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shannaraisles · 11 months

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Unravelled - for @memaidraws

A commission for the fabulous @memaidraws, who has been an absolute star through the whole process - thank you, lovely!

Unravelled

Four cast pots, two iron pans, the campfire expanded to accommodate not only the broiling and boiling but also the baking and warming of various ingredients before they came together into a meal fit for kings.

Kings of the road, perhaps, but still kings for one night. Kings every night, when it was Gale of Waterdeep’s turn to cook. A man of dedicated taste and refined palate, he scoured each market and store they came across in search of new spices and flavourings, or to restock his supplies of those they already had. Rae was no slouch when it came to cooking himself, but he had to admit, Gale took it to an entirely different level. The others might complain about how long dinner took to make when the wizard was in charge of it, but there were never complaints about the quality when it finally arrived.

It was a fascinating process to watch, too; the meat carefully dressed and trimmed, seared to perfection before it was wrapped in sturdy, flavoursome leaves and tucked into the warm embers at the far edge of the flames to bake slowly as sauces and vegetables were prepared with diligent care and attention to detail to some rhythm only Gale knew. And there was rhythm to it; a musical quality to each spoon swirled through some sticky soft mixture, or fork speared into the flesh of a tuber or brace of greens, testing their readiness with expert knowledge.

But Rae wasn’t watching purely to enjoy the aesthetic of Gale’s form as he cooked, oh no. Gale of Waterdeep had spent long years in a tower with only a tressym for company, and he had picked up a habit in her presence that he had never quite lost in her absence. Gale talked to himself as he cooked, and the subject of tonight’s curious ramblings was none other than their not-so-glorious leader, Rae himself.

“If this were my tower, I could at the very least send out for pheasant or squid,” the wizard was muttering as Rae approached from behind. “Alas, a decent cut of beef and basic herbs shall have to do. But when we reach Baldur’s Gate, things will be different.”

His fingers flickered through a complicated sigil in mid-air, and a clutch of fresh rosemary appeared in his grasp, apparently freshly picked through the Weave from someone’s garden. Rae bit down a smile, hoping that garden was far enough away that no one would tie a mystery herb thief to the strange group that had just passed through their little town. Gale ripped the leaves from the woody stalks, crushing each just a little between his fingers before sprinkling his bounty into the pot before him.

“Baldur’s Gate will have everything I need,” the man continued, seemingly talking to mid-air. Rae couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually talking to Tara through the Weave somehow; anything was possible with Gale. “Perhaps I should forgo preparing the meal myself? It would make the evening seem more special, more deliberate. We could visit the Elfsong Tavern, though it is a very common sort of place. Perhaps one of the restaurants in the Wide ... The Heroes’ Feast, perhaps. It does have an excellent reputation, and Rae has expressed an interest in the heroes of the Bhaalspawn War. An evening of conversation with the grandchildren of Gorion’s ward might be just the ticket. And the food, I am told is excellent.”

Rae’s brows rose; Gale was making plans for time they could spend together, just the two of them? And worrying, as he did over everything, about what would make it perfect. It was somehow both infuriating and endearing that Gale seemed to have no idea that just his presence was enough to make an evening perfect.

”But he seems to enjoy my labours in this area; it would be a travesty if the food were below par,” Gale went on, lifting a spoon to taste some mysterious concoction that somehow managed to sparkle briefly in the flicker of magic at his fingertips. “If their tales are of good enough quality, they could be invited to the tower as company - entertainment for the evening, perhaps. But if we are to go that far to seek entertainment for one evening, then would it not be better to take him to experience the theatre?”

There was a pause, no doubt for the expected response from Tara who was not present and therefore had nothing to say. But Gale still seemed to get a response of some sort, whether from the real tressym at some distance or from the imagined version of her in his mind’s eye, for he nodded sagely as though in answer to some comment, stepping to one side to flip the bread frying in a pan to the other side before adding it to the stack of already perfectly created flatbreads resting on a plate close by.

“No, of course, the theatre is far too mundane,” he mused. “He has no doubt seen every production worth seeing already, and would know the quality of the players in the Gate far better than I. But in Waterdeep, we could take him - I could take him to The Yawning Portal; adventurers a-plenty there to whet his appetite for tales, and Durnan can be trusted to provide a more sheltered seat in one of the upper galleries in case the Undermountain decides to send a visitor to the main floor. It is a rather rowdy place, though, and quiet does seem to suit him better than raucous distraction ...”

He lapsed into silence for a long moment, unaware that the object of his eager affections was so close and so aware of every word he said. Rae felt his heart swell with each word; how had he not noticed how very much Gale wanted to impress and delight him? Had he been too acutely aware of his own uncertainties and perceived shortcomings that he had missed this adorable fumbling toward some grand gesture that might please? He couldn’t help but be grateful for the unspoken agreement among the entire party that anything Gale said while cooking was to be ignored and never spoken of again. Some things were too personal to tease about.

“I have it!”

Gale snapped his fingers, the sudden sound startling Rae almost into revealing himself as the Wizard of Waterdeep beamed at no one across the fire in front of him.

“We shall dine in my tower, but it shall be cloaked in the Weave, and wherever his fancy takes him, that shall be our entertainment,” he declared to no one in particular. “Exhausting for myself, of course, but nothing is too great a stretch for my love.” He sighed, seeming to sag for a moment, his voice softening with impossible desire. “I would give him the world, if I but had it within my grasp.”

Rae smiled, his heart somehow both melting and hammering in his chest at the tenderness in his lover’s voice. This was enough torture for one night, surely?

“I would rather a lifetime of ordinary evenings at your side, than watch you destroy yourself in the search for one perfect night.”

Gale straightened hurriedly, his head turning with affected nonchalance at the sound of his lover’s gentle approach.

“Ah.” He offered up a sheepish smile. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to forget you heard all that, could I?”

Rae’s smile flickered, somehow awkwardly shy yet brimming with unexpected confidence, fingertips ghosting down along Gale’s spine as the other hand reached for the package of baking beef. It was ... rather wonderful, to know he was not the only one in this relationship still feeling his way toward certainty.

“I would rather forget how to touch the Weave than forget how much you love me,” he said, feeling his cheeks warm with how bold his words seemed, dropping his gaze to the food. “Any night with you is the perfect night, because I am with you. That is all that matters, Gale, truly.”

Gale sighed through a soft smile, unconsciously leaning into Rae’s side as they stood close together beside the busy campfire. His head lowered just enough to rest, temple to temple, against Rae’s, the two of them cloaked in a stillness of their own affectionate making amid the quiet bustle of their party’s evening camp.

“I would give you nothing but perfection, if it were mine to give,” Gale murmured, twisting a little to brush his knuckles against Rae’s smooth cheek.

“I don’t need perfection, love,” Rae whispered, daring to raise his eyes to meet the tenderly adoring gaze levelled upon him. “I have you.”

“That you do.”

The brush of knuckles turned, Gale’s gentle palm curling to Rae’s cheek to draw him close. Lips covered lips, softness flavoured with the delicate prickle of hair that somehow heightened the experience, sweet and sinful and oh, so wonderful. For just one moment, even the Weave could have unravelled and everything would still have been perfect.

“Oh, blast it all, I forgot the spice,” Gale suddenly declared, pulling from the kiss in a distracted huff at his own sense of failure.

Rae bit down a laugh at the abrupt end to what could have been a perfect moment for a lot longer, and reached for the little pot that was currently the focus of his lover’s ire.

“Show me what to do with it?” he suggested, tilting his head with curious interest.

Gale looked at him, his eyes flickering from the little spice pot in one hand to the sweet softness of the lips he had just abandoned, to the warm interest in the eyes that held him in thrall. His own lips curved in an unthinking smile, unable to resist the siren’s call of the man who had captured his heart so thoroughly without even seeming to try.

“Come here,” he said, gathering Rae into his side to draw him to the appropriate pot. “You need just a pinch, in this one ...” And here and now, as they talked and touched and learned each other in ways more binding than simple lust-fueled intimacy, among friends in the wilderness between their respective worlds where each thread did not need to be woven to become a fabric of infinite possibility ... this was perfect.

#niamh writes #commission fic #memaidraws #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #oc - rae #gale x oc #campfire moments #fluff #affection #newly established relationship #date night ideas

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