mystracal | 🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

I will be, dearest, not would have been.

[He shifts to nuzzle under Gale's ear, nipping at his skin.]

Will be, then.

[His heart jumps a bit at that nip. Just a little pain for his pleasure.]

Were you ever interested, I could show you how the gods bond through the Weave. It's an experience unlike any other, I assure you.

How does it compare to the carnal pleasures of our material plane?

[A beat.]

It's... been some time since I experienced mortal intimacy. I barely know where to start with a comparison.

[He's not bitter about that so much as embarrassed to admit it, especially given how worked up he was earlier.]

But it is phenomenal. With the Weave, you leave your bodies behind, entwining your very souls. Your senses are heightened, and you experience pleasure not just with your partner, but through them, within them. Anything you can imagine, you can feel and become, all while bathed in its embrace.

[Astarion pauses as well before answering.]

Although I'd like to, that may take more time, dearest. I do worry about what entwining my soul might expose.

Are you afraid of what I might see in there?

[He says that teasingly, but knows there might be a nugget of truth in it.]

Obviously. Or what might happen to you should it remind me of a darker time.

I can take care of myself in the Weave, I assure you. And you, no matter what you may face there. We would face it together.

[He runs his hand along Astarion's back in a gentle, comforting circle.]

But another time, certainly. The offer will stand whenever you are ready.

[Astarion gives a quiet hum, rubbing his thumb over Gale's hand.]

Another time, yes. I would like that. We won't limit ourselves in the pleasures we'll share together.

There will be plenty of time to discover what methods will serve us both well. For now, admittedly, I'm just enjoying having you near.

[Oh dear, maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the Weave, because that takes his mind back to the one who oversees it, who commands all magic.]

Stay the night, won't you?

I was planning on it, yes. I did enjoy my conversation with sleeping Gale.

[Relief eases onto his face; gods, he's lovesick.]

So long as he doesn't keep you awake. I'm almost certain tonight's lecture will be on the crown, but perhaps he'll surprise us both.

[It warms Astarion to see Gale at ease with him. He shifts slightly to kiss the corner of Gale's lips.]

I shall wait with bated breath and pointy ears to hear what he has to share with me.

[He tries to revel in that relief rather than thinking about what the morning will bring. It's plenty dark beyond the entrance of the tent, with most of their companions having already gone to bed. They're that much closer to his meeting with Mystra.]

We'll be near some of the places you said we might find your siblings tomorrow. We should start looking.

If they don't find us first. We'll have to keep our wits about us.

[He pushes himself up over Gale, looking into his eyes before leaning in to kiss him, slow and lingering.]

But enough of that, now.

[Oh, he likes that. They really should talk about this, but... he can't help himself.

He brings his legs up and around Astarion's sides to help him balance, his hands finding their way to the sides of his pale face. He returns that kiss, closing his eyes and letting himself get lost in it, holding it for as long as Astarion will allow.]

[Astarion has decided that the time for talking is over, sorry. He kisses Gale deeply, thoroughly, his tongue tasting all that the wizard has to offer before he pulls away just enough to nuzzle at Gale's cheek.]

Get your rest, dear. Tomorrow, we'll see your goddess, we'll seek my siblings, then I will find us one of the finest private rooms Baldur's Gate has to offer.

[Gale lets him pull away, taking a moment after that nuzzle to simply gaze into those ruby eyes; his own are full of warmth, joy, a hope he rarely allows himself to feel.

But he's been feeling it more and more as of late. He feels it when Astarion smiles at him, indulges in it when they kiss.]

Until tomorrow, then.

[If nothing else, it should be a day to remember, for better and for worse.]

[Hopefully not too memorable, but Astarion knows better than to hope for that with their merry little band. He cuddles back against Gale, gently brushing a hand through the wizard's hair to lull him to sleep.]

[Sleep comes easily; it's the part where Gale sleeps well that he struggles this evening.

His nighttime musing makes an appearance, as usual, and it's not just about the crown, but Karsus himself: his downfall, his power, and what ultimately drove him to try to usurp the goddess of magic, Mystryl.

It's after her name comes up that the unease sets in. Gale falls quiet, sleeping deeper - but not better. His mind turns from Mystryl to Mystra herself - to the orb, to what she'll say. He can see himself before her greatness, her disappointment radiating all around her like the necrotic aura consuming him. She knows of his defiance; she knows about the crown, and his desire for it.

She knows what he might do with it.

And thus, she revokes the charm that stabilizes the orb. Its immediate hunger is ravenous as it first devours what magic he's managed to claw back - but that's not enough to sate it. It continues to devour the dream around him, the scar carved into his skin growing into a cavernous maw as it feeds upon his very body.

Gale turns on his back in his sleep, the orb on his bare chest glowing unsteadily as it illuminates the tent. So much for a good night's rest.]

[Things just can't be easy, can they? Thankfully, Astarion's rest is never deep. He rouses immediately as soon as Gale begins to toss and turn, sitting up on the bedroll to get a better look at just what's disturbed the wizard's sleep. The glow of the orb paints the worried lines of his face in stark contrast before his mind catches up enough to realize just what's happening. Immediately he reaches for Gale's shoulders, shaking him, trying to wake him.]

No, no. We are not having this. We are not having any of this! Wake up!

[As he waits to see if Gale will wake up, his eyes cast quickly around the tent looking for something, anything magical. He'd shed all of his own equipment before visiting, but he knows Gale likes to keep various items about just to inspect and ponder over during their downtime.

And, of course, there's always the tome that sits only a short distance away, covered and out of sight.]

[The second shake wakes Gale, who almost immediately folds in on himself. The charm is still intact; the orb is still fed, however temporarily. It won't destabilize on account of hunger.

But there are plenty of other reasons it might. He presses his hand to his chest - the scar is still there, not a maw, not an all-consuming thing devouring the world around him. He needs to calm it; he needs to calm himself.

His awareness flits back, his eyes landing on Astarion. Gods, Astarion. He can't do this in front of him. It was a nightmare. He has to calm down.

Gale takes a breath, trying to think. The glow spills out from beneath his fingers, and he grits his teeth, groaning.]

Box, under the far table. There are- rings inside. A necklace.

[Astarion is darting across the tent before Gale even finishes. He has the box in hand in moments, flips it open only a heartbeat later, and the rings and necklace go tumbling into his hands. He presses them all against Gale's chest, over the orb, as if trying to staunch a bleeding wound.]

Come on, then. Take them. They're yours. You can't do this to me.

[Gale doesn't even take them himself, instead putting his hands over Astarion's and pressing them harder against his chest. The light glows greedily, and in an instant of weakness, their tadpoles connect: a vision of the hungering, clawing darkness flits across Gale's mind, an insatiable creature ravaging through him as it becomes him—

And then it is gone. The trinkets in Astarion's hands, so drained of magic that they can no longer maintain their own substance, crumble into dust. The light fades to a soft glow; Gale pulls in a deep breath, then two as his hands shake, clinging to Astarion's as though they were a lifeline.]

Thank you. It's... quiet, for now.

[That vision leaves Astarion shaking as well, his hands trembling over Gale's as his eyes dart from the glow of the orb to the wizard's face to the dust smeared with the sweat on his chest.

His expression is raw and terrified for a heartbeat of a moment before panic takes over.]

What in the nine hells was that?! I thought you had the damned thing under control!

[His voice pitches high with anxiety, he's freaking out.]

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