🔮 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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[sangwhine]

But you would put yourself at that risk, would you? You would have me watch you bleed out on the streets instead?

[He releases one of Gale's hands in a sweeping, emphatic gesture towards the bloodstains still on the grounds of their camp, on Gale's shirt.]

[mystracal]

Yes.

[His nose wrinkles as he feels the need to clarify.]

I would have been fine, Astarion. Clothing can be replaced, and I can be healed. Getting you back from Cazador before he could hurt you would have been a feat.

[Of course, there are the matters of if the orb would have destabilized upon his death, if Mystra's charm would hold in the event of his throat being ripped out, what would have happened if Shadowheart hadn't been there, etc. Variables he knows good and well he should have considered, but couldn't at that moment.]

[sangwhine]

[Astarion turns again, pulling Gale through the flap of his tent before releasing his hand. He drags a hand through his hair instead, pacing the short distance of the tent in an anxious loop.]

what in the hells makes you think that's an acceptable answer? "Yes, Astarion, I'd gladly let myself die to spare you any harm." Do you have any idea how that sounds?

[mystracal]

[Gale turns, facing the entrance of the tent as Astarion paces in front of him, his back nearly against the far wall.]

That's always been my answer, Astarion. Even—

[Cutting himself off, Gale tries to swallow the know forming in his throat, but finds it impossibly dry. His voice feels small as it hides in his chest; he forces it out.]

... Even before there was an us to consider. If I had needed to walk away from our group because I felt I could no longer control the hunger of the orb, I'd have done so for everyone's safety without a second thought. When we first found out about the brain, I would have detonated myself not merely for Mystra's forgiveness, but because I felt it would give my death meaning to protect everyone I've come to care for. And if I thought for one second that putting myself in harm's way would keep you safe from Cazador, then I would risk it.

[sangwhine]

[The quieter tone of Gale's voice draws Astarion's attention. He looks to Gale, frowning at the emotion, the conflicted feelings he sees there. With a single step he closes the distance between them, reaching to take one of Gale's hands in both of his.]

Your life is supposed to have meaning, you damned fool, not your death. Mystra may have wanted to see you throw yourself upon the sword without a moment's hesitation, but I don't. There's enough out there trying to kill us that it doesn't need you helping it along.

[mystracal]

No, I suppose it doesn't.

[His clasped hand squeezes at Astarion's, his free one curling against itself. The orb still glows, betraying his feelings no matter how much he tries to stifle them. He never has been good at hiding his emotions, each one etching a line across his face.]

I ought to have considered how you'd feel about me throwing myself into danger for you, but it slipped my mind when your kin surrounded you like a pack of gnolls ready to kill. [He pauses, steeling himself with a breath.] I wasn't thinking then, and I'm clearly not thinking well enough now with the blood loss, but I know this: I cannot bear to lose you.

[sangwhine]

[Gale can be quite easy to read when Astarion takes the time, it's true. Here, in the privacy of his tent, he finally has more than a moment to do so. That's how he knows Gale is being genuine. Even though he doesn't know quite how to respond with his own heart twisted out of shape and suddenly too heavy in his chest.]

You won't lose me, not that easily. But, by the hells...don't leave me without you instead. I want you at my side, Gale. For all the sunrises and kisses and times to remind you that you're worthy of it. Don't you understand that?

[There's a waver to his voice that he doesn't bother to hide. He needs Gale to know how important this is, how much he matters.]

[mystracal]

[That uncharacteristic waver in Astarion's voice tells Gale all he needs to know - what he was trying to deny. His free hand finds its way to Astarion's jaw, his knuckles brushing across his cheek.]

I do. It's a matter of reminding myself that I'm not entirely expendable, a bad habit I picked up upon Elminster's delivery of Mystra's charm. As much as I fear losing you - want to protect you - I don't want to harm you, either... and my loss would certainly accomplish that. My passion outweighed my good sense. Forgive my recklessness.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion heaves a sigh, his discomfort with this entire scenario quite clear. He turns to Gale's hand, dropping a kiss to his wrist.]

I won't hold your passions against you, dearest. Just think of yourself when we find ourselves in danger again.

At least now we know what my siblings are capable of. And the sort of lies that Cazador has been telling them.

[mystracal]

[Gale's wrist is a little seared from the electricity he tossed at Astarion's siblings, the magic having been wild, unexpectedly intense; that kiss was needed.]

Is there any hope of saving them?

[sangwhine]

Not if I'm to ascend. The ritual will require their sacrifice.

[He's very flippant about it, uncaring for their fates.]

[mystracal]

[And despite that they've also been the subject of Cazador's torture, Gale doubts Astarion feels any amount of sympathy for his siblings, especially in light of the painful injuries still visible on his neck. The skin is healed over just enough to stop the bleeding, but it's still fresh, thin, and terribly bruised. The blood on his shirt isn't even dry, traces of it lingering on both his hands and Astarion's where the vampire gripped him.]

I suppose if nothing else, that will serve as a fatal lesson to them for the mess they made tonight... even if the attack wasn't entirely their fault.

[sangwhine]

[There's not a hint of sympathy in his tone, no. He releases Gale's hand, reaching up to rub at a streak of blood still left on Gale's neck, like he's trying to remove the mark of Leon on him.]

They remain under his compulsion. It's not as though they could have done anything to resist him. Though they seemed perfectly happy to be fed his lies.

[mystracal]

[Try as he might to stifle it, the slightest flinch gets through at Astarion's touch, Gale's neck tensing as his lip curls. Shadowheart might have closed the wound, but the mark of Astarion's brother is still there.]

Even if they weren't compelled, they'd be desperate for any hint of freedom, no matter how empty the promise of it. I'm sure you know that well.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion notes the flinch and pulls his hand away. He releases Gale so that he can retrieve some water and a rag to clean him up.]

I would be the same as them, were it not for our wriggling friend. But I am more than them now, I can take what's his and make it mine.

[mystracal]

[It happens in an instant: Astarion moves away from him, and Gale grabs his pale arm immediately, reflexively. His eyes remain on Astarion until embarrassment colors him, and he lets him go.]

Don't go too far.

[sangwhine]

[Oh. Astarion startles a moment, then turns and takes Gale's hand in his.]

I'm not leaving you. I only wanted to do something about all the blood.

[True to his word, he keeps his hold on Gale while he's readying the basin.]

[mystracal]

[Gale closes his eyes as Astarion readies the basin. Despite that he feels childish, clingy, needy in that moment, he refuses to let go a second time. He couldn't will himself to do it if he wanted to.]

I don't know what I'd have done if they'd taken you.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion won't begrudge him this, he keeps his hold tight on Gale as he tugs him over to sit on a cushion, pulling at the edge of his dirty tunic to get it up and off.]

You'd have come for me, obviously. I've no doubt in my mind of that.

[mystracal]

But what if he'd performed the ritual before we could find you? What if you were lost to me forever?

[He eases onto the cushion, finally releasing Astarion's hand so he can pull his shirt off. There's no protest, no shyness or hesitation, none of his casual flirting that usually accompanies his undressing in front of Astarion; his mind is wandering through the what-ifs of the past and potential attacks of the future.]

[sangwhine]

Gale, dearest. Let's maybe not let our thoughts linger too long on things that haven't come to pass, hm?

[His tone is gentle, trying to coax Gale away from those thoughts as he begins to wipe away the blood and dirt from Gale's skin.]

[mystracal]

[He does his best not to flinch this time around as Astarion goes near his neck. He pulls in a breath, steadying himself.]

I can see now how grief and loss drove Ketheric Thorm mad.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion's quiet a moment, considering the sentiment as he wipes blood from Gale's chest, wringing the towel clean.]

It does have an appeal. Seizing the power to ensure that nothing is ever taken from you again.

[mystracal]

[His eyes flick upward, searching for Astarion's gaze.]

But at what cost? You'll be sacrificing your kin, Thorm sold his soul to any god who would listen. I wonder what the cost will be for me, when the time comes.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion meets his gaze, his own expression coldly determined.]

My kin are a cost I'm willing to pay for that safety.