with her radiant cleric magic, and Halsin in bear form clawed viciously at the attackers, but more and more kept spilling out of the darkness.

Aster had been calling on her druid magic over nature, but these cursed lands weakened her power, and she was quickly surrounded. Just as he lost sight of her, an owlbear erupted from amidst the circle of shadows and Harpers. He had never seen her take the shape of an owlbear before, and the sight of the massive creature rending attackers with beak and claws was striking to behold.

Just as she had started turning the tide of the battle, however, the shadows redoubled their attack against her, and it proved too much. She began losing hold of her form, a new wild shape not yet mastered, now writhing in agony as a gruesome, twisted amalgamation of owlbear and gnome.

“Aster!” Gale cried out in a pained voice and rushed toward her, incinerating every enemy in his path. By the time he reached her she had lost hold of the shape entirely and was lying unconscious on the ground, covered in blood and bruises.

The others were rushing over to help, but Gale warned them to stay back with an outstretched hand. He drew upon the Weave, summoning immense power and channeling it out into a massive fiery explosion. The shadows and Harpers disintegrated, and the swath of cursed forest in front of them had been reduced to ash.

With the threat eliminated, he knelt down beside her, getting a closer look at her injuries. It did not look good. She was badly hurt, with multiple gashes bleeding heavily, and her breathing was shallow. Please be alright, he thought, I’m sorry I did not get her faster, I should have- I- I’m sorry…

“Shadowheart, can you…?” Gale managed to say around the lump in his throat.

Shadowheart nodded, and her hands began to glow with her divine cleric abilities. She passed her hands over Aster’s body. The bleeding slowed and her breath steadied, but she did not awaken.  

“I have healed the worst of her injuries, but she needs rest. We should get back to Last Light Inn as quickly as possible,” Shadowheart said when her work was finished.

Halsin had started to reach out his thick, strong arms to lift her up, but Gale beat him to it. Gently, he slid one arm under her knees and the other beneath her back and raised her off the ground. Even being a gnome, she was lighter than he expected, taking little effort even for his far thinner arms to lift her. She looked so small and fragile there collapsed in his arms. Guilt washed over him again for falling behind, for not protecting her from those creatures. He promised himself then that if she made it through this, please, please make it through this, he would keep her safe. He would protect her, whatever the cost. 

“Follow me, I know the fastest path back to the inn,” Halsin said, once again lifting his torch high into the air. Before starting off, he placed one of his large hands on Gale’s shoulder and gave him an empathetic smile.

“Shadowheart is a skilled healer,” he said in a soft, reassuring tone, “She will be fine.”

Gale could only pray that he was right.

*********

Everything hurt. Aster’s eyelids felt as heavy as bricks as she struggled to open them, and the bright candlelight that peeked through felt like it was stabbing into her skull. She tried to sit up but groaned at the sharp pain the movement sent through her ribs.

She felt the gentle press of a hand against her shoulder, encouraging her to stay still. She managed to open her eyes the rest of the way and turned her head toward the hand. Gale was there sitting next to her.

“Aster, thank goodness you’re awake,” he said, the relief in his voice almost palpable, but with a twinge of worry still present. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve –” Aster winced, trying to sit up again, “been better.”

She felt the soft push on her shoulder again. “Rest there, don’t try to move. I brought some things for you – potions to help with the pain, a blanket if you’re cold, or a cool cloth if you’re feverish, an extra pillow –” he rambled.

“The potion would be nice,” Aster interrupted.

“Of course. Here.” She felt the rim of a glass vial against her lips and swallowed the sweet, viscous potion.

“Mmm,” Aster moaned pleasantly, the effects of the potion already taking hold. A soothing warmth spread through her, taking the edge off the pain and clearing her thoughts. “Thank you. That feels much better.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Gale asked.

Aster noted the sticky feeling the potion had left in her mouth. “Some water would be nice, if you have some.”

“Water, of course! Why did I not think to – I’ll go fetch some. Rest there, I will return shortly,” he said, already halfway out the door before he finished speaking.

“You don’t –” have to, Aster had started to say, but he was already gone. A few moments later, two others entered the room.

 “Hey soldier!” Karlach greeted, “Good to see you awake.”

“How are you feeling?” Wyll asked as the two of them sat down beside the bed. “When the others brought you to the inn, you were in bad shape. I’m sorry we weren’t there.”

Aster waved away the unnecessary apology. “I feel better than when I first woke.” She sat up to both test and prove her point. It still sent a stab of pain through her side, but it was much more tolerable now. “What happened? How long was I asleep? I remember an ambush… and then I woke up here.”

“Yes, you were ambushed by shadows,” Wyll answered, “Halsin said you changed into an owlbear, but could not hold the shape, and those hideous creatures got the better of you. Gale incinerated them and the party rushed you back to the inn. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”

“Poor Gale,” Karlach added, “He’s been absolutely beside himself. He’s only left this room to go get things for when you woke up. You know he carried you the whole way back here? It’s sweet, how he cares about you.”

Aster smiled shyly and felt warmth in her cheeks, touched to learn of Gale’s rescue and by his attentiveness in looking after her.

Wyll cleared his throat, “Perhaps this is not the time or the place, but I have to ask, I get the feeling that you care for him too. Am I correct?”

Aster nodded and looked away, embarrassed that her feelings were so obvious.

“Have you told him that?” Wyll pried further.

“Not exactly…”

“Why not?” Karlach asked. “Gale may be a genius about some things, but I have a feeling he wouldn’t recognize flirting if it smacked him in the face. I wouldn’t wait for him to make the first move.”

“It’s… complicated,” Aster replied, loathe to explain her reservations, fears, and insecurities. However, looking at how eager Karlach and Wyll looked for her to continue, she supposed she would not get away with that answer. Perhaps it would do her some good to talk about all the worries that had been plaguing her.

“Well, for starters, there’s his tumultuous relationship and fallout with Mystra. It has not been long since things turned sour, and it devastated him. I worry that he is just looking for someone to… fill the void she left. And how am I meant to compare to a goddess?”

“That fucker that asked him to kill himself for her? I’d say you’ve got her beat by a mile,” Karlach replied indignantly.

Wyll gave Karlach a look before sharing his own advice. “Love is not something to be compared; each is its own unique and beautiful thing. And it is clear to me that he loves you, truly, not as a replacement, but as yourself.”

Aster smiled at her friends’ reassurances, but a deeper fear still weighed on her. “Mystra’s task for him worries me as well. I’m afraid I will not be able to convince him not to go through with it. And I’m afraid that if we – if we become something more to one another…” Her throat felt tight, making it harder to speak, and tears stung her eyes. “then it will… it will hurt even worse to lose him.”

“Oh, Aster, come here,” Karlach said with open arms, and Aster accepted the offered hug gratefully. “I know losing someone hurts. But take some advice from someone who’s living on borrowed time herself. Do you know the thing I want most for the time I have left?”

Aster shook her head.

“To not have any regrets. The best we can do is live fully, to embrace whatever opportunities life gives us.”

Wyll nodded. “As the saying goes, ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.’ Regret eats at the soul like nothing else does.”

And they were right. If she opened up to him, let herself love and be loved in return, then she would always have the memories of the time they had together, even if the worst happened. Otherwise, she would still be left to suffer the pain and loss, along with the grief for what could have been.

Aster wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you. You are the best friends anyone could ask for.” She hugged them both again.

“Aww, so are you!” Karlach replied, hugging her a little too tight in return.

“Always happy to be there for a friend,” Wyll said as he returned her embrace.

At that moment, Gale arrived at the door, jug of water in hand. “Sorry I took so long,” Gale said as he handed the jug over to Aster, who took a long, refreshing swig.

“Well, glad to see you’re feeling better. Karlach and I will go tell the others you’re awake,” Wyll said, getting up from one of the chairs beside the bed.

“Yeah, we’ll go do that,” Karlach added, following Wyll out the door. “No need to hurry though, just take our time…” She winked at Aster as she left.

Gale sat back down next to the bed. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, thank you. Those potions work wonders.”

“Good, good. Glad to hear it.”

They sat there in awkward silence for a moment before Aster worked up the nerve to tell him how she really felt and apologize for how distant she had been lately, spurred on by her conversation with Wyll and Karlach.

 “There’s… something I want to tell you,” Aster said, taking one of Gale’s hands in her own.

“I want to tell you something too, I…” the pause was so long that Aster spoke again, only then they were both talking at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” they both blurted out in unison.

“For what?” they asked, once again at the same time.

Aster chuckled, which caused the pain in her side to flare up again, and the chuckle turned into a wince.

“I’m sorry,” Gale said again, clearly referring to the laughter-induced pain this time.

“You said that already,” Aster replied with a more careful chuckle. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was distracted earlier, when we were looking for Thaniel. I fell behind the group, wasn’t paying attention… I should have been in position; maybe then you would not have been hurt like this. I’m sorry, I should have done more to keep you safe.” Gale said, clasping both hands around hers.

“There is nothing to apologize for. Things happen, especially in such perilous situations as we find ourselves in. I hear you were the one who saved me, after all,” Aster said with a coy smile. 

“Still, I am sorry – and relieved that you’re alright. Now, whatever reason do you have to apologize? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I have, though.” Aster took a deep breath, preparing herself to finally open up. “I know I have been… distant and ill-tempered as of late. I’ve been upset and angry about so many things, but that is no excuse to treat you that way, especially when you’ve been having such a difficult time of your own. I’m deeply sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize; it can’t be easy to bear the burdens that have been placed on you: defeating Ketheric, lifting the shadow curse, stopping the Absolute. But know that you can always unburden yourself with me, if you need someone to talk to.”

“You’re too kind,” Aster replied, “Yes, those do weigh on me, and it is difficult to witness the destruction the shadow curse has wrought on nature here. But there is another thing that worries me even more. Mystra… It angers me that she thinks she has any right to ask that of you, and that she could make you feel like she’s right.” Aster felt her ire toward the goddess roiling inside like fire, and her arms shook in anger. “You’re smart, and brave, and talented, and kind, and you deserve so much better than being her sacrifice.”

Gale looked surprised at her response. “I… wasn’t aware it bothered you so much.”

“Of course it does! I care about you, and I – I don’t…” Aster felt the tears pricking at her eyes again. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, brushing a hand across his cheek. She wanted to peer into his thoughts, see if he was still genuinely considering going through with it, convince him how much she needed him, but she knew that was an invasion of his privacy. She could only show him how much she cared about him and hope that that would be enough.

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Gale whispered back, leaning closer to her. “I was so worried about you.”

“Then let’s look after each other, and find another way to defeat the Absolute. We can make it through this together, alright?”

“Alright.”

A nervous, anticipatory silence stretched between them, and Aster realized their lips were mere inches apart.

Gale cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “Well, it’s getting late. I suppose I should let you rest, yes?”

Gale started to stand up, but Aster tugged him back down by his sleeve.

“Wait, I… I haven’t thanked you properly yet for rescuing me.”

“You don’t need to –” Gale started to reply, but Aster cut him off with a kiss. He was clearly surprised at first, but quickly he was kissing her back, their mouths dancing passionately with long-building desire and anticipation of this very moment.

His lips were soft, and he tasted like a fine red wine, rich with a touch of sweetness. There was an arousing electricity to the kiss, as if sparks were literally flying between them, and considering Gale’s magic, that was probably true. It was everything she had imagined and more.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Aster was delighted to see the big, goofy grin on his face, the flush in his cheeks, and his hair tousled out of place by her fingers. He looked happier than he had in a while, and for her part Aster was so elated she felt like she could fly.

“Well,” Gale said in a low, seductive whisper as he leaned in to kiss her again, “remind me to rescue you more often.”

[quizzievivicalavellan]

How to Make Me Smile

In which Gale helps Aster fall asleep after a nightmare and Aster talks in her sleep. Occurs in the Underdark after confronting Nere.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53341882/chapters/142956958

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“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

A swipe of a hand, a body flying through the air.

Screams echoed. And laughter. Nere, teeth bared in a wicked smile. Red-hot fire reflected in his eyes.

Lava spreading, engulfing everything. At the center, a gnome, crying in agony. Flesh melting, exposing blood and bone. Lips half burned away. “Help me! Help me…”

*GASP*

Aster woke with a start. Her eyes shot open, and the gruesome image of melting flesh was replaced with the familiar walls of her tent, barely visible in the gloom of the Underdark. Her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps and her heart felt as if were trying to escape her chest. As she sat there shaking in the dark, the gasps turned to sobs, and her eyes stung with unspilled tears.

The same nightmare, now three nights in a row. Each time it seemed to affect her even more than the last. After everything she’d been through recently, most would find it odd that the death of a single gnome would be what finally gave her nightmares, yet that was the truth. Honestly, despite the mind flayers, the parasites, the goblins, and every other threat and horror of her adventure so far, she had been enjoying it. Her new friends actually valued her opinions and looked to her for guidance. She’d been able to help people, and she’d felt such a rush of happiness and victory and appreciation partying into the night with the tieflings after saving them from the goblins. She felt important for the first time in her life, like a hero in the stories the caretakers at the orphanage used to read when she was a child.

She’d been a fool.

People like her, like that gnome that Nere had cast aside like she was nothing, weren’t heroes. They were pawns in the universe’s great game of lanceboard, mere sacrifices for the truly important players. And Nere, though more formidable and horrible than Aster had anticipated, was far from the most important player in the Absolute’s army. How was a nobody like her supposed to defeat such a powerful foe? It was impossible. She felt so small and weak and insignificant as she sobbed into the darkness. The gloomy, cramped interior of her tent felt as suffocating as the growing dread in her heart. Aster wrapped a blanket around herself and stepped outside, hoping a walk might soothe her mind.

It was impossible to tell night from day in the Underdark; only the quiet of the camp and her own tiredness betrayed the lateness of the hour. Aster longed for the lush flora and cool breeze of nighttime forests that had always brought her peace, but the druid had to admit that the Underdark had its own kind of natural beauty. Instead of trees and shrubs, mushrooms of all colors and shapes decorated the subterranean landscape. Many varieties glowed defiantly in the gloom, shining across the ground like a mirror of stars in the night sky.  

The mushrooms weren’t the only things glowing. Light emanated from one of the tents in the camp – Gale’s. It seemed she wasn’t the only one having difficulty sleeping. Then again, Gale was a night owl by nature and could often be found lost in a book in the wee hours of the night. The thought brought a small smile to Aster’s lips despite the heaviness of her heart.

Gale – in the short time she’d known him, she’d grown quite fond of the wizard. A blush crept into her cheeks as a memory popped into her mind. Aster had been so embarrassed when she had accidentally imagined kissing him while they had been connected by the Weave that she’d almost run away. But then, she’d felt his surprise and trepidation morph into elation “A pleasant image, to be sure.” He had imagined it before too.

And yet, save for some stolen glances, subtle touches, and flirtatious exchanges, their relationship had remained imaginary, both of them too scared to make it real. Something real could hurt, something real could be lost. Aster was too familiar with heartbreak and found it hard to let someone close enough to hurt her that way again. She cared deeply for Gale, and he seemed to care a great deal for her, but it was difficult to be certain of the truth of his feelings. Between the fallout of his disastrous relationship with Mystra, the orb, and the parasite, he might just need someone to grasp onto in the middle of the chaotic storm of his life. Would he still need her, when it was over?

Aster blinked away her troubled thoughts and found herself right outside Gale’s tent, unaware that she had even been walking toward it, drawn to that warm light like a moth to a flame. Her hand hovered over the flap of the tent. Part of her wanted nothing more than to go inside and throw her arms around him and let herself cry into his chest. For him to hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

But the other part of her made her draw her hand away from the entrance and turn back toward her own tent. The part that didn’t want him to see her so shaken and weak, eyes red and tearstains on her cheeks. She took a deep breath to try and pull herself together. She needed to be strong enough to face whatever dangers lie ahead. More than that, she needed them, and him especially, to believe that she was. With a sigh, she took the first step away from the warm glow of Gale’s tent.

****

Gale couldn’t sleep. This was far from unusual for him, but it was frustrating, nevertheless. Although his body felt tired, the minute his head hit the pillow his mind started racing with the couple of dozen things he ought to be worried about at the moment, and several dozen others he likely had no need to worry about, though every day it was getting increasingly difficult to tell the difference.

To give his overactive mind something else to mull over, Gale cracked open one of the newer tomes he had found on his adventure, Fringe Philosophy, Vol. 5. by Taura Brinn, who had some fascinatingly radical opinions on the study of more forbidden magics. As he reached a chapter on implications of Netherese magic study for the understanding of the nature of the Weave, he heard a noise outside the tent.

It was probably just the baby owlbear their troupe had somehow ended up adopting. Owlbears were nocturnal creatures by nature, and the little scamp could often be heard getting into trouble at night. Still, he supposed he ought to make sure the noise wasn’t something dangerous. Well, more dangerous, anyway. Gale was not entirely convinced that the owlbear wouldn’t grow up and decide to attack them all, but Aster did have a way with animals, and he could hardly protest after seeing her smile when it showed up at their camp for the first time.

He put the book aside, leaving it open on the blanket to keep his spot, and walked quietly to the entrance of the tent. He carefully pulled away the flaps and peered out into the dark camp, gently lit by the glow of hundreds of mushrooms. He looked down and saw a familiar head of red curls start moving away from the tent.

“Aster, is something wrong?” he whispered, stepping outside the tent. She flinched in surprise and stopped walking but didn’t turn around.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to bother you,” she whispered back, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

“Nonsense, you are never a bother.” He pulled back the flap of the tent with one hand and gestured toward the entrance with the other. “Would you like to come in?”

Finally, she turned around. Their eyes met for a moment before she looked away, turning her face as if trying to hide it behind the thick curtain of her hair. It was obvious from her red, puffy eyes that she had been crying. Gale realized then that this was the first time he had seen her cry, and his heart ached at the sight. He had a sudden urge to hug her, but he didn’t want to overstep and make her uncomfortable, so instead he kept holding open the tent until she stepped inside.

She sat down cross-legged on one of the blankets strewn across the floor and he sat down next to her on top of his bedroll. They sat there for what felt like a long time in uncomfortable silence. Finally, unable to bear the quiet any longer, Gale started to ask “Do you want to talk about –“ but Aster interrupted him before he could finish the question.

“What are you reading?” she asked, pointing to the open book on the ground next to him. While the deflection tactic was obvious, Gale let her get away with it.

“Fringe Philosophy, Vol. 5. The author makes some fascinating points on the potential costs, benefits, and implications of the study of Netherese magic. It is rather technical and verbose; I doubt it would interest you.”

“That sounds perfect.” She paused for a moment before speaking again. “Would you… read it to me?” she asked shyly.

 “Umm, yes I… sure, I can do that,” Gale stammered out, taken aback by the request. Without another word Aster rolled up her blanket into a makeshift pillow, set it down next to his bedroll, and laid down on her back. Gale followed her lead and laid down beside her. He picked up the book again in one hand, resting the base of it against his chest, and began to read aloud in hushed voice just slightly above a whisper. “Consider, if you will, what an understanding the formation and structure of the Karsite Weave might reveal about the metaphysical essence of…” As he read, the sound of her breathing slowed and deepened.  

After several pages, he felt a weight press against his side. He looked down to see Aster’s head resting on his shoulder, her arm draped across the left side of his chest. The book almost slipped from his hand, but he caught it and set it down gently before it could fall and wake her up. Her hand brushed unconsciously down his chest, and both his heart and the orb pulsed rapidly beneath her touch. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t pictured it before, lying next to her, her hands on his skin, kisses hot and breathless...

He took a deep breath to calm himself. The orb thrummed dangerously at the rush of emotion and desire, a reminder of why he had not acted on his feelings for her. Well, part of the reason, anyway. The other major factor was his lingering doubt that she actually felt that way about him. Sure, he had seen that imagined kiss through their connection in the Weave, but she had seemed embarrassed and perhaps it was just a passing fantasy brought on by the warm embrace of the Weave. Many of their conversations after had seemed flirtatious, but Gale was sorely out of practice at detecting that sort of thing and had not been particularly gifted at it to begin with.

That was all true, but the biggest source of doubt was thus: what could she possibly see in him? He was a disgrace, a failure, a mere shell of his former self with but a fraction of the power he once wielded. Once, great feats of magic had come to him as naturally as breathing, and now even the simplest spells sometimes proved challenging. The great archmage Gale of Waterdeep, reduced to the ability of a novice by his own recklessness. He would do anything for her, give her everything he could, but he knew he had little to offer. She would realize that, sooner or later, and then she’d have no more use for him. He couldn’t go through that, not again…

“Mmhmm, Gale,” Aster murmured, bringing Gale back to the present.

“Yes?” Gale whispered, looking down at her head resting on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to still be asleep.

“Gale, you’re… sosweet,” she said, sleep slurring her words together. “Youalways… knowhowto… make me smile.”

And she was smiling. All the worry and sadness that had been weighing on her when she was standing outside his tent were gone from her peacefully sleeping face. It was as if she had read his mind, had heard his doubts and answered them. Yes, that was something he could do. He could try to be a source of comfort, a laugh, and a smile in these uncertain times, make her burdens a little bit lighter. It might not be much, but it was something.

“Scraaaaatch,” Aster whined in her sleep, her dream clearly having changed subject. “Wyll’s boots arenotforeating!... Good boy,” Aster mumbled, petting Gale’s chest as if he were the camp dog. Gale stifled a laugh, trying not to wake her.

“Goodnight, Aster,” he whispered, tucking a stray curl of red hair behind her ear. He closed his eyes as sleep finally washed over him, the two of them lying there together, both smiling as they dreamed.

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Something More

In which a secret is revealed, and Gale and Aster get to know each other better. This scene occurs before the Weave scene in this fic.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53341882/chapters/138776932

*************************

“Here. Place your hand over my heart. Let me show you.”

Gale knelt down in front of the gnome druid so she could reach his heart, his hand outstretched toward her. Aster gently placed her hand over the circular mark on his chest. He clasped his hands over hers and she felt her tadpole squirming, connecting with Gale’s as he let her into his mind, into his memories, into the dark. She saw a book fly open and a swirling mass of blackest weave pounced toward her. Its unending black void pulled at her, deeper and deeper into the darkness, and left her feeling an emptiness, a hunger, like nothing she had ever felt. It gnawed at her insides with teeth like daggers, twisting, lurching, craving. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her heart thundered louder than a war drum. Instinctively, she pulled her hand away and tried to close her mind to the insatiable hunger.

“How are you still alive?” she asked, a mixture of horror and pity in her voice.

“Thankfully the moment I absorbed the fragment wasn’t enough to kill me outright. It was only the beginning.” Gale got back up on his feet, “As long as I absorb traces of the Weave from powerful enough sources, it remains quiet. Were it to fully destabilize however… I will erupt. Even the small fragment I carry would be enough to level a city the size of Waterdeep.”

Aster inhaled sharply, trying to process the news and its implications. What if they don’t find more magical artifacts in time? What if she had held on to the artifacts she had found already, not satisfied with the lack of answers? It made her sick to think she could have doomed him, and everyone else, by accident. “You should have told me sooner.”  

“I know. All of this… it must feel like a betrayal. Say the word, and we’ll part ways.” He looked away, as if afraid to hear her answer. He was genuinely worried that she would tell him to leave, just like that. Aster’s hurt that he hadn’t confided in her earlier melted away.

“Of course not. We’re in this together.” Aster patted him softly on the arm, a bit of an awkward gesture given her short stature.

“That is – a great relief. Oh, a great relief indeed!”

“Besides, everyone here has something dangerous inside of them now,” Aster replied with a smirk, twirling her finger beside her temple in reference to the unwelcome passenger in her brain. “It would be hypocritical of me to turn you away, no?”

“True enough. Who knows which clock ticking down to my doom will run out first? Hmm, explode or turn into a mind flayer…? Now that is a question I never thought would move beyond the realm of the hypothetical,” he said, his features forming a humorously exaggerated expression of deep thought.

“Let’s hope neither is still on the table,” Aster chuckled. Gale always had a way of making her laugh, despite the bleakness of their circumstances. Her face fell as her mind returned to Gale’s own dire circumstances. Gods, he must be suffering so much, and yet he was always ready with a joke and smile. At least she had managed to procure a decent number of artifacts so far, and now she was committed to redoubling her efforts to find more.

“In all seriousness, though, please tell me right away whenever you are in need of an artifact. When we were connected, I felt how painful the orb’s hunger can be.”

Gale smiled and placed his hand on Aster’s shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for your generosity, for being willing to aid me without questioning, and now for your continued kindness, knowing what I’ve done.”

“Oh, it was a reckless and ill-advised thing to do, certainly,” Aster replied, shaking her head with teasing judgement, “but I think I understand why you did. I can understand the desire to be… more than yourself, to know and experience the world in wholly new ways.”

“Yes! To know the totality of the Weave, everything that magic has to offer. To think what I could have been able to learn, the magic I might have wielded, it would have been wonderous…” He looks off sadly to the horizon, swept away in thoughts of what might have been. “Alas, Mystra did not find me fit to understand the whole of her domain, and, given my folly, I can’t say I blame her,” he sighed. He turned his gaze back to Aster, one eyebrow raised questioningly “But what did you mean by ‘more than yourself?’”

A small puff of air escaped Aster’s nostrils, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Back when I was a child living in Baldur’s Gate, I was the only gnome at the orphanage. The-”

“Wait, the orphanage?” Gale interjected, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know… what happened to your parents, if you don’t mind my asking?” Aster looked away, not able to keep looking into his sad brown eyes. It was sweet how much he cared, but Aster didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. 

“It’s alright,” Aster said with a dismissive wave of her hand, though there was a clear sadness in her eyes. “I never knew them, so it’s not like I can miss them, really.”

She had hoped she might assuage some of his pity, but the concerned furrow of his brow only deepened.  “That’s almost even worse. You never had someone to read you a bedtime story, or to make you a home-cooked meal. Tell you what, if by some chance we make it out of this mess and you ever find yourself in Waterdeep, come over to my mother’s house and she’ll make you a meal you won’t soon forget.”

“That sounds lovely.” Aster replied, amused and slightly embarrassed at the unintended romantic implications of being invited to meet Gale’s mother.

“She’s the one who taught me how to cook, though I would caution you not to judge the quality of her cooking by whatever I manage to whip up from our rather limited variety of ingredients. There is only so much even the most talented of chefs can do with only apples, potatoes, and salami.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for ingredients on our travels. Perhaps I can scrounge up a carrot or two,” Aster said with a playful smirk, earning her a delightfully withering look from Gale. “But anyway, as I was saying…”

“My apologies for the interruption,” Gale said, raising his hands apologetically. “You know my mouth has a tendency to run away from me at times. Please, continue.”

“The other children at the orphanage, they looked down on me, in both meanings of the phrase. Even compared to them I was tiny and weak, and they saw me as someone to push around or as some cute little pet for their entertainment,” Aster said with a scowl, recalling the times other children had pushed her down and stolen her day’s meal, or subjected her to their cruel pranks, or had wanted to see the silly little gnome dance and sing as they laughed at her.

“When the druids took me in after I ran away from the city, they opened up a new world to me. I started to study their magic, particularly how to wild shape. It was invigorating and empowering to shed my gnomish form and become something new. A raven, able to soar across the sky, or a large and powerful bear, or a wolf, running free through the night forest, the world ablaze with smells. As a druid, I finally had power and purpose. That’s what I meant by the allure of becoming more than you are.”

Gale nodded, considering her response for a moment before speaking. “While it is certainly impressive to watch you transform into a bear and eviscerate some gnolls, you’re impressive as you are, too, you know. You brought us all together, defeated goblins, hags, harpies, you name it, and rescued… how many people now? You uncovered Kagha’s plot and convinced her to stop the ritual and see the error in her ways. You know what they say, great things come in small packages.” As he spoke the last sentence, he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

Aster looked away toward the ground with a flush in her cheeks and a small smile on her lips, her hands clasped shyly behind her back. He was so sweet, and she wished desperately that his kind words came from feelings as strong as her own, but she was sure he was simply trying to cheer up a friend. The few people she had ever held similar feelings for had never returned them, and she had little reason to think things would change now. “Thank you. But you are, um… all of you, are so strong, after everything you’ve been through, and so capable and brave. I couldn’t have done any of it without you.”

“Oh, I think you could have,” Gale contradicts, raising an index finger to emphasize his point, “but I am glad to have been of some help, nonetheless. Had to give you some reason to keep me around besides my sharp wit and magical proficiency.”

“I’m happy you’re here, for all sorts of reasons. While I would have preferred we had not been abducted by mind flayers, I am glad to have had the chance to meet you.” Aster needed him to know that she enjoyed his company, though perhaps not just how much she enjoyed it.

“And I am glad to have met you as well,” Gale said with a smile, looking down into Aster’s emerald green eyes. The two stood looking at each other for a moment in awkward silence before both turning away, a flush of embarrassment returning to Aster’s cheeks.

“So, ahem,” Gale started, clearing his throat. Aster noticed his cheeks looked a bit pink as well, though perhaps it was just a trick of the light from the setting sun. “I suppose it is time for some dinner. Ready for some delicious apple-potato-salami stew?” he said, nudging Aster playfully with his elbow.

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Aster replied with sarcastic enthusiasm. They walked over at sat down beside the fire pit. Gale hung the cooking pot over the fire and started adding ingredients for the evening’s meal. Aster took advantage of his distraction to observe the handsome wizard in the glow of the fire. The orange light made his dark eyes glow with warmth, and it danced across the grey streaks in his hair as he carefully stirred the stew, occasionally tasting it and throwing in more spices.

“Enjoying the view?” purred Astarion, appearing behind Aster with a smirk. Aster startled at his surprise entrance, then turned to glare at him with a look that she hoped screamed “Shut up!”

Luckily, Gale seemed not to have noticed, “Ah, Astarion, dinner is just about finished. Well, our dinner, anyway. Sorry to say I did not add any blood to this evening’s meal.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I could just snack on you,” Astarion replied and licked his lips, clearly amused by the annoyed look on Gale’s face.

The others started approaching the fire as well, drawn over by the wafting smell of the stew. Aster was sorry her moment alone with Gale was over, but she was also happy for the company of her traveling companions, her new friends, despite their short time together. Her friends made this whole horrible experience not just bearable, but on occasion actually fun. Especially one friend in particular. And maybe, one day, she and Gale might just be something more.

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Only Natural

In which Gale’s attempt to come clean is interrupted by a bath, and Gale is not cut out to be a druid. Pre-Weave scene.

AO3 Link: More Than Magic - Chapter 1 - InquisitorLavellan - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

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“Aster?” Gale called into the trees as he walked away from camp. It was rare to be able to catch one of their band of misfit, reluctant adventurers alone, so Gale was eager to seize the opportunity while the druid was away from camp for a moment.

Well, somewhat eager, somewhat terrified. Part of him hoped he would fail to find her and have an excuse to hold on to his horrible secret just a while longer. His anxiety caused the orb lodged in his chest to thrum, as if that secret were mocking him. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath, gathering his resolve. Even if she turned him away, even if she could never look at him the same way again, she deserved to know. She was the kindest, most generous person he had ever met, going out of her way to help anyone in need despite the imminent danger of ceremorphosis lurking in their skulls. She had given him so much, quite literally saved his life many times over, without question or hesitation, and the very least he owed her was the truth.

As he passed through a thick patch of trees, he emerged to find a small, secluded lake. The clear, still water reflected the vibrant hues of the sky painted by the setting sun. Rocks were scattered across the muddy shoreline, and leaning against one Gale spotted a familiar staff with a neatly folded leather coat beside it. She must be somewhere nearby, likely enjoying the picturesque display of nature’s beauty stretched out before him. He took a second to appreciate it himself before calling out again.

“Aster? I was hoping to talk to you about something, if you have a moment.” His eyes scanned the lake again, still not spotting the druid. As a gnome, her small stature did make it easier to hide, though her striking red hair somewhat negated that stealth advantage. Still, she might not currently be gnome-shaped at all, and if she were one of the many birds and squirrels visible along the lakeshore, he would hardly be able to tell.

He saw something emerging from the lake, which quickly revealed itself to be the top of Aster’s head. As she walked closer to the shoreline, the tips of her pointed ears broke the surface of the water, with the rest of her head and shoulders following quickly behind. Her wet brown skin glistened in the sunlight, freckles smattered across it like stars in the night sky.

“Of course. What do want to talk about?” she asked as she continued toward the shore. She grasped her auburn curls between her hands to wring the water out. It fell from her hair and cascaded over her shoulders like a miniature waterfall, droplets of water leaving curving trails over her ample breasts.

Hold on a moment. Her breasts. Gods, she was completely naked.

Gale felt his face grow hot as blood rushed to his cheeks and, well, . . . elsewhere. The orb in his chest began a familiar thrum as it always did when he experienced a strong emotion or physiological response. He closed his eyes and raised his arm in front of them, half making a show out of not looking and half attempting to obscure his flushed cheeks from view.

“Ahem,” he started, clearing his throat, “my apologies if I caught you by surprise, but you are aware that you’re not wearing any clothes, aren’t you?”

“One generally doesn’t when bathing,” she replied, and he can practically hear a smug smile in the tone of her voice. Alright, not the response he was expecting. It seemed he was the only one to have been caught unawares.

“Fair point,” he responded with a slight nod, arm still covering his eyes, “though I would counter that one generally does whilst having a conversation.” 

She laughed, “I forget how . . . weird non-druids can be about nudity. Clothes have their uses, sure, but there is nothing strange or shameful about our naked bodies; they’re only natural.”

He had heard druids had a more casual outlook on such things but had never been confronted with that philosophy head-on. Gale couldn’t imagine being so blasé about seeing someone naked. Especially her. The image of her emerging from the lake, all soft curves and sun-kissed flesh, popped into his head again and threatened to reignite the fire in his body that had only just started to subside. He prayed she would dress quickly so he could open his eyes again and stop his mind’s eye from running wild in the dark.

“Well, some of us are not prepared to embrace your free-spirited druid ways just yet.” There was an awkward pause as he waited for some signal that she had finished getting dressed. Surely it couldn’t take this long. Perhaps she simply enjoyed watching him squirm.

Mercifully, she spoke. “You can stop covering your eyes now.”

He opened his eyes to see a now fully dressed Aster, leaning her shoulders forward slightly as her hands rested on tilted hips. “So,” Aster said with a smile and a quick raise of her brows, “did you enjoy the view?”

Gale froze like a cornered animal, sensing the trap closing in. What response was she looking for? If he answered honestly that he had, would she think him a leering creep? If he lied or refused to answer, would she be insulted? Did she want him to find her attractive? He doubted she shared feelings similar to those he was developing toward her, but that didn’t mean she would not appreciate a compliment.

The right corner of her mouth lifted even higher into a devious smirk and there was a playful twinkle in her eyes, as if she could see the thoughts warring inside his head. Oh, she definitely enjoyed watching him squirm.

“As I am sure you are aware, you are a most attractive woman, though also rest assured that I was not attempting to spy on you,” Gale replied, finally settling on a carefully measured response that would hopefully not offend regardless of the answer she sought.

“Gale!” Aster replied with a tone of sarcastic shock, “I was talking about the lake! Doesn’t it look beautiful at sunset?” She tutted and shook her head in mock disapproval, “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”

Gale rolled his eyes and breathed out sharply through his nose. “Tease me if you wish, but you and I both know you were not talking about the lake.”

She laughed. “Speaking of talking, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Ah, right, he had come here for a reason that was not to thoroughly embarrass himself. However, now hardly felt like the time to discuss such serious matters. The right moment would come, and Gale prayed, to whom he wasn’t certain anymore, that the truth of his condition would not ruin everything.

“You know,” Gale lied, shaking his head, “I completely forgot.”

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Wanted to draw some of my faves from The Owl House. Eagerly awaiting the second part of Season 2! 

[quizzievivicalavellan]

My favorite ship that I did not see coming from She-Ra’s 5th season. Finally, a wholesome relationship for my fave Scorpia, who deserves the best. 

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Finished She-Ra Season 3 and finally finished my She-Ra Best Friend Squad!

[quizzievivicalavellan]

So Antman and the Wasp left with a lot of feels about the Pym/Van Dyne/Lang family and I just want them all to be fine and happy and essentially not the mid-credits scene, so here they are at Hank and Janet’s beach house.