🔮 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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[mystracal]

Good. I'm afraid you're stuck with me, so you'd have to get used to it otherwise.

[Gale kisses the top of Astarion's head once, then twice. That weariness is impossible to miss.]

[sangwhine]

[Astarion frowns, pushing himself up and turning just enough so he can look Gale in the eye.]

I am not stuck with you, Gale Dekarios. I chose you. And I would not have anyone else.

[mystracal]

[Gale can't help but laugh - despite all the emotions he's had wearing on him over the course of the day, Astarion still manages to find a little more energy for determined defiance.]

And I couldn't be happier for it. You chose me, you chose to remain who you are and not ascend, and... and I...

[He pauses, hesitating as a consideration he's been avoiding floats back into his mind. His eyes fall, brow tightening.]

I can't choose the crown.

[sangwhine]

[It does bring a smile to Astarion's face to hear Gale's laughter, despite everything. Though it fades rather quickly with his next words. He reaches up to cup Gale's cheek in his hand, tilting his face back up to look at him properly.]

For us to remain as equals, you mean?

[mystracal]

[His eyes flick to Astarion, the corner of his mouth curling in a rueful smile.]

Yes. For us to remain equals. If it came to a choice... I would choose you. I would choose you every time. Choose us.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion leans forward, kissing the crease in Gale's brow as if he could soothe it away so simply.]

You are more to me than any god could ever be. You don't need to be any more than you are now for me to love you, to want to stay with you.

[mystracal]

[Gale bites his lip, feeling the weight of his own words now that they've been spoken aloud; they are all the more real for it.]

But I could be so much more for you. I could do so much good for this world. For you.

[And yet, there's an iota of doubt creeping into his tone, pulling at his lips so that his nose curls.]

[sangwhine]

[There's a beat as Astarion looks to him, studying Gale's expression.]

But what would be the cost, dearest?

[mystracal]

[His lips pull themselves into a thin line.]

There have been many gods who were mortals once, including the Dead Three and Karsus himself. While they all sought power for less noble purposes than I, what we have in common is ambition. It drives me just as it did them, an insatiable call for more power, no matter the cost.

[Gale remembers all too well the night Astarion had to throw himself at him to steal his attention from the book - and how uncomfortable it had made his partner.]

I thought I'd learned my lesson when I became host to the orb, but the more I thought about the crown, what I could do with it - what I would do with it - the more I wondered what would become of me once I had it. Would those noble intentions remain? Would I be capable of loving you? Or would I end up just as unfeeling as Mystra, no longer able to understand love the way I once had?

I had- [he laughs sadly, a quiet single breath pushed from the back of his throat] -I had thought, were we equals, there'd be no need for such concerns. I would never feel inadequate next to you, unworthy. And you would be so powerful that you could draw my attention whenever you wanted it.

[He shakes his head.]

I think had you gone through with the ritual, you'd have lost a piece of your soul, if not all of it. And I'm not entirely certain the same wouldn't happen to me were I to become a god.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion listens to him, quiet and intent, until the very end. He purses his lips before letting out a heavy sigh.]

As it turns out, seeking incredible power comes with its own consequences.

I could feel myself slipping, when I pulled him from his sleep. I could see him in my actions, hear him in my thoughts. I think that, had I completed the ritual, I would no longer have been myself.

[He looks up to Gale, his expression somber but gentle.]

Were you to become a god, I don't know if you would be the man I've come to love.

[mystracal]

[Gale brings a hand from around Astarion to caress the side of his face.]

Then I won't become a god. I don't want to lose that man, Gale Dekarios. I don't want to lose you.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion gives a faint smile, turning to kiss Gale's palm.]

Then, I'm afraid you're stuck with me, darling.

[mystracal]

Not stuck with you, Astarion. I'm choosing you, just as you chose me.

[His arm still around Astarion's back pulls him just a hair closer; the orb glimmers from beneath his wet clothes.]

And I would not have anyone else.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion smiles and shifts closer, leaning in to close his lips over Gale's for a gentle kiss. His hand trails back, threading through the damp hair at the nape of Gale's neck, holding him close.]

[mystracal]

[Gale is all too happy to return that kiss, then steal another of his own. He leans back as far as the basin will allow, his back braced against the wall behind him, his legs bent so that they fit in the tub. Even with his spell, it's cozy, at best.

Not that he minds too much. He enjoys that closeness.]

I suppose we should finish getting you cleaned up.

[sangwhine]

Yes, I suppose I am still rather covered in blood.

[He pauses, one fang indenting his lower lip as he looks back up to Gale.]

But I do seem to recall you quite enjoy that.

[mystracal]

[The tops of his ears redden, matching the color of his soggy shirt.]

All the more reason I love you, and could never leave you even if I wanted: you know me entirely too well.

[sangwhine]

Mmh, I do know all your dirty little secrets, yes.

[He pulls away from Gale, retrieving the cloth and pressing it into his hands.]

I think that you had some work to finish.

[mystracal]

[He grins.]

That I do.

[It's mostly along Astarion's chest, an area that was hidden when he was folded upon himself. He dips the cloth and wrings it lightly before getting back to work, scrubbing along Astarion's chest, removing some of the last vestiges of Cazador's blood.]

[sangwhine]

[Gale's touch feels so much better now that Astarion is more present in his body. He looks down to the muddied water, running a hand through it in contemplation.]

What a mess this all made.

[mystracal]

I'm sure you never expected this to be the price of your freedom: a bloody bath and a water-logged wizard.

[He leans out of the tub, grabbing the carafe of water on the nearby table. Setting the one washcloth aside, he conjures a fresh one before using the clean water to rinse the crimson droplets from Astarion's hair.]

I could always call Shadowheart in here to purify the water for us.

[sangwhine]

[Oh, good. Astarion shakes his head slightly scattering the water and blood.]

I think that I would rather just throw it out.

And get you out of those clothes.

[mystracal]

[In good news, Astarion is as clean as he's going to get for now. In bad news, Gale is still drenched.]

A wise choice. I don't regret joining you, but I would feel better in something dry.

[He'll wait for Astarion to stand before he does, but he does conjure towels for them like the ever-helpful boyfriend he is.]

[sangwhine]

I'm grateful you did. Your presence is always a comfort.

[He takes the towel, leaning in to kiss the corner of Gale's lips before he sets about drying his hair and scrubbing the last of the blood from his skin.]

[mystracal]

I'm only glad it seemed to help. I would do anything for you.

[That kiss helps keep Gale's heart light; he's glad to see Astarion acting more like himself. It will take time to heal, time they should have plenty of once the tadpoles are gone and he's given the crown to Mystra. Gale intends to be with him every step of the way.

He eases to his feet, peeling out of his clothing and leaving it hanging at the side of the basin. Wiping off what traces he had of blood on him - not nearly as much as Astarion - he wraps the towel around himself and steps out of the tub, eyeing his soggy garments. He's going to run out of camp clothes at this rate.]