mystracal | 🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

[He can't help but smile at that kiss, no matter how chaste. He leans in to press his forehead to Astarion's, longing for that comforting closeness despite the situation.]

If you would, then. I thought I was ready, but... perhaps it will be easier to focus on the positives instead. Not that I avoided a terrible end for the second time in recent memory, but that I've found the love of my life.

[And he's a vampire. They'll have to broach that, too.]

[Astarion returns the gesture, cupping Gale's cheek in his free hand. He can never get enough of how warm Gale's touch is, soaking into his skin.]

And he's quite besotted with you, my dearest.

[He pauses just a moment before leaning in to press another kiss to Gale's lips, just as quick and chaste, but he can't resist the temptation.]

[Gale is grateful for Astarion pulling him out of his own head. He realizes all too late that he's doing it again: he's resigned himself to something he doesn't want to do because he feels he has to, as though it's his duty to do so. At least telling his mother about the orb has nowhere near the dire consequences of Mystra commanding him to detonate it for her forgiveness - and he has no doubt his mother will forgive him all the same whether he tells her in five minutes or five years.

Despite his concerns about disappointment, Morena has always cared first and foremost about her son's happiness - and the man who makes him happiest is right here before him. Gale indulges himself in that chaste kiss, keeping it brief - and just in time, as Morena hums, making her way back from the kitchen. In her gloved hands is a dish featuring a fine roast duck, the main course of their dinner.]

I hope you boys are hungry, because I've been perfecting this recipe for quite a while, and I'm eager to get your opinions.

[Astarion doesn't mind Morena seeing him showing Gale affection. All the better, in fact, now that he's aiming to dominate the topic of conversation. He turns to offer Morena a brilliant smile, settling back into his seat.]

Ah, it smells positively divine. I can't wait for a taste.

[Never mind that all food he eats tastes like ash. He's sure he can give a convincing lie based on the aroma.]

[Morena beams in return - Astarion does have a nice smile, doesn't he? Making her way to the other side of the table, she sets the roast right in the middle before taking a seat at the head of the table. Tara takes a tall stool with a pillow to Morena's right, a seat high enough to reach the edge - she then summons a few mage hands to help with serving.]

Help yourselves, and don't you let any of it go to waste. You two look like you could use a hearty meal. I don't think I've ever seen you so thin, Gale.

[Gale's lip curls with a hint of embarrassment, as he knows good and well that beneath his robes, he's softer than nearly all their companions and friends they met along the way. He's certainly softer than the picturesque Astarion beside him. He opens his mouth to speak, but in the time it takes him to find his voice, Morena has filled the silence again.]

Do you have family in the Gate, Astarion? Or are you on your lonesome there?

[Ah, yes. He should have expected this. The topic of his family just won't leave, will it? After telling Gale, he should have known that fate would put it in his way again. There's only a moment's pause before he favors Morena with a polite smile.]

On my own, I'm afraid. I was quite alone before I left the city and came across your darling son. My family hails from Evereska.

[He will let Gale help himself to the roast first, knowing he doesn't need any to sustain himself.]

[Though Gale winces at the question and gives Astarion an apologetic glance, he covers it well as he waits for Tara's mage hands to carve the duck and place a serving on his plate. Morena either misses that pause and falls for Astarion's composed response, or perhaps she ignores it entirely in favor of her own curiosity; Gale hopes for the former rather than the latter.]

Evereska! I've never seen it myself, but I hear it's lovely. And your parents must be quite proud, having a magistrate in the family, even if you are so far away.

[Gale's unease completely escapes Astarion's notice, his attention now fixed completely on Morena. His smile feels forced, a tight feeling gripping the back of his throat, but he's performed in worse circumstances.]

I'm afraid that I can't quite comment to either point. I'm unfortunately estranged from my family. I haven't seen the city with my own eyes in centuries.

[For a moment, his smile falters, his gaze flicking to Gale then back, but in that split second he isn't seeking solace. He's sizing Gale's reaction, searching for any sign of annoyance, of disapproval.]

Before your son, I was—truly alone.

[Astarion's eyes meet Gale's, and he'll find no disappointment, disapproval, or annoyance - only a sober look, one that accompanies Gale taking his hand below the table as he sits back down with his plate. He gives Astarion's hand a squeeze before releasing him so he can get his own serving.

Morena may keep her eyes off them, but there's the sense that she's watching all the same, a slight tension in the air that comes from observation.]

Well, it's a good thing Gale is always in need of company, particular company that treats him well.

[Grateful they're not talking about Astarion's family anymore, Gale chimes in.]

Oh, he treats me very well. Better than anyone ever has, really. Well, save for you, of course. And Tara. Maybe Elminster, depending on the circumstances.

[Morena's chin lands on her hands, the two of them clasped by the fingers to form a bridge before her; she smiles knowingly.]

You might move him ahead of Elminster, my sweet rabbit. I don't think that old windbag ever left a mark on your neck like that.

[Gale stiffens, his face almost as red as Astarion's eyes as Morena smirks to herself and pours herself a glass of wine.]

[Oh, Astarion likes Morena. Her remark startles a laugh out of him, one he doesn't bother to hide as he reaches over to give Gale's collar a soft tug.]

Yes, dearest, I hope I'd rank above that ancient cheesemonger.

[The break in conversation is quite welcome, though. Both to give him a chance to serve himself and to settle his nerves. Somehow, even with as well as things are going, he still feels like a thread pulled taut. Not enough to fray, not yet, but as if the slightest misstep could make it snap.

He pushes down on that particular anxiety, burying it in a smile for Morena's benefit.]

The marks aside, I do try to ensure that he takes care of himself. He seems to forget such simple things like eating and grooming himself when left to his own devices, as I'm sure you're well aware.

[Gale stews in his own embarrassment, tugging his collar and tie that much higher.]

I'm right here, thank you.

[Morena puts down her glass after taking a sip.]

Yes you are, my sweetness, so you're all ears to hear how glad I am to know you've got someone looking out for you. There's only so much Tara can do without thumbs.

[She turns her attention to Astarion.]

He's always been like this, I'll have you know - so focused on everything and everyone else that he forgets himself. Doubly when he has his heart set on something, or rather, someone.

[There's a flutter at the back of Astarion's throat, not altogether unpleasant but tight and nervous all the same. Gale has his heart set on Astarion. He knows it well enough from the numerous times the man has professed his love, from the ring that rests on his finger. Yet somehow hearing it from Morena's lips, from someone who knows Gale better than most, makes it more real. He can't help but smile, a soft and genuine thing, his gaze slipping back to Gale in adoration as he speaks.]

I dare say that I have quite a bit of experience witnessing that intensity firsthand.

[There's a beat, before his expression hardens to something more serious, looking back to Morena with an earnest entreaty in his gaze.]

But you have my word, my honest vow, that I know what a precious and fragile thing such a heart can be. I know how easily it can be hurt by those undeserving of its attention. I cherish your son, Morena Dekarios. He is more precious to me than the light of the sun, of all the stars that number our skies.

I will not see harm befall him. I will not let myself become the cause for any injury to him, body and heart alike.

[Both mother and son smile: Gale in lovestruck awe, and Morena in genuine satisfaction.]

Well, aren't you poetic? A man after Gale's own heart indeed. I could tell how taken he was with you the moment he said your name. [And with a quick look to Gale himself:] I'm sorry, sweetness. You're just not one to wear your heart anywhere but your sleeve.

[Gale can't help but sigh in solemn agreement.]

Yes, we're both well aware I'm not a liar by nature. Blame yourself for raising me to be so honest.

[She smirks, and Gale does the same in return. For all this talk about how little he does to take care of himself, he is an accomplished magician and adventurer - a former Chosen, a hero of Baldur's Gate. He'd brag about that last one, but that would require a lot of explanation he's not sure he's ready to get into. Know how perceptive his mother can be, he has no doubt she'll figure it out in time - and that's assuming Tara doesn't let it slip one day when she's had a bit too much catnip.

There is something he wants to tell her though, something near and dear to him, something he wants to announce to the world and sing from the rooftops. He hadn't gotten the chance to tell their friends, wanting his family to be the first to know; in his chest, his heart thuds quickly, heavily.]

On the subject of honesty, there is something I- that we wanted to tell you. Right, Astarion?

[He looks Astarion's way, though not to push him to speak so much as to gather his own courage.]

Hm?

[Astarion's attention draws back to Gale, that flutter beating its wings all the harder when he meets the man's gaze. Gods, but he is besotted, isn't he? He can feel the squeeze against his unbeating heart, something that by all rights should terrify him more than it does.

But it doesn't, not with Gale right here. He reaches his hand for Gale's, giving a gentle squeeze in reassurance. This is what they've come here for, after all. Fear can't keep them from it for long.]

Yes, of course. Go on, dearest.

[That squeeze does the wizard wonders; he licks his lips, wondering when his throat got so dry, and tells himself it's now or never. He sets his sights on Morena.]

I've asked Astarion to marry me. We're engaged, and—

[Well, there goes that smirk from Morena's face, replaced with unadulterated shock that tightens her lips, draws her brows upward in alarm. She'd figured out they were enamored with one another almost immediately, and was relieved to hear Astarion seemed just as dedicated to Gale as her son was to him, but apparently, she hadn't anticipated their relationship to be that far along. Even Tara looks astounded, her eyes wide, her conjured hands completely stationary as they float over the table.]

Married? So soon? You've only known him how long, a few months?

[Gale bites his lip.]

Long enough to know I love him. He understands me in a way of which no one else is capable. Cares for me like no one ever has or ever will. He is everything in my world, even more than magic.

[Morena's gaze flicks to Astarion, far more scrutinizing now.]

Is he?

[The change in Morena is abrupt enough to startle Astarion. He hasn't always been the best judge of character, but he had thought that things were going quite well up until this point. The tight line of her lips, the sharp scrutiny in her gaze is like ice shooting straight through his veins.

He feels himself tense, his back straightening unconsciously—fix your posture lest I have Godey pull out your spine, boy—a tremor in his lips hidden as he presses them together—must you always smile like there isn't a thought in that vacant head of yours?—but he doesn't flinch away. He owes that much to Gale, at least. He won't relent. He holds tight to Gale's hand, pale knuckles clutching to him in a white-gripped vice.]

[Astarion's hand tightens, and Gale's own trembles in his grasp; however, Gale stands firm in his decision.]

He is. I want to spend the rest of my life with him, however brief it may be by comparison. I've given him my heart, fragile as it is these days, and he's done well to keep it safe. I trust him, often more than I trust myself.

[Morena's expression softens with her son's words, her eyes moving back to him. She pulls in a deep breath and composes herself, settling down with her wine glass.]

I suppose that's all there is to it, then. [She casts him with a worried look.] I just want you happy and safe, my darling. And frankly, you've given me little reason to trust your judgment when it comes to partners who can provide you those things.

[Gale sighs as well, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.]

A perfectly fair assessment. But I promise, Astarion is different, has proven himself as such time and time again. He's no god, and I wouldn't have him any other way.

[Morena takes a sip from her glass.]

If you told me you were courting another deity, I'd be the first to defile the nearest temple.

[She finally looks Astarion's way again, bowing her head.]

I apologize, Astarion. Forgive a mother for worrying about her wayward son.

[Astarion can barely parse the conversation around him for how loud Cazador's voice rings in his head. He feels like he's falling. Like he's been shoved over the edge of a chasm with no end in sight. A chill runs over his already cold skin like the sharp cut of a flaying knife, like silver needles driven under his fingernails.

Morena's voice speaking his name seems to come from a thousand miles away, a distant echo into the cavernous shadows of his skull. He grabs to it like a lifeline, desperately hauling himself back, so he can feel the warmth of Gale's hand in his, smell the fragrance of Morena's wine, of the fine meal before them, not rot, not blood, but spices and rendered fat.

He's forgotten to breathe, he thinks. He looks to Morena bowing her head to him in a stupor. Has she noticed? He swallows down air, remembering that he needs it to speak, to be heard. Surely she'll notice the lapse in his reply, surely Gale will, but he can only hope it goes unnoticed.]

I—could hardly hold such a thing against you.

[Whereas they both missed Astarion's earlier lapse, they catch it this time; Morena's brow furrows in confusion as she looks him up and down.]

I'm sure you could if you wanted to, but I must ask - are you feeling all right? You're looking quite pale, and I do hope I haven't ruined dinner by being a mother owlbear before a proper hostess.

[Gale, his hand still in Astarion's grasp, offers her a placating smile.]

If you'll excuse your wayward son and his paramour for a moment, mum?

[Morena hesitates, but finally does rise from her seat; the concern hasn't left her face.]

Of course, sweetness. I'll go get Astarion some fresh water.

[She excuses herself and leaves the room, the two of them alone once more. Gale waits for her to be well out of earshot before speaking, his voice low and soft as he searches for Astarion's eyes.]

Astarion?

[There's an imperceptible flinch when Gale says his name, despite how soft and quiet it is. He gave his word he wouldn't ruin this evening, didn't he? That he wouldn't come between Gale and his mother. Hells, how much time did he lose? How long was he slack jawed and out of his mind? He swallows before squeezing Gale's hand in his, putting on as much of a smile as he can muster.]

I didn't mean to worry you, dear. I was—somewhere else. It didn't seem right of me to interrupt you and your mother.

['Somewhere else.' Gale's brow tightens.]

Forgive her, she's just... worried. I've given her every right to be.

[He runs his knuckles along Astarion's cheek.]

Just give me a moment. I'll find us an excuse to leave.

[He flinches again, more noticeable with Gale's hand to his cheek. It can't be hidden now. A sour anger bites the back of his throat as he speaks, a hissing whisper.]

Don't you dare.

[He pauses, gathers himself, digs his nails into his palm so it hurts enough to ground him, breathes.]

We'll stay. Your mother's cooked such a fine meal for us. Don't let me keep you from it, dear.

[His mouth draws itself into a thin line.]

She's cooked plenty of fine meals, and will cook others yet. I won't have you stay discomfited on my behalf.

And I won't have this evening ruined by—

[He bites off his words before he can say the name. It isn't Gale's name that's on his lips, he reminds himself. Gale doesn't deserve this anger, this hurt. He swallows again, some of the tension bleeding from his body as he looks down to the angry red crescents he's dug into the palm of his hand.]

I want this to go well, Gale. I don't want what she'll think of me if I steal you away from her right now.

[Gale's eyes trail downward, landing on Astarion's other palm; he pulls in a breath, stifling the urge to keep arguing.]

All right. But promise to talk to me when we get home.

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