I worry far more that you'll one day realize you have no use for me.

[It slips out before Gale can reel it in, a moment of raw injury from a wound reopened; he pulls in a deep breath, the scent of Astarion's freshly washed hair flooding his senses.]

I was never Mystra's equal. I never could be, no matter how much I wanted to prove myself to her. I could have had all the power in the world, and she would have never seen me as anything but less than her. A mortal plaything for the divine, to be tossed aside when she no longer saw value in my existence, in my devotion.

[He pushes that breath out. Under the water, his hand comes to rest on Astarion's knee, his fingers trembling.]

I knew deep down that I would never be a god, that she would never love me as I loved her, but I thought that if she would see what I could do, could understand my potential... she'd keep me. I failed on all fronts. She'd told me to be happy with what I had, and maybe I should have been, but I couldn't be. I couldn't stand the thought that she'd never see me as a person until I had proven myself.

[He finally gets around to his point, his forehead still resting against Astarion.]

I don't want to be less than you in any way. I'd never feel like I was enough.