[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.]
[Gale's expression softens, his smile earnest and warm, his heart skipping as the orb glows gently beneath his fine doublet. He closes the gap between them, letting the thudding in his chest distract him from his anxieties as he takes Astarion's hand and slips the ring on his finger. It's a bit big - almost a better fit for his thumb than his ring finger proper; he reddens as his eyes flick upward to meet Astarion's gaze.]
Apologies. I appear to have overestimated your size, but it's an easy fix, I assure you.
[Gods, what does he even say? His voice feels caught in his throat, overwhelmed by just how much this moment is. How saccharine, how impossible it would have been only a few tendays ago. He pulls his hand back slightly, just to rub his thumb against the ring, watching it turn on his finger. The gold stands out against his pale skin, almost warming its pallid tone. He looks up to meet Gale's eyes, his lips quirking at the ruddy color of his cheeks.]
Well, I can hardly hold it against you.
[In a huff he lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, shaking his head slightly.]
Gods, if this is some sort of delusion, please don't snap me out of it.
[He lets his hand linger around Astarion's, his brow knitting as he pauses, then finally gives voice to his feelings.]
I know we've not known each other long in the grand scheme of things, and were it not for the tadpoles, I doubt we'd have ever met. Certainly not in favorable circumstances, given our respective situations prior to this adventure.
[He imagines a scenario where Astarion, still under the control of his sire, takes him back to Cazador, only for the vampire lord - and Baldur's Gate itself - it meet a rather explosive end. That'd certainly be one way to rid the world of that monster. Their meeting on account of the tadpoles seems a blessing by comparison.]
But through you, I've found a piece of myself that I was missing: someone who sees me as I am, who wants me as I am, and who has given up so much for me. Someone who treats me not as a plaything, but as an equal, and as proven it with his own actions in a way no one else ever would.
[It really should be criminal to be as smitten as Astarion is in this moment. He hardly feels himself for how light his body is, for how much he can't stop smiling. He lifts his free hand to cup Gale's cheek, his thumb brushing that familiar coarse line of his beard. Much less coarse now thanks to Astarion's care. Just as his expression is much less burdened with worry and sadness. It's still so novel to think he could have that effect on someone who truly sees him for who he is. His equal. His wizard. His Gale.]
The poetry of your words are so perfect, every time. It is truly a gift that I found you. One I'll cherish as long as I can.
[He leans in to emphasize the point with a lingering kiss.]
[Gale leans into his hand, his smile widening enough to show his teeth before he meets Astarion in a gentle kiss; the smile softens as they part, a melancholic thought coming to him.]
I'd stay with you for all eternity if I could.
[He pushes that notion away with another kiss, letting this one linger as well.]
[Though never mind details. Sliding his hand into Gale's hair and kissing him in the warm sun of midday is more important now. It's so easy to forget it all when the warmth of Gale's lips are against his.]
[Even the ever-analytical, overthinking Gale Dekarios doesn't ponder the potential details too long as he lets himself be swept up in Astarion's touch. The hand in his hair is encouraging, his own slipping to Astarion's forearms to pull him closer, his fingers dancing across the distance as a breeze hits them both—
And unfortunately, said breeze riles something in the trees; it skitters away, and the ensuing noise of rustling branches and disturbed foliage draws Gale's attention away from Astarion. His body tenses, fingers tightening on Astarion as his pulse quickens, his eyes darting, searching all around them.
He catches himself only a couple of seconds later, but it's enough to make his momentary panic obvious. He swallows; his throat feels tight, thick as he tries to recompose himself, to make light of his trepidation.]
[Astarion can feel Gale's fear as well as he can hear it, smell it. The smell of his blood is an acrid undercurrent on the air that the breeze brings back to his attention as Gale's heartbeat thunders in his ears. Astarion reaches for Gale instinctively, pulling him closer. He knows the feeling all too well.
When the moment quiets, he presses his hand against the center of Gale's back, holding the wizard to him as he leaves a firm kiss against Gale's temple.]
Let's not linger then. The place I need is... It's not far from here.
[Gale's eyes land on the ground, a mixture of embarrassment and shame coloring him as Astarion pulls him closer; at least he feels safe there, though he struggles to reason why he felt so unsafe in the first place. He's being unduly paranoid, he chides internally - practically silly about it. Orin is gone, and so too are most of the Bhaalists.
Still, he likes the sanctuary he finds in Astarion's arms. His heart still drumming away, he brings his attention back to his partner.]
After you.
[He's quiet as they depart, his frustration with himself simmering.]
[Astarion catches Gale's hand in his, pressing the ring into his palm so it isn't lost again. Once it's tucked away, he'll thread his fingers with Gale's to lead him through the streets of the city. He isn't much for conversation as they make their way to a nearby graveyard, his gaze pointedly avoiding any passers by. It isn't until he's led them to a small headstone covered in ivy that he stops, something catching his eye amidst the cracked stone and vines.]
What in the hells...?
[He lets go of Gale's hand, crouching down before the grave to pull at the greenery to eventually reveal the inscription. It's his own grave, the years of his birth and death carved in faded script. But, perhaps more attention grabbing than that is white flower that falls from where it was held within the vines to rest on the ground. Astarion stares at it, not knowing what it means, what to do with it. The flower itself should be familiar enough to Gale, a perfectly preserved blueshine blossom.]
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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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Apologies. I appear to have overestimated your size, but it's an easy fix, I assure you.
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Well, I can hardly hold it against you.
[In a huff he lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, shaking his head slightly.]
Gods, if this is some sort of delusion, please don't snap me out of it.
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[He lets his hand linger around Astarion's, his brow knitting as he pauses, then finally gives voice to his feelings.]
I know we've not known each other long in the grand scheme of things, and were it not for the tadpoles, I doubt we'd have ever met. Certainly not in favorable circumstances, given our respective situations prior to this adventure.
[He imagines a scenario where Astarion, still under the control of his sire, takes him back to Cazador, only for the vampire lord - and Baldur's Gate itself - it meet a rather explosive end. That'd certainly be one way to rid the world of that monster. Their meeting on account of the tadpoles seems a blessing by comparison.]
But through you, I've found a piece of myself that I was missing: someone who sees me as I am, who wants me as I am, and who has given up so much for me. Someone who treats me not as a plaything, but as an equal, and as proven it with his own actions in a way no one else ever would.
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The poetry of your words are so perfect, every time. It is truly a gift that I found you. One I'll cherish as long as I can.
[He leans in to emphasize the point with a lingering kiss.]
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I'd stay with you for all eternity if I could.
[He pushes that notion away with another kiss, letting this one linger as well.]
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[Though never mind details. Sliding his hand into Gale's hair and kissing him in the warm sun of midday is more important now. It's so easy to forget it all when the warmth of Gale's lips are against his.]
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And unfortunately, said breeze riles something in the trees; it skitters away, and the ensuing noise of rustling branches and disturbed foliage draws Gale's attention away from Astarion. His body tenses, fingers tightening on Astarion as his pulse quickens, his eyes darting, searching all around them.
He catches himself only a couple of seconds later, but it's enough to make his momentary panic obvious. He swallows; his throat feels tight, thick as he tries to recompose himself, to make light of his trepidation.]
Perhaps we, ah. Ought not tarry here.
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When the moment quiets, he presses his hand against the center of Gale's back, holding the wizard to him as he leaves a firm kiss against Gale's temple.]
Let's not linger then. The place I need is... It's not far from here.
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Still, he likes the sanctuary he finds in Astarion's arms. His heart still drumming away, he brings his attention back to his partner.]
After you.
[He's quiet as they depart, his frustration with himself simmering.]
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What in the hells...?
[He lets go of Gale's hand, crouching down before the grave to pull at the greenery to eventually reveal the inscription. It's his own grave, the years of his birth and death carved in faded script. But, perhaps more attention grabbing than that is white flower that falls from where it was held within the vines to rest on the ground. Astarion stares at it, not knowing what it means, what to do with it. The flower itself should be familiar enough to Gale, a perfectly preserved blueshine blossom.]
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