[A very nice and soft wizard pillow. Astarion has head so many hearts beat their last that it's a wonder to him that he can be this close to Gale's and know that it won't snuff out so easily. He closes his eyes to let its beat echo in his ear, gently stroking his fingers through the soft hair on Gale's chest.]
[Astarion's touch on his chest make his skin tingle, the whorls of his hair standing on end as his pale fingers brush through them. He wraps his arm around Astarion's back, holding him close.]
Will you sleep tonight? After all you've been through today, you could likely use it.
[Gale can't help but smile, his chest jostling as he lets out a single, quiet laugh.]
I'm not sure how chatty I'll be tonight, but who am I to deny you the opportunity for a lecture, should there be one?
[He closes his eyes, trying not to think about the effects of the potion, and how much more he can feel them now that he's not distracted. Some sleep will do him good to fight the fever.]
Don't let me sleep too long, will you? There's something I'd like to do in the morning before the day's plans get underway. Assuming our leader has a plan, of course.
[He can only assume most plans were delayed by his kidnapping.]
If it's anything that requires your assistance I will have to politely decline on your behalf. I'm not letting you out of my sight for at least another day or two.
[His tone is light as he says it, but Gale would know him well enough to know he's completely serious. His hand finds Gale's, lacing their fingers together with a soft squeeze.]
But rest assured, I'll wake you before the midday bells, my dearest.
[Gale returns that squeeze, knowing that for all the levity he's putting on, Astarion is deadly serious about that remark.
The thought is as heartening as it is heartbreaking. From what Gale knows of Astarion, he knows the spawn has rarely had anything of his own, anything he wanted protect other than himself - and that's when he could protect himself. Gods, he can't imagine what he felt, discovering his lover had been taken, not being able to go right then and there to save him —
To think someone cares for his well-being that much — more than the goddess who asked him to sacrifice himself for her forgiveness — makes Gale's heart flutter anew in his chest. Astarion might never let him out of his sight again, and a part of Gale thinks he'd be perfectly okay with that.
But those are thoughts for another day, for when his fever breaks and his exhaustion is abated.]
I'm trusting you on that.
[He expects to be awoken in time to at least make breakfast, but suspects Astarion will let him sleep for as long as he pleases.]
[Astarion will absolutely be a man of his word about fiercely protecting Gale's rest. But that's after his trance. Honestly, he finds that he's nearly lulled completely to sleep with the slow beat of Gale's heart in his ear and the feverish warmth of his body beneath him. But after his few hours of rest he remains where he is, feeling the rise and fall of Gale's chest beneath their joined hands.
It's Wyll, rather than their leader, who comes to their little of the corner of the inn first thing in the morning. Astarion absolutely isn't above giving the man a very pointed glare at even the suggestion that Gale be on breakfast duty the day after his kidnapping. Not to mention the fact that there's an entire damn tavern with a fully functional kitchen beneath them. Word spreads from Wyll to their leader, as it should, and both Gale and Astarion are left undisturbed well into the late morning.]
[Gale would thank Astarion for his consideration, but he sleeps like the absolute dead until late morning, not stirring but once or twice when something in his dreams sees fit to bother him. Though he probably needed rest, he'll be embarrassed all the same, even if he wasn't needed for breakfast.
When he finally does wake, it's with a start: he opens his eyes, realizes he doesn't recognize where he is, and has a mild moment of panic as he sits up, recalls being taken, Orin, then—
Astarion. The inn. He's safe - they're safe.
He can apologize to any vampires he may have dislodged from his chest once he gets his bearings.]
[It is a bit of a rude awakening, given how Astarion had let his mind wander off while tracing the lines of the Netherese orb against Gale's neck. He is a rogue, though, so his quick reflexes keep him from tumbling off the bed entirely. A beat later he registers the panic in Gale's eyes, unable to stop it from echoing in his own mind. A nightmare? A call from Mystra? The orb? He grabs Gale's wrist, squeezing tight as one hand goes to his cheek.]
[He shakes his head before leaning into Astarion's hand, squeezing his eyes shut.]
I'm fine. Just —[he swallows hard, offering Astarion a reassuring, albeit nervous smile]— a momentary panic. I forgot where I was. Forgot that I'd been rescued.
[He fights his anxiety, riled by his dreams, finally shaking it off as best he can. It's morning, and he has work to do. He notes how quiet the room is.]
[Astarion brushes that hand through Gale's hair, soothing him. He understands all too well how an unconscious thought can stir itself up into a panic. He leans in to press a firm kiss to Gale's temple, a reassurance of his presence. Gale's safe here.]
A little before midday. They're off on their adventures.
[Astarion waves a dismissive hand at the empty room. It's nothing for Gale to worry himself over.]
I didn't want them to disturb you, so we've been left to our own devices.
[Ah, the dismissive wave that sums up just how much Astarion cares for what the rest of the party is doing as opposed to spending the day with his boyfriend - it brings a genuine smile to Gale's face.
No, not boyfriend. Fiancé. Betrothed, intended. The future Mr. Astarion Dekarios. All far more suitable titles.]
I'm sure you were quite kind to whomever came to check on us, so long as it was Karlach.
[And woe be to anyone else. He stretches, his joints cracking.]
I'd suggest we do something pragmatic to help the rest of them, given we are on a tight schedule, but... I don't think one day away from the dangers ahead would delay us by much.
[Especially because they're likely to face the Brain any day now. Perhaps a day to themselves would be best, given it might be their last.]
Given the hour Wyll chose to attempt to wake you, he deserved every bit of the utter lack of kindness that I gave him.
[That smile could warm Astarion's heart for days. He tucks it away in his mind for later, in favor of giving Gale an appreciative look as he stretches. He is lovely like this, lit by the midday sun streaming in through the tavern's windows.]
I feel that I've done more than my fair share of pragmatic assistance as of late, thank you. Let's indulge ourselves, dearest.
These may be our last days. Our troubles can remain ahead of us for a little while longer.
[Whether Gale pays Astarion's appreciative look no heed or simply doesn't notice goes unsaid as he eases out of the bed, cleaning himself up before finding his clothes. He considers his better robe, a garment enchanted for protection rather than aesthetics, but ultimately chooses something a little more casual: a fine linen shirt, simple pants and boots, and a tasteful doublet with pale diamonds in his signature violet. It's fancier than his usual camp clothing, but not so ostentatious as to draw unwanted attention from anyone else who may be looking to attack and/or kidnap them.
He's not sure how many enemies they have in the city remaining, but he likes to err on the side of caution.]
And if we're to die horribly, best to fill what remains with ribald debauchery.
[It's a morbid thought, but Astarion's playful in the way he says it. Even if Gale hasn't paid much heed to Astarion's attention on him, Astarion's still taking the time to look for his own benefit.
But as soon as Gale has donned his pants and shirt it does become less of a show. So Astarion finally pulls himself out of bed, attending to his own appearance. He matches Gale's level of dress quite easily, opting for a soft linen undershirt with a ruffled collar and his own doublet in a deep scarlet red. There's delicate embroidery of camellia blossoms across the chest and back of it, but done in red thread that nearly matches the color of the fabric so it's harder to see from afar. And, of course, Astarion can't resist slipping into a pair of well-fitted leather pants.]
[Astarion might admire Gale more with his clothes off, but the wizard can't help but give an appreciative look toward Astarion once he's donned his outfit for the day. He doesn't have nearly the fashionable choices his partner does, and considers that he really should take him up on a trip to the tailor at some point - perhaps after their adventure, or perhaps even today.
There is something he wants to do first, though.]
If the debauchery can wait a little longer, there is something I need to find at our former camp. I daresay I ought not go there on my own though, given what happened last time. While I doubt anyone will be looking for us there now, there's something to be said about safety in numbers.
[And Astarion wouldn't let him do otherwise, he knows.]
[Astarion pauses, twisting a strand of hair to set it in place. It's a nervous gesture. He catches himself in it a moment later, dropping his hand to curl his fingers into a loose fist.]
While we're out in the city, there's something I'd like to show you as well. Unless you had other plans for our time.
[He clearly perks up at the notion that Astarion would have something to show him, as well, a smile crossing him. He rubs the back of his neck; as his palm brushes the cut Orin left in his skin along the tendrils that rise from the orb, it stings just enough to give him pause. He should probably have Shadowheart take a look at those lacerations she left on him, just in case.
For later, though. Astarion seems a tad nervous, and while Gale can't discern the reason quite yet, he's eager to get their day started. He gestures to the door.]
[Astarion plays his nerves off with a smile. He's more than used to masking these things over, and really it's nothing that Gale needs to worry himself over. He makes a show of offering Gale his arm, more than happy to make a bit of a show of things.]
We shall, my dear.
[It's a little bit of a walk down to their old campsite near the docks, but Astarion just sees it as a chance to luxuriate in walking about town with a very attractive wizard on his arm. His intended, no less. It's strange to think that an act as simple as wandering the streets he used to lurk in the darkness can have this sort of effect on him. That Gale has this sort of effect on him. There's a smile tugging at the corner of his lips the entire way, and he doesn't see much point in making an effort to hide it.]
[While Astarion has far and away been the less shy of the two of them in regards to what they do in the bedroom, Gale had worried he might be more... uncertain when it came to public appearances. From what Gale knows, this entire endeavor of a serious, romantic relationship is relatively novel for Astarion. His body was used as bait for his master, a lure to bring victims directly to Cazador; even the slightest of emotional attachments would have ended in ruin, warped Astarion's defense mechanisms even more than they already are at times. Until the recent death of the vampire lord, the threat their own bond might be weaponized against them in some way was very real. Hells, Orin had found a way to do it herself.
So for Astarion to be so openly affectionate, walking arm-in-arm with Gale, a smile painted across him the whole way is truly wonderful. The wizard's heart flutters as they exit the inn and make their way down the road, walking past the midday crowds; people glance their direction, thinking little of the two of them. For just a little while, it all feels so... blissfully normal, like they're not facing the end of the world.
And as Gale gives Astarion's arm a squeeze, he has to fight the urge to admit how badly he's wanted this - how for so long, he thought such simple domesticity would be utterly denied to him. Mystra wasn't interested in such things as marriage and physical bodies, after all - she wasn't even interested in being equals. His previous lovers, all people who valued his magic more than him as a person, would have considered such pursuits beneath his capabilities. What Gale wanted and who he was weren't worth much until Astarion.
One had been wanted for his body, and the other for his magic - neither at all for who they truly are until now. They really are a pair.
Gale can't help himself eventually, and starts chattering as they walk. First, it's about different the streets of Baldur's Gate are from Waterdeep, how the owners of various stalls might work together in coordinating colors and patterns to make their alley more visually appealing to attract potential customers; as they draw closer to the docks, he paints a vivid picture of the sunsets they'll see over the harbor, of the emblems and crests that fly upon the mercantile ships that make their way into the bay each morning and night.
As they reach their former camp, Gale leads them around the outskirts of it, toward the hills and trees that line the back - where Orin took him. He quiets as get closer, feeling lingering apprehension dry in his throat.]
[Astarion does love the sound of Gale's voice. Especially as he expounds upon the joys that Waterdeep has to offer. There's a strange flutter in his chest hearing it, knowing that the city is Gale's home and, should they survive all that lies before them, will be his home. The thought of putting Baldur's Gate and all the unpleasant memories it houses behind him is a very appealing one. He can simply walk away now. He has that freedom. And it's thanks in no small part to Gale himself.
The constant of Gale's idle chatter only makes it all the more obvious when he falls quiet. Astarion finds the wizard's hand with his, threading their fingers together to give him a soft squeeze.]
[Gale gives Astarion a quick glance, one meant to acknowledge his question, but the worry in his brow likely betrays the sudden anxiety he feels as he looks to the grass, only for his gaze to be drawn to the trees. His mind is pulled back to that moment: thinking with his heart instead of his head, he followed who he believed was Astarion away from camp with hardly a second thought, eagerly trailing behind him toward what he hoped would be a romantic moment for the two of them. With Cazador no longer looming over him, Astarion was free to be anyone he wanted, to explore the person he was never allowed to be, and Gale was determined to be there with him along the way as his friend, his lover, his equal.
Oh, but Gale still wanted more, and he'd thought he might have the chance to ask for it; his hand had curled in on itself, holding the simple band tightly so he wouldn't lose it, tight enough to leave an imprint in his palm.
And then, he'd lost it anyway when he'd realized his error, a mistake that might take him to his grave. He'd thought in that moment that Orin attacked him not about the future, but of the present, particularly the immediate threat of his demise. It wouldn't just be his death, or that of his friends and numerous innocents in the city: it was Astarion who Gale worried about should the orb detonate. That would be the end of all of them, but most of all, a man whose life had only just begun - a man he loved, whom he'd promised everything.
Gale had despaired as he'd lost consciousness; his moments of lucidity in the time between his capture and his rescue were filled with pain from her blades, but nothing compared to the fear that tore at his heart. It had seemed so far away last night with his rescue and Astarion's company... but now, standing in the forest where it happened, he feels the disquieted anew, goosebumps rising along his flesh as he thinks once more about how close they came to losing one another.
He squeezes Astarion's hand, still smiling despite the knot in his brow.]
When I followed- well, who I thought was you out here, I brought something with me. I've been working on it for some time, and it's not finished, mind you...
[He releases Astarion's hand and moves away from him, his eyes scrutinizing the ground as he literally retraces his steps.]
I promised when all this was over, I'd ensure you could still walk in the sun.
[Astarion knows that worried look, the distant gaze of ghosts dogging his thoughts. Of course this spot would hold unpleasant memories for Gale, given how recently the events transpired. He waits until Gale turns his back before a sour scowl twists his features. Orin didn't suffer nearly enough for what she did.
But Gale's words quickly snap him out of his murderous daydreams, his attention drawn to the promise in them.]
You--you had something with you that would let me stay in the sun?
An unfinished something, a work-in-progress, but yes. Something that will hopefully help, once all the enchantments are in place.
[He searches the area a moment longer, exclaiming a quiet Ah-hah! when he finds what he's looking for near a tree. He thankfully misses that there's some of his own blood staining the grass nearby, remnants from the blow that rendered him unconscious. The bruise behind his temple, hidden along his hairline, is reminder enough.
Stooping to collect his item, Gale rights himself before turning back to Astarion: between his fingers, he holds a simple ring, half the band made of silver, the other gold - in the Waterdhavian tradition, of course.]
I wanted you to try it on. Make sure it fits before I start layering enchantments upon it. I'd hate to have done all this work only for you to not be able to wear it.
[Astarion's expression immediately perks up once he sees what Gale has in his hands. The proposal was very spur of the moment, but the sight of the ring solidifies it in his mind and his heart. He doesn't know if he's ever felt so full before, so present in a moment. It's not only a promise of his future together with Gale, but a promise that he won't lose what he has at this moment. The chance to feel the warmth of the sun on his face, to see his lover painted in such vivid color. Gale's gift promises him that. His face splits with a wide, genuine smile as he extends his hand to Gale.]
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Your body sings the sweetest lullaby, darling.
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Will you sleep tonight? After all you've been through today, you could likely use it.
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A trance will restore me. And if I slept, who would be audience to your nighttime discussions?
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I'm not sure how chatty I'll be tonight, but who am I to deny you the opportunity for a lecture, should there be one?
[He closes his eyes, trying not to think about the effects of the potion, and how much more he can feel them now that he's not distracted. Some sleep will do him good to fight the fever.]
Don't let me sleep too long, will you? There's something I'd like to do in the morning before the day's plans get underway. Assuming our leader has a plan, of course.
[He can only assume most plans were delayed by his kidnapping.]
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[His tone is light as he says it, but Gale would know him well enough to know he's completely serious. His hand finds Gale's, lacing their fingers together with a soft squeeze.]
But rest assured, I'll wake you before the midday bells, my dearest.
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The thought is as heartening as it is heartbreaking. From what Gale knows of Astarion, he knows the spawn has rarely had anything of his own, anything he wanted protect other than himself - and that's when he could protect himself. Gods, he can't imagine what he felt, discovering his lover had been taken, not being able to go right then and there to save him —
To think someone cares for his well-being that much — more than the goddess who asked him to sacrifice himself for her forgiveness — makes Gale's heart flutter anew in his chest. Astarion might never let him out of his sight again, and a part of Gale thinks he'd be perfectly okay with that.
But those are thoughts for another day, for when his fever breaks and his exhaustion is abated.]
I'm trusting you on that.
[He expects to be awoken in time to at least make breakfast, but suspects Astarion will let him sleep for as long as he pleases.]
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It's Wyll, rather than their leader, who comes to their little of the corner of the inn first thing in the morning. Astarion absolutely isn't above giving the man a very pointed glare at even the suggestion that Gale be on breakfast duty the day after his kidnapping. Not to mention the fact that there's an entire damn tavern with a fully functional kitchen beneath them. Word spreads from Wyll to their leader, as it should, and both Gale and Astarion are left undisturbed well into the late morning.]
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When he finally does wake, it's with a start: he opens his eyes, realizes he doesn't recognize where he is, and has a mild moment of panic as he sits up, recalls being taken, Orin, then—
Astarion. The inn. He's safe - they're safe.
He can apologize to any vampires he may have dislodged from his chest once he gets his bearings.]
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Gale—darling, I'm here. What is it?
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I'm fine. Just —[he swallows hard, offering Astarion a reassuring, albeit nervous smile]— a momentary panic. I forgot where I was. Forgot that I'd been rescued.
[He fights his anxiety, riled by his dreams, finally shaking it off as best he can. It's morning, and he has work to do. He notes how quiet the room is.]
What time is it? Is everyone gone already?
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A little before midday. They're off on their adventures.
[Astarion waves a dismissive hand at the empty room. It's nothing for Gale to worry himself over.]
I didn't want them to disturb you, so we've been left to our own devices.
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No, not boyfriend. Fiancé. Betrothed, intended. The future Mr. Astarion Dekarios. All far more suitable titles.]
I'm sure you were quite kind to whomever came to check on us, so long as it was Karlach.
[And woe be to anyone else. He stretches, his joints cracking.]
I'd suggest we do something pragmatic to help the rest of them, given we are on a tight schedule, but... I don't think one day away from the dangers ahead would delay us by much.
[Especially because they're likely to face the Brain any day now. Perhaps a day to themselves would be best, given it might be their last.]
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[That smile could warm Astarion's heart for days. He tucks it away in his mind for later, in favor of giving Gale an appreciative look as he stretches. He is lovely like this, lit by the midday sun streaming in through the tavern's windows.]
I feel that I've done more than my fair share of pragmatic assistance as of late, thank you. Let's indulge ourselves, dearest.
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[Whether Gale pays Astarion's appreciative look no heed or simply doesn't notice goes unsaid as he eases out of the bed, cleaning himself up before finding his clothes. He considers his better robe, a garment enchanted for protection rather than aesthetics, but ultimately chooses something a little more casual: a fine linen shirt, simple pants and boots, and a tasteful doublet with pale diamonds in his signature violet. It's fancier than his usual camp clothing, but not so ostentatious as to draw unwanted attention from anyone else who may be looking to attack and/or kidnap them.
He's not sure how many enemies they have in the city remaining, but he likes to err on the side of caution.]
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[It's a morbid thought, but Astarion's playful in the way he says it. Even if Gale hasn't paid much heed to Astarion's attention on him, Astarion's still taking the time to look for his own benefit.
But as soon as Gale has donned his pants and shirt it does become less of a show. So Astarion finally pulls himself out of bed, attending to his own appearance. He matches Gale's level of dress quite easily, opting for a soft linen undershirt with a ruffled collar and his own doublet in a deep scarlet red. There's delicate embroidery of camellia blossoms across the chest and back of it, but done in red thread that nearly matches the color of the fabric so it's harder to see from afar. And, of course, Astarion can't resist slipping into a pair of well-fitted leather pants.]
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There is something he wants to do first, though.]
If the debauchery can wait a little longer, there is something I need to find at our former camp. I daresay I ought not go there on my own though, given what happened last time. While I doubt anyone will be looking for us there now, there's something to be said about safety in numbers.
[And Astarion wouldn't let him do otherwise, he knows.]
A quick trip, I promise.
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[Astarion pauses, twisting a strand of hair to set it in place. It's a nervous gesture. He catches himself in it a moment later, dropping his hand to curl his fingers into a loose fist.]
While we're out in the city, there's something I'd like to show you as well. Unless you had other plans for our time.
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[He clearly perks up at the notion that Astarion would have something to show him, as well, a smile crossing him. He rubs the back of his neck; as his palm brushes the cut Orin left in his skin along the tendrils that rise from the orb, it stings just enough to give him pause. He should probably have Shadowheart take a look at those lacerations she left on him, just in case.
For later, though. Astarion seems a tad nervous, and while Gale can't discern the reason quite yet, he's eager to get their day started. He gestures to the door.]
Shall we?
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We shall, my dear.
[It's a little bit of a walk down to their old campsite near the docks, but Astarion just sees it as a chance to luxuriate in walking about town with a very attractive wizard on his arm. His intended, no less. It's strange to think that an act as simple as wandering the streets he used to lurk in the darkness can have this sort of effect on him. That Gale has this sort of effect on him. There's a smile tugging at the corner of his lips the entire way, and he doesn't see much point in making an effort to hide it.]
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So for Astarion to be so openly affectionate, walking arm-in-arm with Gale, a smile painted across him the whole way is truly wonderful. The wizard's heart flutters as they exit the inn and make their way down the road, walking past the midday crowds; people glance their direction, thinking little of the two of them. For just a little while, it all feels so... blissfully normal, like they're not facing the end of the world.
And as Gale gives Astarion's arm a squeeze, he has to fight the urge to admit how badly he's wanted this - how for so long, he thought such simple domesticity would be utterly denied to him. Mystra wasn't interested in such things as marriage and physical bodies, after all - she wasn't even interested in being equals. His previous lovers, all people who valued his magic more than him as a person, would have considered such pursuits beneath his capabilities. What Gale wanted and who he was weren't worth much until Astarion.
One had been wanted for his body, and the other for his magic - neither at all for who they truly are until now. They really are a pair.
Gale can't help himself eventually, and starts chattering as they walk. First, it's about different the streets of Baldur's Gate are from Waterdeep, how the owners of various stalls might work together in coordinating colors and patterns to make their alley more visually appealing to attract potential customers; as they draw closer to the docks, he paints a vivid picture of the sunsets they'll see over the harbor, of the emblems and crests that fly upon the mercantile ships that make their way into the bay each morning and night.
As they reach their former camp, Gale leads them around the outskirts of it, toward the hills and trees that line the back - where Orin took him. He quiets as get closer, feeling lingering apprehension dry in his throat.]
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The constant of Gale's idle chatter only makes it all the more obvious when he falls quiet. Astarion finds the wizard's hand with his, threading their fingers together to give him a soft squeeze.]
What is it that you're looking for, dearest?
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Oh, but Gale still wanted more, and he'd thought he might have the chance to ask for it; his hand had curled in on itself, holding the simple band tightly so he wouldn't lose it, tight enough to leave an imprint in his palm.
And then, he'd lost it anyway when he'd realized his error, a mistake that might take him to his grave. He'd thought in that moment that Orin attacked him not about the future, but of the present, particularly the immediate threat of his demise. It wouldn't just be his death, or that of his friends and numerous innocents in the city: it was Astarion who Gale worried about should the orb detonate. That would be the end of all of them, but most of all, a man whose life had only just begun - a man he loved, whom he'd promised everything.
Gale had despaired as he'd lost consciousness; his moments of lucidity in the time between his capture and his rescue were filled with pain from her blades, but nothing compared to the fear that tore at his heart. It had seemed so far away last night with his rescue and Astarion's company... but now, standing in the forest where it happened, he feels the disquieted anew, goosebumps rising along his flesh as he thinks once more about how close they came to losing one another.
He squeezes Astarion's hand, still smiling despite the knot in his brow.]
When I followed- well, who I thought was you out here, I brought something with me. I've been working on it for some time, and it's not finished, mind you...
[He releases Astarion's hand and moves away from him, his eyes scrutinizing the ground as he literally retraces his steps.]
I promised when all this was over, I'd ensure you could still walk in the sun.
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But Gale's words quickly snap him out of his murderous daydreams, his attention drawn to the promise in them.]
You--you had something with you that would let me stay in the sun?
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[He searches the area a moment longer, exclaiming a quiet Ah-hah! when he finds what he's looking for near a tree. He thankfully misses that there's some of his own blood staining the grass nearby, remnants from the blow that rendered him unconscious. The bruise behind his temple, hidden along his hairline, is reminder enough.
Stooping to collect his item, Gale rights himself before turning back to Astarion: between his fingers, he holds a simple ring, half the band made of silver, the other gold - in the Waterdhavian tradition, of course.]
I wanted you to try it on. Make sure it fits before I start layering enchantments upon it. I'd hate to have done all this work only for you to not be able to wear it.
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Would you like to do the honors?
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