[Gale feels the weight of disappointment - mostly from himself, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel Mystra's as well, his goddess reaching through the Weave with every spell cast to express her discontent with his continued disobedience. That squeeze to his hand does wonders to bolster him, more than he can express with even words.

He offers Astarion a grateful look instead, his smile reaching to his eyes.]

You're right. You often are, you know. I couldn't give it to her, not in good conscience. Not after everything she did to me, and by extension, to everyone else. To you. However, should the need for us to find it arise, we know where to start our search.