#have a tadpole mr Dekarios

[championsandheroes]

If anything, Gale is a lesson in why going outside is a bad idea and socially isolating is actually good for you. At least you won't get kidnapped by mind flayers and tadpoled if you never leave your house.

You are safe from being kidnapped by mind flayers on your visit to Patreon, society6, and redbubble. No guarantees can be offered elsewhere.

[ranger-crisis]

Heartbreaking: person you like doesn’t like Gale Dekarios because he’s “annoying” and “doesn’t have as ‘traumatic’ or interesting of a story” and “doesn’t have that much bearing on the story” (cough cough that damn vampire too, but sure Gale has “nothing” going on.) oh you don’t like Lae’zel? Who could’ve guessed that…?

Also I don’t think 90% of people know what infodumping actually is. And besides anytime I hear it y’all just sound like dicks. “He’s infodumping” go make actual friends that don’t shop on shien and call literally anything tmi. I’m putting “infodumping” on the shelf until you learn how to enjoy a game that isn’t all killing things or action 24/7.

[bitchysouljellyfish]

Reassurance

Monk Tav is doubting herself. Good thing Tara is there to set her straight.

Border by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Strange how life works.

One day, you're out on a mission for your temple, quarterstaff resting comfortably in your hand as you trek through the streets of Baldur’s Gate looking for an inn to rest your head for the night before setting off bright and early in search of new and bright eyed recruits to send to the Order of the Yellow Rose to begin their training.

And then you’re abducted by a mindflayer ship, have a tadpole inserted into your skull, escape said nautiloid by crashing it, meet the craziest bunch of strangers you'd ever meet in your life, fight countless monsters, fall in love with the man you pulled out of a stone, subsequently save the world and now you're in Waterdeep, resting comfortably on a chaise in front of a roasting fire as the beginnings of winter makes its way through the Sword Coast with a tressym relaxing while you both wait for your fiancé to come back from shopping.

It is very strange how life works.

Tav never would've expected this was how her life would've turned out. She expected to spend the rest of her days in service to the temple, becoming a Grand Master and then training the next warriors of the Era before dying of whatever the gods deemed fit for her. But now? Now she was envisioning a future far from violence and grueling training, replaced with wedding bells, a dress her future mother in law wanted to help her find, and even considering tiny feet with even tinier tails and little nubs for horns.

That was in a not so distant future, however. First, Tav would have to deal with present problems. Mainly gaining the favor of the tressym before her and getting out of her own head.

Tara was like a second mother in law. Don’t mistake her, Tav adored the tressym and she was fairly certain she liked her as well, but there wasn’t much the two had in common. Tav wanted to know everything about Gale's life, and the ones most important to him, but having small talk?

She’d rather spend 12 hours in the Hashi with the grandmasters. It was awkward and so mind numbingly boring! There had to be a better way to get to know Tara better, and by extension, Morena. Nobody wants a daughter in law they know nothing about. Thankfully, sitting by the balcony with a book on her lap about the latest experiments of the thunder wave spell and its effects on the body, she finally had her chance.

Gale was out, getting… something he wouldn’t tell her, but Tara had stayed behind, napping and cozily roasting her feet by the fire to combat the first chills of Waterdeep until a flurry of wings interrupted her sleep. Almost immediately Tara perked up and got into position to pounce on the unsuspecting pigeon. Her wings positioned tight against her body while her rear end wiggled.

Tav had to cover her mouth to stifle the giggles as her own tail flicked back and forth with glee against the couch. That caught Tara’s attention as well, unfortunately, the wide open pupils narrowed into tiny slits again.

“Oh, please forgive me Tara. I don’t mean to laugh,” she says, curling her tail around her feet. “Its just- I love the look on your face when you get so determined like that.”

“Not to worry, Tav.” Tara left the pigeon alone and hopped onto the arm of the chair she was sitting on. “You probably got me at just the right time. I did promise Mr. Dekarios to leave some of the pigeon population alone, but he said nothing about watching the little devils.”

“Gale was probably just worried about any messages being lost.” She says and sets the book to the side. “Are you hungry, Tara? I could cook something for you! Despite what Gale and the others have said about my cooking, I have perfected some dishes.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, my dear.” A tiny paw pats the back of her hand, almost motherly. “Not hungry, just a bit bored I’m afraid. Mr. Dekarios said he would bring something back for the both of us and now it has me sitting on pins and needles.” Tara’s ears perked up before laying flat against her head. “Oh dear, I’ve said too much.”

“No, No, Its ok!” It was nice to hear Gale was planning something. “I promise, I won’t tell a soul you said something, but if you’re bored why don’t we do something together? We could play lanceboard, or um let’s see…”

A soft chuckle came from the winged feline before her, stretching herself out as she climbed onto Tav’s lap. “why are you so nervous my dear? It is just old Tara, we’re all part of the same family. Or will be once you and Mr. Dekarios settle on a wedding date.”

Tav sighed and leaned back against the cushions, hovering her hand over Tara’s soft fur before being granted permission to pet. “but you aren’t just Tara. You’re Gale’s oldest and most dearest friend, practically a second mother to him. I’m just- forgive me it’s silly of me.”

“Its not silly if it’s causing you this much turmoil. Come now,” she hopped off her lap and pulled at Tav’s tail with a quickly conjured Mage Hand-well Paw- to lead her. “Come have some tea. I know Gale bought some of that delicious jasmine tea just for you that I myself have been dying to try.”

Tav fumbled with her fingers as she followed the tressym, feeling more and more like a bumbling fool than a respected monk of the Order of the Yellow Rose. She could beat down goblins, minotaurs, mindlfayers, hell she defeated the Elder Brain and lived to tell the tale!

But Gale wasn’t a problem she could just train and fight away. He wasn’t a problem at all, mind you, but he meant everything to her. Her first true love, the man she saved the world with and the one who encouraged her every step of the way and looked at her with such love she had no idea what to do with it. Tav wanted to make sure she was just as good as he thought she was, the person that he told his family about. Tav wasn’t sure if she could handle them being disappointed in who she really was.

She felt so weak for being like this, but at the same time hated doubting her feelings. For all the good the monks did for her, regulating emotions was not one of the skills taught. Gale had been blissfully patient, waiting while she literally punched her feelings out and comforted her with bandages around her knuckles and a healing potion to amend the damages she’d done to herself.

Gale made her feel like a teenager with their first crush, fumbling over themselves trying to get the feelings out while Gale just… did it. He did it with such ease it made the monk jealous and made her cheeks frightfully warm while all she could do was silence his praises with a kiss that hopefully took his breath away. It was rather ridiculous , as they were to be married some time soon.

Tara showed her where Gale had kept the tea and waited patiently while it brewed, loafing on the table.

“Now, tell Tara what's on your mind. I can guarantee that this conversation stays just between the two of us. “

Tav smiled and poured them each a cup. “Thank you for this. I just…” She chewed on her lip. “I cant help but feel out of my element. Domesticity, peace, tranquility. The monks spoke about it all the time, but it's so different than actually living it. I'm not complaining, don’t misunderstand me, Waterdeep is amazing and I love Gale with my entire being, but…”

“You feel as if you're waiting for the ball to drop.” Tara finished for her. “so to speak?”

Tav sighed and drummed her nails against the tea cup. “Yes. I feel as if Gale will one day realize he wants a real wife, one who can cook without burning a dish, who had a normal upbringing, one who doesn't… doesn't have nightmares about battles long past and can go out for a walk without constantly looking over her shoulder. I’m afraid I’ll be alone again, and I'm not sure I can handle that heart break.”

Tara ignored her cup of tea and trotted over to her side. “My dear, if you think that Gale would ever do such a thing I'm afraid you don't know him at all.”

“Huh?”

Tara put a paw on her hand, “You truly haven't seen the way that man looks at you when you don't notice or what he has done to make you comfortable here. And I don't mean that to sound cruel, I'm sure Gale hid it from you on purpose. Look over there, under the spice rack. That is a cookbook filled with recipes for warriors to keep their energy and maintain their physique. In his desk, he has a book on learning Infernal because he knows you mutter to yourself as you plan your next training session, and he wants to speak to you in your mother tongue. My, when we were out shopping the other day, he stopped a tiefling couple to ask about tail language so he could better understand your emotions.”

As Tara continued, Tav’s face kept getting warmer, her tail beat against the floor with her growing joy and her heart beat ever faster. How had she not noticed any of this? She prides herself on her perception, but all of this slipped past her detection?

“That isn't to say you don't put in the same effort. I've seen the way you clean up his potions, reading your own books on magic and the Weave to understand his passion better. I've also seen the look of complete and utter joy you have on your face when he goes on about his lectures. You don't patronize him, you don't roll your eyes, you pay attention as if you were one of his students. Yes, you two met and went through incredible circumstances, but that means you two have seen each other at your worst and still live each other with everything you have. My dear, Mrs. Dekarios absolutely adores you because you make him so happy! Believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about.”

Tara gasped when two hands went under her front limbs and she was brought into a tight hug with the subtle dampness that was beginning to grow on her fur. She nudged her head against Tav’s chin to comfort her. “Oh no, did I say something wrong? It wasn’t my intention to-“

“No, you said everything right.” Tav sniffed to try and avoid getting about and tears in her fur. “I cant believe- I didn't realize, but thank you, Tara, for everything.” The tiefling set her back down gently, wiping her face as she did. “I… I love him so much, so much so that I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much. And to have that confirmation makes it all the sweeter. You’re a wonderful friend Tara, and I’m so thankful to be apart of your family.”

Tara rubbed against her face and purred loudly. “I feel the same, Tav. You saved my little love, and I will be forever grateful to you.”

“I’m home!” Gale’s voice echoed through the tower, unintentionally interrupting the tender moment.

Tav didn’t waste any time, pressing a gentle kiss to Tara’s forehead before rushing down the steps to welcome her love home. Tara stayed at the table and started drinking her tea, her purrs getting louder as she heard the subtle noises of a smothering of kisses and gentle admonishes from her family.

“My love, I’m happy to see you too- dearest I’m holding gifts-give me a mome-“

A crash, followed by mirthful laughter from both parties made a chuckle flow from Tara as well.

Yes, she thought, this was a love that would be told about for ages.

[elspethdekarios]

Random Gale Dekarios Headcanons

Hello I'm just thinking about That Man again

These are all SFW and just mundane life-after-tadpole thoughts.

Gale's home is clean but he is messy. The dishes are done, scented candles are lit, linens are laundered, but my man's got shit everywhere. Parchment, books, and quills are scattered in the areas he finds himself working in most often. Potion bottles in disarray. Random trinkets throughout the house. Grooming products cluttering the bathroom sink. He's very diligent about making his bed every morning, though.

Once he and tav have settled down post-game, his favorite thing to do is surprise them with breakfast in bed. He gets up extra early and goes all out on creating a tray of food--making their favorite tea, eggs exactly how they like them (extra butter, though, always), pancakes or some sort of pastry he can whip up quickly, and a vase holding a flower plucked from the window planter. He does this at least once a tenday.

Gale was worried his tower would be in the same depression-mess state as he left it once he brought tav home. He spent the journey home apologizing in advance for the disarray and promising that he's not a slob, he swears, it was just a difficult time. Tav, of course, assures him that there's no need to apologize, and that they'll help him clean the place up once they get there. Once they arrive, he cringes as he opens the front door, only to be taken aback by his home looking perfectly normal and clean. A grin spreads across his face as Tara stretches from her cushion in the window. ("Honestly, Mr. Dekarios, did you think I'd continue to live in such a state?")

He carries around a small portrait of tav in his pocket. Origin of this hc here lol

I know in the epilogue, the orb and all traces of it are completely gone, but I like to think that it left a scar. In certain lighting you can see that it's not just on his skin like a tattoo, but it's almost carved into his flesh, like a scar. I'm sure Mystra could smooth the skin where the orb was like it never happened, but we all know she's a petty bitch, so I think it's reasonable to think she could have taken the scar away, but chose to leave it as a reminder of Gale's mistake. The dark, weaving swirls have turned pale pink and translucent. Tav likes to mindlessly run their fingers over it while they lie in bed at night.

Speaking of, you cannot tell me the orb doesn't leave Gale with some sort of chronic pain, even after it's cured. I'm sure it's not as intense as the arcane hunger he felt before, but there are bound to be days where he's just very lethargic or dealing with lingering pain/discomfort similar to what he felt before the orb was dormant.

On a lighter note--he always has music playing in his home. Whether it's the piano in his study or an enchanted lyre he's charmed to float around in the kitchen as he cooks.

[thecampjuicebox]

To have and to hold Pt. 1

A couple of weeks before Tav and Gale's wedding night, Tav is having second thoughts. Seeking out a past lover before the big night, turns her world upside-down.

Pairing: Tav(f) x Gale x Astarion

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

WARNINGS: 18+ Minors DNI | gentle smut | cheating | Biting | mutual pining | angst | slow burn | porn with feeling | Fingering | light choking | game spoilers

Trying my hand at a multi-part fic. Let me know what you think! This idea was suggested to me and I couldn't NOT do it. This is gonna be a long one. Buckle up!

Dress fittings, picking out decorations, venue tours, flowers, food choices, invitations and exchanging kisses with family and friends you've neglected to speak to since the Nether Brain had fallen - all aspects of a wedding you didn't seem to take into account when accepting Gale's proposal. You love him, yes. Unconditionally. With every fiber of your being, and those floating through the weave. And yet.. Regret bubbles up in your gut while staring at yourself in the mirror, hands smoothing the bone white lace on the bodice of your wedding dress. You fumble with the top of your corset, shifting uncomfortably at the stiff boning. Shadowheart stands behind you, one hand placed gently on your shoulder and she leans in to whisper to you, your pointed ears perking up.

"There's still time to turn back, you know."

Your heart thumps audibly in your chest and you sigh, picking at your fingernails. You didn't want to admit how frightened you are. You've never considered forever. Especially not with someone like Gale. Charming, handsome, intelligence unmatched. He was the perfect candidate. The man your late mother always dreamed you'd bring home to the family, Selune bless her. You choke back tears at the thought of her. How she won't be there for the big moment anyways, so why does it matter who you wed? You'd also never been to Waterdeep. You and Gale decided to stay in Baldur's Gate briefly while you made the preparations. It was easier that way. Gale had traveled back to Waterdeep for short bursts of time, mostly to see that Tara, his tressym and trusted friend, was well taken care of. You decided to stay back every time, much to Gale's dismay. Something about making the trek to your soon to be forever home made you uneasy any time he'd ask. You've traveled all over Faerun and back. Hells, you'd even plunged into Avernus more times than you'd be willing to admit. The idea of spending your days in a tower with a tressym, a husband, and an endless supply of books was not how you thought you'd end your travels, though. Mrs. Dekarios. You'd take his last name, obviously. Wear it as a badge of honor. Meet his family, bare his children. Gods.. Children. The idea makes you nauseous, hot bile threatening to fight its way up your throat. Shaking your head, you tune back in to the sounds of the quaint Baldurian dress shop. You were no stranger to Figaro's. You came to enjoy the lavish clothing he offers. Textures your fingers never felt before the cult of the Absolute forced it's way into your life. You were reborn, newly cultured, and so very exhausted by all of it. Karlach stands, making her way over to the small platform you stand on and she meets your eyes in the mirror.

"Everything okay, Soldier?"

You chuckle at the nickname. Soldier.. You feel like anything but a soldier right now. Her warm hand reaches down to capture yours and she gives it a reassuring squeeze. Tears well up in your large brown eyes and you lower your head once more to ease the burning in your tear ducts. You feel so hopeless. Surrounded by the people you love most, but so entirely and devastatingly alone. Your thoughts swirl in your brain, engulfing the area the tadpole once lived. How could you be so ready to give up on Gale? You know he loves you just as much as you love him. If not more. Definitely more. A quiet sob escapes you and you crumble onto the platform, startling Shadowheart and Karlach. In confusion, the two kneel beside you, each one grabbing a hand.

"Gods, Tav.. What has gotten into you?"

Karlach's voice is stern and low, her fingers tightening around yours to ground you in the moment. Shadowheart sighs and shakes her head. She knows. She understands. Small cries rattle your ribcage as a never-ending stream of tears streaks your flushed cheeks. Embarrassment burns in your throat and you quickly stand again, both hands yanking away from your companions. You want nothing more to be free of this dress and the agonizingly tight corset holding all of you in. You reach back and tug at the laces of the corset in frustration, failing to loosen anything before throwing your hands down at your sides once more.

"I'd like to be free of this death trap, please."

You mumble quietly. Shadowheart giggles and begins unlacing the corset while Karlach moves to the front of you, both hands now resting on the tops of your trembling shoulders.

"It's going to be alright. Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. Hells, I'd be fucking batshit if I were in your position. Especially with someone as grand as Gale."

You allow a giggle to pass your frown and sigh heavily in relief when Shadowheart finally frees you from the corset, the pale leather folding neatly in her gentle hands.

"Looks like you need a hefty meal and a nap, Soldier. Let's get going. Your dress fits you just fine."

Figaro scoffs in the corner and collects the corset from Shadowheart, placing it down on a velvet bench before extending his hand to you and helping you down from the platform. He leads you to a small room so you can change back into your normal clothing, quickly shutting the curtain behind him as he steps out. You sigh and quickly shimmy out of your dress, carefully folding the fancy fabric and leaving it on the small stool in the room.

...

"Where are you headed off to? How was your dress fitting? I assume you've gotten all of the details figured out with Figaro by now?"

Gale's eyes lift from the dusty tome lying open on his desk. He scans your form, taking inventory of the cloak you've draped over your shoulders. You wiggle your toes in your boots and shrug off his concerned tone.

"I uh.. Derryth needs help collecting noblestock. Baelen is ill. The fitting went.. About as well as expected. Karlach cried, Shadowheart told me I should get the dress in black, Figaro was disgusted by that idea."

Your fingers drum against your thighs and you turn to look at him, attempting the most sincere look you can muster in the moment. The wizard's eyes narrow on you and he nods slowly, placing his palms flat on his desk to help lift him from his stool. His fingers graze the page on the tome before he begins his trek across the room to you. Gale pulls you into a tight hug, one hand grasping your waist while the other smooths your dark hair against the back of your head.

"Ah yes, Figaro and his.. Closed-minded fashion sense. Well, I'm glad the shop at least didn't go up in flames. The Underdark, hmm? Be safe, my love. Send word when you're on your way back, yes?"

You nod at his words and rest your head against his chest, the gentle thumping of his heart calming the nervous fizz in your brain for a moment. The soft velvet of his robe tickles your cheek and you nuzzle against it in the same fashion Tara would, but with much less purring. Gale chuckles and pecks the top of your head, mumbling a soft "I love you" against your scalp before he releases you, his hand reaching for yours to quickly caress the finger with your engagement ring on it. A soft smile thins his lips and he motions for you to make your exit. You smile nervously up at him, pulling your hand away gently and you turn to leave, your hands coming to your front to slowly slide your ring off of your finger and into your thigh pouch, your teeth catching your bottom lip. You slip into the night, tugging your cloak hood up to further shroud you in darkness.

...

You missed the glowing alure of the Underdark. The Myconid Colony serving as a beacon of calming light. You let out a quiet sigh at the familiar surroundings and cross your arms over your heaving chest, taking a moment to drink in the atmosphere and catch your breath. You weren't here to collect noblestock, and quite honestly, you're proud of yourself for the excuse you had come up with on the spot. You're in search of something much more valuable to you. A vampire spawn. The very one you'd shared so many sleepless nights with while infected with the tadpoles. Astarion. His name sends a shudder through your entire body. After your group took down Cazador in his crypt, Astarion made the impossible decision to kill the vampire lord and stop the Black Mass, freeing his fellow spawn to live in the shadows for eternity. Unfortunately, he was doomed to the same fate once the Nether Brain was defeated. You blink tears away from your eyes, rubbing your palms into the sockets to ease the slight burning. The thought of him cowering at the sun just after the final fight, running off never to be seen again, it makes your heart ache in a way you didn't think possible. And it has been exactly that long since you've laid eyes on the spawn. But you remember him so vividly. His pearlescent skin. His crimson eyes. His silvery hair that always rested in perfect curls, even after the roughest of battles with goblins.

Continuing your walk through the Underdark, your eyes fall on more familiar territory. The Duergar camp, nestled just on the edge of the black water you fondly remember sailing to Grymforge. However, the camp is... Inhabited. Rebuilt. Much more beautiful than you remember, large purple crystals growing in tall pillars around the quaint wooden houses peppered around the area. Long rope bridges connect the homes and buildings on the higher cliffs, chasm creeper and mushrooms speckled about on the rock. Your tired legs seem to will you towards the new found civilization, the promise of sleep fogging your brain. Taking a step into the camp, your eyes scan the surroundings, a few faces seeming oddly familiar to you. A tall, long haired vampire spawn with the scarring of runes scattered about his face approaches you, his crimson eyes cutting through the dark gloom. The purple glow of the crystal pillars around you grants you just enough light to make out his facial features.

"Tav..?"

"Sebastian?!"

Your eyes widen at the sudden realization. Sebastian is one of the Spawn your group freed from Cazador's crypt. A bright smile adorns your tired face and you sprint towards him, quickly embracing him in a tight hug. You nearly knock him off of his feet, your hands gripping the soft fabric of the back of his coat. The spawn chuckles and catches your short frame, gently lifting you from the dirt and giving you a playful twirl, earning a giggle. You inhale deeply, the scent of lavender and deep earth filling your nostrils.

"It's lovely to see you. Astarion hasn't stopped talking about his adventures by your side. I do believe he's around here somewhere. But what are you doing here, Dear? "

Your breath catches in your throat at the mention of his name. He's here. He's really here. You traveled all the way beneath the ground on an inkling that he might have followed the other spawn to the Underdark to seek refuge from the burning sun. Your heart thumps in your chest and Sebastian inhales your excitement deeply. He places you back onto your feet and takes a step back, smoothing his coat down before motioning for you to follow him. You nod and make haste, trying your best to keep up with his quick strides as he leads you in, what you assume to be, the direction of the spawn you initially traveled here to see. Sebastian stops in front of a large wooden door, tapping a few knocks onto the surface with the knuckle of his index finger. He holds his free hand out to you, motioning for you to wait outside once he hears a quiet "Enter" from the dark room behind the door. He carefully opens the door and steps inside, blocking the being within the walls from seeing you.

"Pardon me, Astarion. You have a visitor."

"A visitor? I thought I told that wretch that it was a one time thing! Gods, these deep gnomes are needy. Very well, send him in."

Sebastian stifles a chuckle and steps aside, revealing your presence to the the vampire. You step forward into the dim candlelight of his home, bottom lip caught nervously between your teeth, biting impressively hard on the sensitive flesh. Astarion looks even more beautiful than you remember. His hair a touch longer than before, but still arranged in that intoxicating mess of curls. A sparkling silver chalice rests between his pale, slender fingers and he swirls the contents in it with finesse. A familiar metallic tang lingers in the air along with the soft scent of bergamot and rosemary. A scent you grew very fond of when you were traveling alongside the spawn. One you often find yourself craving back home. Astarion is lying on a small velvet love seat, one leg outstretched and the other bent with his foot resting firmly in the plush cushion beneath him. Piles of dusty books and candles speckle the tables and floors around him, the room still tidy, but certainly lived in. His back rests against the armrest and he stretches for a moment before his eyes drift towards the front door. As he slowly turns his attention to the new intruder, he takes another sip from the chalice and he chokes suddenly, sputtering the red liquid. You stand in the doorway, hands clasped behind your back and you watch his reaction, a light smirk building on your lips. Astarion hurries to his feet, setting the chalice down with care to not spill any more of its contents before moving towards you swiftly.

"Tav is.. Is that you?"

You nod quickly and he whisks you from the floor, his face burying into the crook of your warm neck. You shudder at the sensation of his cold nose nuzzling your skin and you snake your arms around his shoulders, hands finding a comfortable spot in his soft hair. He groans at your touch and tugs you impossibly close to his frame, inhaling every bit of your scent that his nose will allow. Sebastian excuses himself, quietly closing the heavy door behind him.

"I've missed you, little star.."

"Where the hells have you been?"

You cling to him tightly, tears threatening to spill over your cheeks at his question. You shake your head and slowly slide from his embrace. His face contorts into a look of confusion, large eyes glimmering in the candle light when he focuses on your change of posture.

"Little love.. What ever could be the matter?"

You couldn't possibly tell him here. Not now. Not in this moment. You palm at your eyes once more before lifting your head to meet his gaze. He reaches out a gentle hand and cups your burning cheek, lovingly stroking the bone there with his thumb. You tilt your head into his touch and savor the feeling of his skin on yours again, finally. You've missed the vampling so much. Your heart pounds like a goblin war drum behind your ribs. He takes a step closer to you, his free arm gently snaking around your waist. Leaning down, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, the salty taste of your sweat making his pupils dilate. A quiet whine slips past your lips.

"Speak to me, Tav. You're never so tongue tied, you poor thing. What has you so rattled?"

Shaking your head, your arms fly around Astarion's neck, taking him by surprise. He stumbles backwards, bumping his calves against the ornate wooden frame of the loveseat and he sits down to catch himself, a small grunt breaking the otherwise harsh silence of the room. You collapse on top of his thin but toned frame and gasp at the impact. Wet eyes meeting his, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth and bite at it, drawing blood. Astarion senses the metallic hint in the air and groans, your very familiar and intoxicating scent making his grasp on you tighten in a primal fashion. He mumbles a soft "Gods.." and reaches one hand up to grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You strain your eyes in the candlelight, releasing your bottom lip, the skin there now bruised, little rivulets of your life's essence staining the skin there.

"Astarion I..."

His grasp on you loosens and his gaze softens. He flashes you a gentle smile and cocks his head to the side. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, and though he revels in the idea that he can still fluster you this way, you feel his intentions have changed. The way his hands rest respectfully on your lower back now, the gentle drumming of his fingers against your spine. He's hungry, but he's doing so well restraining himself. The Astarion you met after the Nautiloid crash and the Astarion seated beneath you now are so incredibly different. It only makes you want to explore him more, to learn his new ways. And it feels so, incredibly wrong.

"Yes?"

"H-Have you eaten? Lately, I mean. I can't imagine there's much to feast on in the Underdark.."

Your question makes his eyebrows knit together for a moment, his expression twisting at the thought of just how hungry he is. Sure, he's eaten. Feasted upon a deep gnome here and there, their blood burning the inside of his mouth as he drinks. He hasn't, however, had anything nearly as delicious as your blood since the death of the Nether Brain. You were the last of your kind that he fed on, and he missed the taste all the same.

"I have eaten, yes. But, you know I am a man of.. Tremendous appetite."

His velvet words send a shiver down your spine and you press to him tightly now, closing the small gap that was left between your torsos while you straddle one of his legs. His knee presses into your mound and you try your best to block to feeling out of your mind. His eyes meet yours, full of lust. Full of hunger. Tinted with the gentle flicker of.. Love. You were his first mortal, after all. And he would be a liar if he told you that all of those nights of honeyed words and sweet nothings weren't how he truly felt about you. You offered yourself to him in a way no one ever has. Not with the intent to sleep with him. Just with the intent to make sure he was taken care of. A debt he, to this day, has no idea how to repay. His thought process is halted when you lean in close, bloodied lips grazing the length of his earlobe and you mutter quietly.

"I-If you're hungry.. Feed."

You back yourself up to meet his gaze once more. His eyebrows furrow and he growls, the deep noise causing your insides to ignite. Without hesitation, Astarion leans forward and flicks his tongue out against your sensitive bottom lip, lapping at the blood that has begun to dry there. He earns a whine from you, his pointy ears perking up at the sound. He smirks, determined for more noises and he sucks your bottom lip between his own, sinking a fang into the already abused flesh. You moan quietly, tilting your head back to tug your lip away from his grasp and your hands meet his chest, fingers toying with the ruffles around the collar of his silk shirt. The vampling's breath stutters at the encounter, your hands on his chest making his hairs stand on end. You instinctively grind your hips down into his, your leathers making a quiet noise from the friction. "Please.." you stutter, hands pulling at the front of his shirt now, your begging making Astarion's head swirl. Nose first, Astarion nuzzles into the side of your neck again, this time with much more intent, tracing the length of your perfectly soft skin. Baring his fangs to the open space, he quickly drags the flat of his tongue to prime the area for the sensation of the sharp pricks. His teeth sink into the flesh there, like ice shards. The pain is delicious and dizzying. You roll your hips again, this time Astarion's hips bucking upwards to meet your already wet core. You ache for him and you hate yourself for it. He laps the now steady stream of blood he's drawn from your neck, a low groan ringing in your ear as he drinks. In the past, he would drink while you were unconscious. Now, you wished you'd have been awake every time you had offered your neck to him. The little noises he makes, the way he gently cradles the back of your head while he feeds.. It's intoxicating. You're drunk off of the pain and the pleasure. Drunk off of Astarion. His lips leave your skin, tongue tracing the new pierce marks he's left in the crook of your neck. His hands remain where they are, one cradling the back of your head, the other tightly gripping the back of your shirt. He sighs to himself, tilting his head back as he cleans the crimson fluid from his lips.

"By the Nine Hells, you're just as delicious as I remember. I need more of you.."

His hands both slide to meet the tie of your cloak, making quick work of undoing it, the dark fabric sliding to the floor at his feet. Your body trembles beneath every movement, every feather-light touch from his fingers. As much as you love him, this was a feeling Gale has never been able to give to you. You love him.. Differently. You love his intellect. You love how much he adores Tara. You love his affinity for books and the way he talks about the weave. But your love for Astarion.. That was leaps and bounds deeper than anything you've ever felt. His touch sets your skin on fire. Your name sounds like a lyric on his tongue, soft and melodious. You crave him. His presence. His existence. You crave all of it. Tears threaten your eyes again and Astarion notices immediately. His hands quickly cup your cheeks and his soft lips crash to yours, your entire body falling limp against him. Arousal boils your blood, bubbling up into your throat, escaping as a soft moan against the vampire's lips. You're unraveling right there in his arms. He kisses you in a way you never in your life have been kissed, teeth knocking, tongues wrestling for dominance, the slight copper taste of blood lingering in his mouth from his meal. Your hips find a steady rhythm, rocking back and forth against his lap, the two of you moaning in tandem at the fiery friction building between your bodies. His right hand snaps upwards to grab your throat, thumb and fingers pressing harshly into the sides of your neck, your breath labored by the force of his palm against your trachea. Hungry red eyes meet your gaze and Astarion's lips slowly form the words that will be your undoing.

"Your body keeps no secrets, my love. This is what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"

You moan at his words, jaw falling slack. His hand moves upwards to press his thumb into your mouth, a quiet "Suck." commanding your lips to close around the digit, tongue lapping at his fingerprint. He watches you, pupils blown out with desire, hair disheveled from your previous kiss. You continue to suck on his thumb, his free fingers tapping rhythmically against your cheek bone and he purrs in delight. Your bones vibrate, your core aches, walls fluttering around nothing. He slips his thumb from between your lips with a gentle "pop" and replaces it with his middle and index finger. You obediently take the new fingers just as you did the thumb, moistening them with your saliva. He presses down on the flat of your tongue and you stick it out, allowing him to swipe his fingers around in your spittle. A devilish grin thins his lips as he watches you.

"So good.. Let's put this to good use, shall we?"

He slides his wet fingers down towards the waistband of your leathers, using his free hand to tug them forward. You curse under your breath, unable to do anything but watch. His fingers hastily meet your core, swiping teasingly slow between your think folds and you collapse against him, shaky little moans ringing in his ears. He groans at how wet you are, wasting no time to dip two digits into your aching cunt, finally granting you the pleasure you've been seeking. His thumb presses tightly to your clit and he moves it in agonizingly slow circles, first clockwise, then counter clockwise, and suddenly, in no particular pattern. You writhe against his hand, gasping and whining.

"That's it. Such a mess."

He pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, relishing in the beautiful noises he earns in return. You're at the precipice now. You grind into his hand feverishly and throw your head back, whining into the open air, his name coming out in little yelps and moans. However, he keeps the slow pace. Taking his sweet, sweet time with you. It's been so long since he's touched you. Made you moan like this. Made you drop all defenses and absolutely lose yourself in him. He loves every second of it, his own pleasure coming solely from pleasuring you. He wants nothing more than to deliver you the ecstasy you so greatly deserve. It's the only way he knows how to repay you for the kindness, love, and support you've shown him in this lifetime. You'd never be up front about asking him for sex, let alone to touch you like this. You're the only person he's ever known to respect how he feels, what he wants, what he needs. For this, he has grown to love you with every ounce he's able to give. The time apart from you was agonizing and he spent many nights, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, praying to whatever gods would hear him that you would return to him. That you'd crawl into his bed once more so he could hold you and drink in your warmth. However, he knew you were somewhere else, with someone else. He didn't have the heart to approach you about it in this moment. All he wanted was to be here, with you. To enjoy you for as long as he possibly could before you slipped away, more unknown amounts of time passing before he'd be able to lay eyes on you again. To take in your sweet scent, one he has tried for months to recreate in a perfume. Vanilla, sandalwood, and woodsmoke. A tantalizing combination that leaves his brain all fuzzy and warm. He snaps back to reality, focusing harder now on your moans and the wiggle of your hips. The knot in your belly tightens with each stroke of his fingers against that heavenly spot within your walls, your arousal soaking his entire hand and the leathers that separate your skin from the cold air. His free hand grasps your hip, stilling your desperate grinding.

"Come for me, pet."

The movement of his fingers keeps a slow, steady pace. His thumb continues to rub into your clit, pressing a little harder now to throw you over the edge. You tighten around him, the knot in your core finally snapping, ecstasy making your eyes roll into your buzzing skull. The loud moan you let out surprises even you as you come undone against his hand. He grins proudly, working you through your climax, whispering sweet affirmations of how well you're doing during your comedown. Carefully sliding his fingers from your leathers, he pops one into his mouth, savoring your warm slick. His lids flutter in enjoyment and you watch him closely.

"You are.. Filthy.."

You giggle and wrap your arms sleepily around his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you up to straddle him now, hands cupping the supple meat of your ass. You close your eyes tightly, the reality of tonight's events creating a pit in your stomach. You fight with yourself internally. Should you tell Astarion? Should you tell Gale? Should you even go home? A quiet sigh leaves you and your breath coasts along Astarion's pale flesh, making him tremble momentarily. He rests his chin on your shoulder and mumbles quietly. His next words make your stomach drop, your eyes shooting open suddenly.

"Well, this should be fun to explain to Gale.."

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexTav Enemies to Lovers Pt. 27

Part 26 | Read on Ao3 | Master List

Summary: Gale recovers after he reveals the truth to Tav. Some heartache ahead. Angst. Best girl Karlach and sweet Wyll offer their support.

Gale was mortified. Thankfully, Karlach dumped a potion of invisibility on him - although miffed at first from the burst of cold liquid, he realized it would work as a transdermal potion. She was trying to spare him, to hold together whatever pathetic shreds of dignity and pride he had left. 

He was still having difficulty breathing, but the tieflings arms wrapped tightly enough that it was almost soothing. It seemed most others were asleep, and despite the illusion, Gale kept his eyes shut so as not to see if Tav was still near. 

When he felt the familiar brush of the tent against his sleeve, instant relief flooded him. Karlach set him on the bed and Tara yawned. “Mr. Dekarios?” She mumbled, still half asleep and Gale, still invisible, grunted in acknowledgment. “Mr. Dekarios why are you invisible?” 

Karlach grimaced and filled a glass of water to leave on his bedside. “Chin up, soldier. We’ll get through this - we’ve faced far worse things, and no matter what happens I’ve got your back. Tara -“ Karlach turned her gaze to the Tressyum who still eyed her suspiciously. “Keep an eye on him, alright? I’ll stop by in the morning… don’t worry about breakfast, mate, it’s on me.” She brushed his forehead materially then left. 

Gale felt the weight of a thousand suns on his chest as Tara’s paws dug into him like pressure points. Despite her small size, when she stepped on the right places she felt unimaginably heavy. He groaned and shimmed to get her to shift her position. “I assume you told her, then?” 

The potion wore off as he nodded. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, if it’s all the same to you.” His voice was strained, broken. Tara’s eyes narrowed to green slits and she loafed on his chest, her gentle purr lulling him into soundless sleep. 

** 

Gale wasn’t able to face his companions the next morning. He was too embarrassed, hurt - ashamed. Tav’s word’s echoed through his mind like a death sentence. He already was granted one of those, what was another? Perhaps it would be best for everyone involved if he did use the orb… perhaps it would be enough to atone, to be forgiven by the Goddess and Tav.

A lifetime’s worth of emotion bubbled to the surface and wave after wave assaulted him. Of course she hated him, why wouldn’t she? He ruined her life, robbed her of a promising future - and he expected she would be amenable to that? If it weren’t for the pesky tadpole in his brain, he likely would have slipped away - retreated back to his tower in Waterdeep without so much as a word. 

The coward’s way, no doubt. 

His brow furrowed as he laid in bed, staring at the top of the tent. Gale was a hostage to his emotional spiral. Tara stayed by his side in quiet understanding. The morning came and went, the muted blue rays of the shadowlands filtering through small tears in the fabric until the sky turned a blaze of purple hues. 

Wyll tried to encourage him to come out for breakfast, then a walk through the inn, and Gale despondently sent him away each time. He knew he was brooding, stewing in his lament. The camp was silent apart from the subtle sounds of Wyll flipping the pages of his book and playing fetch with scratch and the owl bear and Halsin whittling ducks. 

Gale swung his legs over the side of the bed and felt woozy. His stomach gurgled with emptiness, a starved void. His head pulsed and his eyes throbbed, sore from crying. 

“Now seems as good a time as any to eat something, Mr. Dekarios.” Tara nudged his flank with her head, “You did the right thing, regardless of what ugly words were exchanged.” 

“I hope you excuse me for not being able to see that at present.” Gale mumbled, tossing his hair back and pulled it into a top knot. “Any interest in joining me while I prepare dinner?” 

Tara scoffed, shaking out her fur. “When have I ever been useful in the kitchen to you, Mr. Dekarios? If you need emotional support, simply say so.” 

Gale rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. He should have known better than to ask, his thinly veiled attempt at wanting company was no match for Tara. Truth was, he was afraid to step out onto the camp ground. He knew it meant questions, questions he didn’t want to be bombarded with nor did he have the answers to. It also meant prying eyes. Two of his least favorite things. 

He shut his eyes and took a breath before collecting the cooking supplies and stepping out of his tent. 

** 

Wyll was tending the fire, the embers unruly. As he prodded the flames, they licked higher and nearly singed off his brow. “By the hells, that is HOT.” Wyll leaped backwards, rubbing the back of his neck and laughed at himself. “Gale, did you see that?” 

Although he was unsure if Wyll’s chipper mood was on account of balancing out his moodiness, all the same he was grateful. “I did,” Gale chuckled despite himself, “Best be careful. Haven’t spent much time stoking fires, I wager?” 

Wyll grinned and poked at the fire some more. “Not particularly I’m afraid. Unless you count the fires of the hells.” 

Gale settled in and began chopping the remaining vegetables. The movement was methodical and allowed his thoughts to melt away into the singular activity. Gale was grateful for the company, all the more so because Wyll allowed him to relax into an easy silence without expectation. 

When they heard the buzz of voices approaching, Gale’s entire body seized, every muscle tensing simultaneously. He felt pulled so tight he thought he might snap. His stomach twisted, gnawed, and sick heat flooded up his neck. His mouth filled with hot, metallic saliva and he swallowed hard. 

Wyll’s voice cut through his panic, “Take it easy, Gale - I’m here with you, and - respectfully - I don’t think Tav will be coming over to chat. Not soon, anyway.” Gale flicked his gaze up to Wyll, once again grateful for his company. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve the kindness, he felt it was unwarranted. He expected the rest to loathe him as much as she did, they all admired and valued her so.. and he was.. well, Gale. 

 He made the mistake of allowing his gaze to wander to the voices. Immediately he was gripped with horrible dread when he saw Tav. They seemed unlike themselves, their eyes were red and swollen - she must have been crying to. He felt his heart ache, how desperately he wanted to hold her and comfort her and he knew he had no right to such feelings. 

Despite how long ago it was, the pain he inflicted felt insurmountable. He stared at her, waiting to see if her eyes would meet his. If she would look in his direction at all. 

She didn’t. 

** 

After a tenday of his quiet brooding, Karlach demanded he spend the day with her and Wyll. The troop had nearly conquered their foes and completed the gauntlet, each day closer to assaulting Moonrise. 

“Come on, solider - I told Tav I’m taking the day off.” She grinned, shaking him by the shoulder. “Let’s go! We can chat people up in the inn, grab a frosty pint… the world is our oyster!” 

Gale groaned and shook his head, “I don’t think-“ 

“Good, today’s not the day for thinking - now, up with you!” She hoisted him up and despite his protests, he allowed it. “Where would you be without me, huh?” She smiled, squeezing his shoulder. “I let you have your moping, neither of us know if we have much time left so I can’t let you waste away what might be your final days.” 

Gale laughed darkly. “A bit bleak, don’t you think?” 

“Or realistic,” Karlach grinned, nudging him. “Imagine you spent the last weeks alive brooding away the time like this! I could never let you do that, mate. There’s plenty of sorrow - time for some joy, alright? Both can exist at the same time. Just come fuck about for a while, huh? For me?” 

“Fine,” Gale mumbled begrudgingly. Tara would be pleased, at least. She departed a bit ago, sending word back to his mother about his whereabouts and safety. Had he mentioned what Mystra asked of him, though, he imagined Tara would not have been so eager to leave his side. 

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Pancakes

Set post-game. Thea Dekarios wakes from her trance to smell pancakes and investigates. SFW.

Based on this art.

When Thea Dekarios ended her trance, the first thing she noticed was a very distinct smell.

Pancakes?

PANCAKES?!?!

While she knew Gale was an excellent cook (as good as Mum, and that’s saying a lot), she did not know how utterly delicious his pancakes were. When she asked about the recipe, he mentioned it was a secret Dekarios family recipe. And winked. I’m a Dekarios now, so tell me what makes those pancakes so damn good. She tried as quietly as possible to sneak down the stairs and into the kitchen without alerting him, but a particularly squeaky floorboard made her husband aware of her presence.

“Good morning, my darling girl!” he said happily, flipping a pancake with every bit of flair she had come to expect from Gale. To say that he was a changed man was a gross understatement. For the first time in his life, he’s truly happy and at ease with himself. He loves teaching. He…loves. So much. “How did you rest?”

Leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, she smiled. “Good. I relived the night we told each other how we felt, and before you ask, it was just as lovely the second time around.”

He barked a laugh. “Well thank gods for that, eh? That was such a magical night, my love. Sometimes I can scarce believe that we found each other in the first place…and that by some miracle we are married and making a life together here in Waterdeep.” His attention went back to the pancakes. “I made you chocolate chip, sweetness. They’ll be done in a moment or two. And coffee,” a mage hand appeared and began to pour her a cup. “Will be done in a second.”

Thea shook her head, still smiling, and sat down at the table. The mage hand brought her the coffee in her favorite mug. It has me in my cat wildshape painted on it. “So much doting this morning, Mr. Dekarios. Have I done anything to deserve it?” She teased, the corners of her mouth quirking into a grin. “Or will I be doing anything to deserve it in the future?”

He flipped the pancakes onto a plate. “Mrs. Dekarios, you should know by now that the answers to those questions are ‘yes’ and ‘yes.’ And this,” He turned towards her, a look of merriment on his face, pulling at his robe slightly to expose a hairy leg to his upper thigh, making her squeal with laughter. “is only a taste of your reward.” As he laughed (the most wonderful sound in the world), he brought her plate of chocolate chip pancakes to her with a bow. “My lady’s breakfast. Hot and fresh.”

“So, like you then, love?” Hot. Fresh. All mine as I’m all his. She wrinkled her nose and giggled as she sliced into the first pancake. Oh fuck me, these smell amazing.

He rolled his eyes playfully, pouring three large globs of batter on the griddle. “I’m in too good a mood to protest this time, dearest. I’ll simply take your word for it that I am, indeed, hot and fresh. Speaking of which, I did take a shower, so by that logic, I am fresh at the very least—”

“Gale?”

“Yes, my love?”

She brought the first forkful of pancakes to her mouth. “You’re the hottest and freshest man in my life, now please come here and give me a kiss.”

His eyes widened, and he rushed towards her. Cupping her face in his hands, he gently kissed her lips. Perfect. He’s perfect. “Forgive me. I was too taken in by you. You see, darling, you’re somehow more beautiful when you wake from your trance…” He shook his head, kissing her once more. “Pancake duty calls. Don’t want them to burn.” He hurried back to the griddle and hummed a song Thea recognized from their wedding.

As she lifted the first forkful of pancakes to her lips, she sighed happily.

It was worth it.

All the pain.

All the misery.

Having to share my head with a damn tadpole.

It was worth it for this.

“Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms.”

My darling Gale was absolutely right.

[nocoffeeforoldmen]

belated WIP Wednesday I guess?

so I've been toying around with this no tadpoles AU wherein Gale is the wizard who has taken over Ramazith's Tower and Rolan is his apprentice. then of course I finally am writing Orla's and Gale's love story, which has obviously gone differently than with the canon story, but I do love me a good childhood friends to lovers trope. so here's a lil bit of that.

The golden eyes fell upon the tiefling briefly pleased. Then they glowed in recognition. “This is Rolan?” she repeated without taking her eyes from the landing. An affirmative came from Gale combined with some other related tangent until she slapped a hand against his chest. “You do realize your apprentice and his–” She then turned her voice in the direction of the other tieflings, who she assumed to be Cal and Lia, “–siblings have been staying in a hostel since their arrival, don’t you?”

Gale’s face fell as he looked up at Rolan. “I wasn’t aware, no,” he answered quietly. “Why wouldn’t you have mentioned that you hadn’t secured lodgings outside of a hostel?” Another slap came to his chest. His face twisted as his attention turned back to the woman he stood with. A hand flew to hold onto his now throbbing chest. “Seems wholly unnecessary.”

“Gale Dekarios, where exactly do you suppose three young people who likely just faced exile from the only home they ever knew would find lodgings in this city?” she scolded. “For someone who is so undeniably brilliant, it seems the simple act of common sense eludes you.”

His brows furrowed and lips pressed into a tight line. “Once again, these reactions are entirely unwarranted,” he grumbled, rubbing at his chest. His eyes briefly drifted toward the tiefling still standing above them. There was nothing unusual about Rolan being there as he arrived at least three tendays prior. Gale’s attention snapped back to his apprentice at the realization. Three tendays. “You should have alerted me, though, Rolan. We could have made arrangements.”

“And we will make those arrangements immediately,” the woman cut in before Rolan even had the opportunity to respond. Gold eyes were intense on the tiefling but no longer filled with the same concern they held upon her arrival. “You’ll be staying with us.”

“Excuse me?” both Rolan and Gale guffawed at her suggestion.

With one brow arched, she turned her focus back to the wizard beside her. She reached out to fuss with the collar of his robe, which had folded itself inward at some point during the shelving of books. Folding the collar right side out, she smoothed her palm over his clavicle and lingered with her hand on his chest for a moment. “Yes, your mother and sister will be staying with Aurelia regardless,” she explained, voice softer. “And Tara will certainly bear no mind to the additional bodies in the house so long as she finally meets this highly praised Rolan.”

Into the main clearing of the floor came one of the hooligans she had referenced when she interrupted. This tiefling was tall and broad, clad in worn potentially second hand leather armor. Though similar in skin tone and overall coloring to Rolan, his whole demeanor was gentler. More approachable. “So,” he began with a finger wagging in the air. Rolan’s dagger-like stare prompted him to clear his throat and fold his hands in front of him. “Apologies for the interruption, but… um… Mrs… Of Waterdeep, do you… perhaps have a couch…”

Tumbling in behind the first half of the ne'er do wells came the second. A slight tiefling with her ashy hair falling into her face and a bow perched on her back. “Or even a nice balcony,” she added with a hopeful grin. “Beggars needn’t be choosers. We’ll take the balcony, and you’re more than welcome to stow Rolan in the bathtub if need be.” 

“Not that we don’t think that you would have plenty of rooms in such a… large tower,” Cal continued, gesturing to the library around them. “We just wouldn’t want to assume.”

[ladytesla]

Breaking His Record (Gale x Tav)

(Mindless self-indulgent fluff featuring Mr. and Mrs. Dekarios. Usually my tav Medora is a Halsin girlie, but I do love an alternate ending in Waterdeep. No content warnings, just a couple of nerds being nerds. Be gentle lol)

it was one of the rare days in Waterdeep when the snow fell hard. It collected on the panes of the windows, and the balcony outside was unusable at the moment, the furniture nothing more than rounded lumps under a good three inches of snow. Glancing outside at the steel-gray sky made Gale even more content sitting where he was on the couch. He had a fire roaring in the hearth, the piano in the corner idly playing soft music as it always did, a glass of red wine and a plate of snacks on the end table within reach, Tara draped around his shoulders like a purring scarf, a cushion behind his back in just the right spot, and his new wife asleep beside him with her head in his lap.

Gods, Medora was his wife now. She had been for three months, but it still amazed him every morning when he woke up beside her, or every time he felt the weight of his new wedding ring. His family adored her, his friends welcomed her, even Tara tolerated her as much as a grumpy old tressym could. She had lost her home and her family. He had lost hope. And somehow, in their darkest days, they'd found it all again in each other.

That's a good line, he suddenly realized. Got to remember that one in the next chapter I write. His manuscript, chronicling what Medora jokingly called 'The Tadpole Adventures' only had a few chapters written out. Someday he'd finish it. He let his eyes wander drowsily over the sheets of parchment, the rich dark wood of the desk, the ink, the quills...

His lips suddenly curled into a small smile. It had been a while since he'd tried to break his record... and now was a perfect time.

He brushed the back of a finger over Medora's cheek to test if she was awake. She didn't stir. Perfect.

"Levitatus," he whispered, pointing to the jar of pencils and quills on the corner of the desk. It floated slowly across the room toward him and he gently caught it, wincing when some of them clacked together. It might as well have been a thunderclap with how quiet the room was. Still, Medora didn't move, not even when he took one pencil from the jar and gently, ever so gently, lodged it in the thick, messy bun of her hair.

He'd started doing it as a joke when they sat together at faculty meetings at Blackstaff Academy. She often had her hair tied back now in a careless half-knot at the back of her head, and she sometimes kept a pencil in it in case she needed to take notes on the fly. Due to the curls and thickness of her hair, it rarely ever fell out.

So what was one more? Her hair was so thick that it took ages for her to notice that he was slowly adding pencils to it. After that, she rarely let him sit behind her... but then their friends caught on and also began to try their hands at the pencil game. It became a joke among them, and Medora would always pretend to be exasperated, but she still laughed. The day she didn't was the day Gale would put a stop to it all, but so far it was still a mindless and silly little game. He still held the record of four, much to the chagrin of his friend Quill from the transmutation department, who had a wager riding on their other friend Inara who taught psionics reaching five. As nice as those numbers were, they didn't compare to how many he could get when Medora was asleep. That record sat at nine. And now here she was, bundled in a thick blanket, lulled into an afternoon nap by wine and the fire and the music (and, he hoped, the comfort of his presence), so it was unlikely she would awaken.

As he reached for another pencil and found a crochet hook instead for some reason, he felt small paws kneading at his shoulder. Tara was awake, and watching the show. He shook his head slowly, tapping a finger to his lips. Not a word.

She dug her claws in slightly, as if to say I can speak whever I very well please, thank you very much Mr. Dekarios, but stayed silent. Gale paused as he considered where to place the next (oh, it was a knitting needle this time). He couldn't go too close to the scalp, and also he couldn't dislodge any of the other objects as the accidental movement might wake her up. He wondered, as he slowly slid the knitting needle home, if this was what surgeons felt like during operations.

Gale held his breath as the ninth pencil (he'd moved on to quills now, actually) lodged in what was starting to look like a bird's nest. Still, Medora slept on. The song the piano was playing ended and he screwed his eyes shut and didn't move a muscle until another began. No unnecessary sounds. He was so close to breaking his record. He reached for the jar again, and his face fell. The jar was empty! He held it up for Tara to see, craning his neck to meet her eyes and pleading silently for her help. She rolled her eyes as only she could, then got up and with a tressym's grace leaped off the couch and silently padded out of the room. Gale sat and waited, hoping she'd hurry. He didn't know how long Medora would doze.

Finally, Tara reappeared, and oh gods yes he'd buy her as many fine treats as she wanted. She'd found the soft case with the rest of Medora's knitting needles inside. He took it gleefully, carefully unrolled it and withdrew another needle.

And... ten. The record was broken! Gale turned to silently celebrate with Tara, but she'd left the room. Of course she had. Not satisfied with simply breaking his record, he grabbed an eleventh knitting needle. Then a twelfth. And reached for a thirteenth.

"Get them out, Gale."

"Ah!" He hadn't been expecting Medora to speak, and the knitting needle fell from his hand in surprise. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, a wry smile on her face.

"I broke my record," Gale grinned, tapping her nose with his finger before starting to remove the various objects from her hair.

"Did you now?" She asked airily. "Or did I wake up midway through and let you think you were winning?"

"No..." he breathed, looking down at her in dismay. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I would," she grinned back. "Your record is invalid, my love."

"When did you wake up?" Gale asked as more pencils and quills clacked back into the jar.

"I'm not telling," she said simply. She sat up and stretched, then reached for the wine glass on the end table. Her own sat empty on the other end table, and his was still quite full.

"Oh no you don't!" Gale triumphantly held it out of her reach. "You're not telling because you don't know because you're lying through your teeth!" He grinned. "You slept through the whole thing and you know it! Admit it!" He leaned away, keeping the wine still out of her reach. "The record stands!"

"Wishful thinking!" She laughed, trying to climb over him to get the glass. He finally let her have it with an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, and she curled up closer to him with her prize and examined the contents of the jar.

"I was wondering where that knitting needle went," she mused, plucking it out of the jar and adding it back to her needle case.

"You need to stop leaving them all over the place," he chided as he settled an arm around her shoulders, twining a loose curl of her hair around his fingers. Once the wine was gone, she got up and went to the kitchen for the bottle to refill both off their glasses. They huddled together under the blanket, staring into the fire and listening to the music from the piano and the wind howling outside.

"The record still stands, though," Gale said after a while. Medora smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"We'll see," she murmured.  Gale turned and pressed his lips to the top of her head... mindful of the single quill he'd still left in her hair, just to see how long it would take her to notice.