🔮 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]

[He likes that even more, leaning into it as he slides a hand over Astarion's. He turns his back to the vampire, taking that hand with him, encouraging him to wrap his arms around him. Your turn to be the big spoon, Astarion.]

I'll start on what we need tomorrow. I believe with what we have here and what I gathered today, we'll have plenty to experiment, at the very least.

[sangwhine]

[Big spoon time for Astarion, yes. He shifts only slightly to get comfortable, tightening his arm around Gale to bring him close, his nose buried in the nape of Gale's neck.]

As long as your experiments aren't too vile, I'll be your eager taste tester.

[mystracal]

While I'm confident I can't possibly taste any worse than I do now, I'll be careful with the measurements.

[A beat, his brow knitting out of Astarion's sight.]

I want to be able to sustain you, once this is all over. To at least be a source nourishment in an emergency. Seeing those other spawn today - the hunger in their eyes...

[He puts his arm on Astarion's around him, uncomfortable with the thought. He understands better than most the desperation a supernatural hunger can cause.]

[sangwhine]

[Nice job putting a damper on the mood, Gale. But Astarion does understand the sentiment. He squeezes his arm around Gale in a pulse, kissing the nape of his neck.]

Those spawn had been starved. Denied the chance to feed. Some of them for centuries. It won't come to that for me, I promise.

[mystracal]

[Kill the mood: it's what Gale does if given enough time to linger in his own head. He revels in that embrace, that little kiss.]

Luck favors the prepared. I'd feel better if you could feed from me all the same. If you would feed from me.

[sangwhine]

I do want to taste you. Though ideally in less dire circumstances.

[He gives a small sigh, putting his lips to the crook of Gale's neck.]

I'd want it in a moment like this. To be able to simply sink my teeth into you, to taste the heat in your blood from the passion we've shared.

[mystracal]

[Gale sighs as well, arching his neck for Astarion's lips.]

You make it sound so tantalizingly intimate when you put it that way. Not that I haven't imagined it as such a time or two.

[sangwhine]

It can be quite an intimate affair if we're nice and comfortable.

[He finds Gale's hand with his, threading their fingers together. All this talk of blood is reminding him that it's been a little while since he's fed properly. Not that it's too difficult for him to find prey in the city. Especially not now with enemies at every turn. Yet Gale has set his mind wandering now, a thought crossing it that he catches hold of.]

Though it does beg a question, of sorts. Feeding on your blood, standing in the sun. Of course both can't measure up to my desire to simply remain at your side.

But suppose we are successful in all our heroic world saving pursuits. Where would that be?

[mystracal]

[Oh, this is something Gale's thought about a time or two, but usually, it was in the context of them both being in roles so akin to gods that physical location ultimately wouldn't matter. With them both as they are - an eternal spawn and a mortal wizard - what will they do once all is said and done with the Elder Brain?]

Assuming I am free of the orb, I had hoped to return to Waterdeep. I have my tower, and family.

[Remember his mother? Yes, that family.]

[sangwhine]

[Ah yes, Gale's family, his tower, his city. Astarion gives a soft hum, nuzzling softly at the soft spot behind Gale's ear.]

A tower does seem a safe place for a vampire. Provided you don't have too many windows.

[mystracal]

[That nuzzle pushes a chuckled out of him. That tickles, Astarion.]

They can always be shuttered. Covered with an assortment of thick, decorative curtains. Or, perhaps, I'll have finished that enchantment for you.

[sangwhine]

[What's a little tickle? Astarion drops a kiss to the spot, lingering a moment.]

The enchantment would be lovely, but I'll happily help you with an appropriate selection of curtains. Waterdeep surely has much to offer by way of quality fabrics.

[mystracal]

[He shifts in Astarion's grasp, doing his best to fight his body's natural reaction.]

It is the City of City of Splendors, though it has apparently been wasted on me until now in regards to fashion. You'll be there to help with that, too.

[A beat as a thought occurs to him.]

Gods, what will I say to my mother?

[sangwhine]

[What will he say? Astarion feels a coil of nervous energy in his stomach. He's certain of his ability to charm any woman, but these circumstances are quite different.]

How would one go about introducing one's paramour to their family, hm? Tell her the charming story of how we met. How we were drawn together by aberrant tadpoles. How you absconded with my undergarments and by the hand of circumstances it led you to fall for me.

[mystracal]

For one, I'm not going to tell my mother about the tadpoles. I haven't quite broached the topic of the orb yet.

[And by 'haven't quite,' he means he's not touching that until the orb is gone.]

And two, she's a fairly perceptive woman. She'll know what you are the moment she lays eyes on you.

[sangwhine]

And what do you think she will have to say about that?

[Astarion's aiming for disaffected in his tone, but there's a small thread of worry that runs through it. He doesn't want to quite face the thought of what happens if Gale's mother doesn't approve.]

[mystracal]

I can't say. My mother's only ever cared for my happiness. I like to think she'd see how you make me feel rather than what you are.

[But oh, he heard that sliver of worry.]

Astarion, are you concerned about what my mother will think of you?

[sangwhine]

[Don't call attention to it, Gale. Astarion shifts somewhat, pressing himself closer to Gale's back.]

It's a perfectly reasonable worry, isn't it? Seeking the approval of the family of one's beloved.

[mystracal]

I'd say so, especially when that family is Morena Dekarios.

[He gives Astarion's arm around him a reassuring pat.]

No matter what she thinks, it wouldn't change my feelings for you. I'd only worry what she might ask.

[sangwhine]

If you're worried, we can always agree upon our answers beforehand. Ensure that she can't catch us in a lie or omission of truth.

[He drums his fingers lightly against Gale's chest, considering this.]

[mystracal]

I'm a poor liar, and you know it. Moreover, I doubt we can prepare for everything she'd ask.

[sangwhine]

Then, what do you propose? For when I should meet your mother.

[mystracal]

[He thinks for only a second, the span of a heartbeat.]

I think you should be yourself. I'll worry about what I'll say to her, yes, but I'd rather she see you for the man you are. The man I love.

[He smiles lopsidedly to himself.]

She'd want me to be happy, and you want me to be happy. You two might actually get along better than expected, if given the chance.

[sangwhine]

I would hope we would be given the chance, should we survive all this.

[He settles, moving his hand to rest over Gale's heart.]

I have promised you as many days together as we might have.

[mystracal]

[Pulsing in time with the orb, Gale's heartbeat is warm and calm, steady as opposed to the thundering rhythm it so often beats in Astarion's company. Though he tries not to let it bleed into his voice, Gale can't help but wonder just how many days in each other's company they might have, even if they do survive all they face. Mystra had implied she'd remove the orb if he brought her the crown, so perhaps they'll have more than Gale thinks.

... but she hadn't said it outright, had she? Surely the goddess who demanded his death for some semblance of forgiveness wouldn't make promises she doesn't intend to keep.

That's a distressing thought, and one Gale doesn't want to ponder a moment longer, knowing just how heavy his heart will become if he does. He wants to rest in Astarion's arms, enjoy the evening, revel in his newfound freedom and the intimacy they've shared. Gale wants his love to carry him farther than the orb may ever allow.

It's a bridge they will cross eventually, but not now. Not tonight. He takes a deep breath - from beyond the tent comes the smell of food, as Wyll has apparently finished cooking.]

I suppose we should join the others. They'll no doubt want to celebrate your victory.