🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

[mystracal]

tfln | invitations | and there was only one bed | undermountain alurlyath | what could be | blood bond | the price of freedom
it wore his face | dinner with morena dekarios | rediscovery

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Whoops, sorry that got long!

[mystracal]

[Gale of Waterdeep is still, in many ways, a broken man. He has yet to fully reconcile what happened with Mystra, heartache finding him at his worst moments; it reminds him that she's only interested in how useful he can be, whether as a prodigy, as her Chosen, or as an explosive means to an end. Maybe she's always been that way, and he was just too blinded by his devotion for her to see it; maybe his transgression against her really did cause her to lose all faith in him. He's not sure he'll ever know.

Regardless of whether or not she ever felt anything for him as he did for her, her spurning has colored his perception of what it means to truly connect to people. Their leader talked him out of obliterating himself once, but when this was all over, and they went their separate ways, who would he have? If he can't do anything for others, why would they keep him around? And if he couldn't get rid of the orb, what would happen then?

He asks himself that in the moment Astarion seems to offer him a connection, and he finds himself afraid to take it. It's flirtatious, licentious, and he's not sure entirely sincere, but it's still something Gale didn't expect, even teasingly. He laughs quietly with a sober smile, just enough of a chuckle to push the air out of him.]

It's tempting, I'll admit...

[And yet, he turns it down - not because he doesn't trust Astarion, but because he doesn't want the vampire to realize he has nothing to offer. He manages to keep his tone light, though the somber look in his eyes likely speaks volumes.]

But this is probably best saved for when I'm not going to face my mother later in the evening.

o man don't apologize that was beautiful.

[sangwhine]

[Tempting is enough for Astarion, at least at this moment. It's a seed planted, just enough to get Gale's interest, to let it linger at the back of his mind when he's alone in his tent at night. Then he can lure the wizard in for more, he can sink his claws in deeper. Provided this meeting goes well--and it will go well--Gale will be in his debt. There will be something owed, and if Astarion plays his cards right, he can see that debt repaid in protection, in a pretty little wizard to shield him from his master's wrath and more.]

Oh, of course, darling. We can't have you going to your mother looking undone.

[He lets his hands slip to Gale's shoulders as he says this, his voice dropping lower as he leans in closer. It's a secret, shared just between the two of them.]

😊

[mystracal]

[The flush across his face is definitely not the water temperature anymore. He has a more genuine laugh - just one.]

Nice to know you're looking out for me, and not just on account of my hygiene. I'd hate to have more to explain to her than I already do.

[sangwhine]

Though it would prove to be quite the distraction. Prying mothers love nothing more than some delicious scandal, hm?

[He strokes against the back of Gale's neck, kneading into some of the tension he finds there. Russ all may be rote for Astarion, but he's finding the wizard does have his charms.]

[mystracal]

[This is just Astarion being Astarion, Gale reminds himself as he leans into the vampire's hands, tension still knotted in his brow. He's seen him doing similar with their leader, using a mixture of cunning and cloying words to sweet talk them, trying to get into their good graces.

Exactly why, Gale's not sure, but he has his guesses. After all, he tried to ingratiate himself with the group as quickly as possible too, desperate not to have to face the threat of ceremorphosis alone.

He clears his throat, and dodges the subject.]

How long is this supposed to stay in my hair? The oil, I mean.

[sangwhine]

[Right, the oil. Gale's grooming. Astarion's gotten enough out of the wizard for this little venture. He removes his hands, reaching for the bucket again.]

Until just about now. Close your eyes, dear.

[And there's the rinse. He runs the water through Gale's hair a few times, working away the excess oil with his fingers, leaving it shiny and sleek.]

[mystracal]

[This is the cleanest Gale's hair has been in some time. He'll be far more appreciative when it's not all hanging in his face, a bit like a curtain.]

I hate to say this, but I might need to consider a haircut sometime soon.

[sangwhine]

We were going to do something about that beard of yours, weren't we? I do have a skilled hand with a blade.

[He does at least do Gale the favor of pushing his hair out of his face before reaching for a comb to start working through it.]

Shall I make a few cuts?

[mystracal]

[Gale looks as though he's about to immediately decline, but he pauses, his eyes momentarily meeting Astarion's as the vampire pushes his hair out of his face; he reconsiders in the second it takes to grab the comb.]

I suppose it couldn't hurt. Not too much, though. I feel the length is rather flattering on me when it's not hanging in my face, don't you?

[sangwhine]

As much as a dirty mop can be flattering, I suppose. But now that it's clean I must admit you would lose your scholarly charm if we cut it too short.

[And just like that he's back to making teasing little jabs at Gale. The comb is set aside as he picks up a short blade to start trimming.]

[mystracal]

[Ah, there's the Astarion he's more prepared for. At least Gale can handle the teasing jabs better than the lingering touches. He holds still while Astarion cuts, privately grateful they're back on familiar ground.]

I was short-haired and clean-shaven for some time. I think the beard is what will surprise my mother the most. Well, of what I intend to tell her.

[sangwhine]

Short-haired and clean-shaven? You must have looked like a newborn babe. Is that the sort that Mystra favors?

[Astarion can't push too hard if he wants this to work, after all. He needs to give Gale room to breathe, enough space so that he'll start to miss the touches and the flirtations.]

[mystracal]

[Gale laughs; despite everything, he still tries to paint Mystra in a good light.]

She favors those who have high degree of skill with the Weave, though in all fairness, that has been me since I was a babe.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion pauses, considering]

Well, I suppose that is the problem one has when one's lover is an immortal being of divinity.

[mystracal]

[He gives an indistinct noise of agreement, the ache in his chest keeping him from thinking too hard on Mystra - or perhaps that's the orb acting up. Either way, it's discomfort, and he's not ready to face it, certainly not while naked in Astarion's tent.]

A problem for anyone longer-lived than I'll be, I imagine. Add that to the list of things not to tell my mother.

[sangwhine]

Yes, it might be wise to avoid the "I will surely die an early death and am not long for this world" sort of thing around her.

[mystracal]

Probably for the best.

[A beat, his brow knitting.]

Were this your mother, what would you say to her?

[sangwhine]

[There's no way that Gale can miss the way Astarion freezes at those words. His hand stops, his entire body deathly still for a lengthy pause. When he speaks, his tone is completely changed from the lighthearted teasing and flirtations into something rough and forced.]

I'm going to let you think about what you just said and whether that's a question you truly want to ask.

[mystracal]

[Yep, there is no missing that. Gale's eyes flick toward Astarion, his mouth tightening. Despite the fact he's aware he's in dangerous territory again, he can't help himself this time. He keeps his tone steady, even.]

It was a sincere question, Astarion. Assuming you wouldn't tell her all you've been through, I was just... curious as to what kind of conversation you'd have. Or try to have, rather.

[sangwhine]

[He drops the blade abruptly, pushing himself up from the basin and away from Gale. His voice is suddenly sharp and angry, his hands cutting through the air as he gestures.]

Oh, a lovely hypothetical to sate your curiosity, is it? What kind of conversation would it be, between a son two hundred years dead and the mother who never spared him a second thought even when he lived.

I wouldn't have a conversation with her, Gale. I can't even remember her name.

[mystracal]

[Gale's brow furrows, his body tensing; those eyes, once searching for any way to avoid Astarion, are now locked on him. He opens his mouth to speak, only to second guess himself.]

I'm— [he shakes his head; his gaze darts away for a second before returning, full of genuine remorse.] My apologies, Astarion. I... should have thought about that. Should have considered it.

[He falls quiet, realizing all too late that he knows so little about Astarion - and making a private vow to remedy that in the future.]

[sangwhine]

Well, forethought and consideration for others have never been your strong suits, have they?

[He gives Gale a thin-lipped smile, the barb intended to hurt, even though he might very well be razing any progress he's made in their time together today. But he can't let it burn away completely, he has to control himself.

His hands clench into fists, nails dragging against his palms, the next words carefully enunciated to contain the venom in his voice.]

I think that you can handle yourself from here, since you've already proven yourself quite capable in availing yourself of my belongings.

[mystracal]

Of course.

[He kicks himself inwardly, angry, frustrated at his incredible ability to push people away, no matter how badly he wants to know them better. He could be the most intelligent, powerful wizard in all the Realms, and he'd still be perfectly capable of making a fool of himself.

He pushes his hair out of his face, a few loose clippings falling from it into the water. It somehow feels colder than when he got in. ]

I'll just- finish up. I appreciate your help. Truly.

[sangwhine]

Don't leave any more of a mess than you already have.

[Astarion turns, leaving Gale in his tent without another word.]

[mystracal]

[Indeed he doesn't. By the time Astarion returns, everything is back where it started, from the oil to the blade. Gale even took the time to fill the basin with clean water, just in case. He dares not leave that tent anything but perfect after his faux pas. A part of him wants to chalk it up to Astarion being as dramatic as ever, but it's difficult when said dramatics are aimed at him, and are - most importantly - his fault.

No, Astarion had every right to be angry, and unlike his flirtations, that anger felt real. Real, painful, and incredibly raw in a way that he's rarely seen from the vampire. They don't spend much time in one another's company, unfortunately. And maybe they never will, Gale considers.

He doesn't come over to tell Astarion how his date went, but he leaves a little something for when he returns that he hopes will smooth the waters: a fine bottle of Undermountain Alurlyath.]