[Though Morena casts Astarion with a puzzled look over his words - and their implication - she doesn't have time to remark on it before Gale makes his way into the room. In his hand is a blueshine plucked from the arrangement, its stem curling as he worries it nervously between his fingers. He gives both of them a smile.]
I hope I haven't kept you too long. Just wanted to see Lena off - she's done beautiful work. Simply marvelous, truly.
[And yet, there's that notch in his brow, the one that forms when there's something on his mind. Morena assumes it's the flowers and their upcoming nuptials, but Astarion may feel otherwise. Tara certainly does, her tail flicking as her eyes settle upon Gale.]
Is something wrong, Mr. Dekarios?
[Gale looks her way, doing his best to mask his feelings.]
No, nothing at all. I was merely... preoccupied with the arrangement.
[As if Astarion would miss one of Gale's nervous tics, as keyed up and anxious as he is. Though it does mean he misses the look Morena's given him, doesn't catch his earlier slip up. But how could that matter when Gale's back?
He steps closer as Gale enters, reaching to rescue the abused flower from his grasp.]
Come now, darling. It's a lovely arrangement, isn't it?
[With the flower rescued from his grasp, Gale meets Astarion's eyes.]
Nowhere near as lovely as you.
[He'd taken the blossom while standing by the door, thinking, hoping that the thought of tucking it into a buttonhole on Astarion's shirt would serve as a suitable distraction; it did not, clearly. And if Tara noticed, it's only a matter of time before his mother does.
Maybe they can chat about this for a moment, he considers, trying to find an excuse for them.]
Might I borrow my fiancé? Assuming you two don't mind being left alone for a little bit longer, of course. I just need to go over some of the finer details about the ceremony with him. Something I just thought of.
[Morena nods, unopposed to the idea.]
Of course, my dear. You've time to take a walk in the garden, or chat in your old bedroom—
[Tara adjusts her wings, clearing her throat.]
And you two had better only 'chat,' should you go in there. You've time, but not that much time.
[Morena chides her, something to the tune of letting them have their fun, but Gale, flushed, excuses himself before he can hear any more of his mothers' speculation on his love life. He chooses the garden, clasping Astarion's hand and leading him out the back door. He normally wouldn't be so forceful, but this seems pertinent.]
[Well, Astarion won't resist. Especially not given all that's come to pass tonight. He gives a nod to Tara and Morena but follows quickly, his hand held tight around Gale's.
Once they're outside, he spares another glance to the door before offering Gale the flower with a tight expression across his face.]
[Gale's brow knits just a bit tighter as his eyes land on the flower; though he takes it, he doesn't yet tuck it away as he'd intended, fighting the urge to twist the stem.]
I asked her if she was familiar with your family name. She said she was - on her father's side.
[Without thinking, Astarion grabs at Gale's wrist as soon as he takes the flower. His grip is tight, a faint tremor in his hand as he leans in, his voice lowered to a whisper.]
You asked? Why in the hells would you—[He catches himself, his thoughts moving faster than his words, biting off the accusation with a low, insistent plea.]—what did she say?
[That earns a sharp, incredulous laugh from Astarion. He drops his hand from Gale's wrist, curling it into a tight fist as well.]
Oh, and why would they think well of it? Perish the thought. They couldn't be bothered to think of it, they—[He turns aside, his entire posture strung tight as a bowstring as he grasps for words, like trying to catch at fraying threads at the edges of a gaping hole before the fabric is rent into pieces in front of him.
He blinks, his vision suddenly blurred, his eyes hot. It's been so long, centuries. And any memory he might have had has been buried deep beneath layer upon layer of torment and pain so deep he doesn't know how to unearth it. He's trembling, he realizes. His body shivering with a cold he doesn't feel. But his mind feels detached, probing at the edges of the gaping abyss of his memories as his body draws in sharp, panicked breaths as if it will steady him.]
[Gale watches as Astarion unravels before him, wondering if this was the right thing to do - if sating some curiosity was worth the distress he's caused. Knowledge is always a worthwhile pursuit, yes, but at what cost? Was it worth it this time, seeing how Astarion has taken this revelation?
He curses himself inwardly. He should have thought longer on this before bringing it up, but... he couldn't keep the truth from Astarion for long. He doesn't like secrets between them. Gale steps in front of Astarion, wanting to pull him into his arms, but uncertain if he should; his eyes instead trail to the flower in his hands.]
Perhaps... he thinks so poorly on it because he lost someone there. I certainly would, were it me.
[It's a long moment before Astarion's focus finds its way back to Gale, his panicked breaths drawing to a rather abrupt halt as he does. He tastes bile at the back of his throat, a sour unpleasantness brought on by the realization that he's lost himself again. That he went somewhere else when all Gale has been doing is trying to help. He meets Gale's gaze, searching those soft, brown eyes a moment before he looks away in shame.]
They could have known. In all their damned and infinite wisdom—they should have known—!
[The bitter sting of tears threatens again as his voice goes sharp-edged as a knife. For all the times he spent calling out to the divine in hope of rescue, the hours he spent pleading to Corellon, to Sehanine, to all the Seldarine and gods for aid, there is a faint whisper of a memory of pleas to his mother, to his father, but those were more quickly silenced with Cazador's punishments.]
[Perhaps Astarion is right - perhaps they should have known somehow. They should have searched harder for him, should have done anything they could for their son. His mother certainly would have... had Gale let her in. Instead, in his darkest hours, he kept asking for the help of the lover who refused to speak to him, of the goddess who made him all he was, of the only one who could have helped him - but only did when she found it convenient.
It's not the same circumstances, he tells himself; it's not the same kind of hurt, no matter how he tries to empathize. For all he knows, it might not even be the same kind of familial relationship: maybe Astarion's parents never cared for him the way Morena does, a mother who would fight the gods themselves if it came right down to it. But if that's the case, then who did bring the moonflowers to his grave?
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he finally tucks the flower into the buttonhole on Astarion's lapel before bringing his hand down to clasp Astarion's.]
You seemed bothered before you left. And I suspect she recognized something about you. Perhaps they don't know what happened to you, but they do know you, somehow.
[Astarion looks down at the flower, at Gale's hands over his, and swallows against the weight lodging itself at the back of his throat. What does it mean if they know him? If they know he's alive, after all those centuries? In the moment he can't fathom it. It's like standing at the edge of a precipice leading into inky darkness and not knowing how far the fall is before he'll hit the bottom. He squeezes Gale's hands, trying to let the warmth ground him, but it still sends a chill running across his skin.]
What does it mean, then? For—us, for all this? If they come looking now—?
[He's at a loss for words himself, for a moment - a true feat. His brow furrows, his fingers tightening around Astarion's as he turns those questions over in his mind, searching for any kind of answer.]
I suppose... it means as much or as little as you want. If you want to learn more about them, we will. If not, then we'll not speak of this again. And should they suddenly make themselves known at our wedding, objecting to our union... well. We'll cross that bridge should we come to it. I suppose with a half-elf relative, they won't be too opposed to the thought of 'us.'
[It's more the red eyes and pointy teeth he's worried they'll object to.]
No matter what, I will be by your side. 'Til death do us part.
[Astarion gives a soft huff at that last line, turning his hand in Gale's to give a soft squeeze.]
I never doubted that part of it, darling.
[As for the rest, well. What does he want it to mean? He won't deny that he's envied Gale having the warmth and love of a mother whose love never wavered even when he was in the grips of a literal goddess. But that mother will be his mother soon, so there's no need for envy. Only the open-ended question of his own mother, a woman he can't even put a face to, much less a name.
He swallows again, tugging gently at Gale's hands to draw him closer.]
I—don't know. In honesty, I don't know—anything of them. I've lost it all. For centuries the only family I had was—Cazador. And I can't—his shadow sticks to all of it.
[Allowing himself to be drawn closer, Gale rests his forehead against Astarion's, hoping the warmth of his skin will ease his partner's anxiety. The coolness of Astarion's skin does little for his own, but he tries to remain optimistic in light of this unexpected development.]
You needn't decide now, or anytime soon. That's the good thing about elves, isn't it? They have practically all the time in the world. They've been without you this long. They can be without you a bit longer.
[Astarion is greedy for that warm, leaning in to press his forehead to Gale's. Tentatively, he puts his hands to Gale's hips, trying without words to express an invitation for Gale to put his arms around him.]
A blink of an eye for them, really.
What—would you want, darling? Were you in my place.
[Gale leans in at the invitation, embracing Astarion, bringing his head to rest on his shoulder. He rubs a gentle circle in his lower back, avoiding the scars between his shoulder blades.
What would he do if it were him in Astarion's place? Had he lost so much, unable to even recall what family he once had? He hmms to himself, putting careful consideration into his answer.]
... I would seek them out. I may have everything I need right here, right now, in my arms, but... I could not help but want to reclaim my past, and make it mine. To never know the truth would eat me alive.
[It's a wonder how calming it is just to have Gale's arms around him, how much hes come to love indulging in these simple pleasures. He moves his hands to rest against Gale's back, letting the wizard bear some of his weight.
Gale's response earns him his own answering hum, his thoughts finally calming enough that he can put them to rights. He's had so much taken from him, so much he thought that he'd never be able to properly reclaim that Gale has been able to help him see in a new light. Perhaps this will be the same.]
I think that I've had enough of being eaten alive, dearest.
[He pauses a moment, gently nuzzling at Gale's temple, the streaks of grey that have found their way there, breathing in the familiar scent of him.]
We would have to delay the ceremony, though. Evereska is hardly just around the corner.
[As Astarion leans into him and breathes him in, Gale can't help but hold on just a little tighter, wanting to stay in this moment as long as he can. He'll never get enough of these small pauses in their busy lives.
Ah, but there is a thought: putting what is keeping them busy on hold so that they can look further into this mystery, perhaps help Astarion reconnect with the past that was so cruelly taken from him. He presses a kiss to Astarion's neck, letting his lips flit across his pale skin.]
Think of it like this: we'll be giving my mother some extra time to perfect her plans for our big day. I can't imagine she'll take umbrage with that.
[It's a thought that brings a faint smile to Astarion's lips. He turns to return Gale's kiss with one of his own, pressed to the corner of his lover's lips.]
I can only imagine how extravagant she'd make the affair with that much extra time to perfect it.
[A smile dances across Gale's lips, the corner curling as Astarion's lips meet it; color dusts his cheeks as he closes his eyes.]
Let your imagination run wild, then. You'll have plenty of time to dream of what will be when we return.
[He draws closer, head tilting so he may kiss his partner more fervently - yet he pauses, his eyes cracking open, his head turning as his attention is pulled toward the house by a soft thumping. In the window sits Tara, her paw batting at the glass, her eyes narrowed in disapproval. She has been starving all day - as cats often claim - and refuses to let them be late for dinner on account of some romantic tryst.]
[One cannot keep Tara waiting, even if Gale's lips are delicious as always. Astarion melts into the kiss a moment before he sound distracts him. He casts a glance up before grinning wide at the sight of Tara's silhouette.]
She did warn us, didn't she, dearest?
[He leans in, nipping at Gale's lips just to tease before pulling away, Gale's hands in his.]
[Long story short, while Morena isn't thrilled to move the wedding, she is ultimately supportive of this development, perhaps because she knows it's no good to be otherwise. After all, she'd wondered herself if Astarion would seek out his family, and besides: Gale is so hopelessly in love that he'd do anything he thought would make his partner happy. As this has, historically, not worked out for him, Morena is a little worried. She's his mother; she can't help it.
But she stands by her instinct: Astarion is good for her son. She's gotten to know him over the tendays, and he really is quite charming when he wants to be. And most importantly, he's kind to Gale in a way many haven't been, so if a trip to Evereska and some delayed nuptials is what's needed, then so be it. That just means that she'll have to warn the caterer that more might be coming to the ceremony.
And they'd better be coming to the ceremony, or so help her, she'll have words for them.
As for Gale, he can't help but be distracted throughout dinner, even as they say their goodbyes and head back to their home. His mind is already working ahead: they'll need to secure passage to Evereska, and while there are no doubt some portals that go directly there, there aren't any in Waterdeep, nor anywhere he knows of. A carriage for part of the way, then? He'll need to get his maps out, see what locales are along the main roads. And that's not even accounting for getting into Evereska, as they're not exactly warm to outsiders...
Right, he should probably focus on one thing at a time, like getting home with his partner. As it is, he started walking without a word, completely lost in thought.]
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I hope I haven't kept you too long. Just wanted to see Lena off - she's done beautiful work. Simply marvelous, truly.
[And yet, there's that notch in his brow, the one that forms when there's something on his mind. Morena assumes it's the flowers and their upcoming nuptials, but Astarion may feel otherwise. Tara certainly does, her tail flicking as her eyes settle upon Gale.]
Is something wrong, Mr. Dekarios?
[Gale looks her way, doing his best to mask his feelings.]
No, nothing at all. I was merely... preoccupied with the arrangement.
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He steps closer as Gale enters, reaching to rescue the abused flower from his grasp.]
Come now, darling. It's a lovely arrangement, isn't it?
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Nowhere near as lovely as you.
[He'd taken the blossom while standing by the door, thinking, hoping that the thought of tucking it into a buttonhole on Astarion's shirt would serve as a suitable distraction; it did not, clearly. And if Tara noticed, it's only a matter of time before his mother does.
Maybe they can chat about this for a moment, he considers, trying to find an excuse for them.]
Might I borrow my fiancé? Assuming you two don't mind being left alone for a little bit longer, of course. I just need to go over some of the finer details about the ceremony with him. Something I just thought of.
[Morena nods, unopposed to the idea.]
Of course, my dear. You've time to take a walk in the garden, or chat in your old bedroom—
[Tara adjusts her wings, clearing her throat.]
And you two had better only 'chat,' should you go in there. You've time, but not that much time.
[Morena chides her, something to the tune of letting them have their fun, but Gale, flushed, excuses himself before he can hear any more of his mothers' speculation on his love life. He chooses the garden, clasping Astarion's hand and leading him out the back door. He normally wouldn't be so forceful, but this seems pertinent.]
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Once they're outside, he spares another glance to the door before offering Gale the flower with a tight expression across his face.]
What did she say? What is it?
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I asked her if she was familiar with your family name. She said she was - on her father's side.
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You asked? Why in the hells would you—[He catches himself, his thoughts moving faster than his words, biting off the accusation with a low, insistent plea.]—what did she say?
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She said they're still there, in Evereska. Living family.
[Maybe not the best way to word it, but he struggles to contain his nerves, riled as they are by equal parts excitement and apprehension.]
She mentioned her father, and how poorly he thinks of Baldur's Gate.
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Oh, and why would they think well of it? Perish the thought. They couldn't be bothered to think of it, they—[He turns aside, his entire posture strung tight as a bowstring as he grasps for words, like trying to catch at fraying threads at the edges of a gaping hole before the fabric is rent into pieces in front of him.
He blinks, his vision suddenly blurred, his eyes hot. It's been so long, centuries. And any memory he might have had has been buried deep beneath layer upon layer of torment and pain so deep he doesn't know how to unearth it. He's trembling, he realizes. His body shivering with a cold he doesn't feel. But his mind feels detached, probing at the edges of the gaping abyss of his memories as his body draws in sharp, panicked breaths as if it will steady him.]
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He curses himself inwardly. He should have thought longer on this before bringing it up, but... he couldn't keep the truth from Astarion for long. He doesn't like secrets between them. Gale steps in front of Astarion, wanting to pull him into his arms, but uncertain if he should; his eyes instead trail to the flower in his hands.]
Perhaps... he thinks so poorly on it because he lost someone there. I certainly would, were it me.
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Hardly a loss—they never came to find me.
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They thought you dead, Astarion. How could they have known?
[And yet, someone did know - someone who put that flower on his grave. He looks to the blueshine in his hands, its stem practically wrung to pieces.]
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[The bitter sting of tears threatens again as his voice goes sharp-edged as a knife. For all the times he spent calling out to the divine in hope of rescue, the hours he spent pleading to Corellon, to Sehanine, to all the Seldarine and gods for aid, there is a faint whisper of a memory of pleas to his mother, to his father, but those were more quickly silenced with Cazador's punishments.]
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It's not the same circumstances, he tells himself; it's not the same kind of hurt, no matter how he tries to empathize. For all he knows, it might not even be the same kind of familial relationship: maybe Astarion's parents never cared for him the way Morena does, a mother who would fight the gods themselves if it came right down to it. But if that's the case, then who did bring the moonflowers to his grave?
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he finally tucks the flower into the buttonhole on Astarion's lapel before bringing his hand down to clasp Astarion's.]
You seemed bothered before you left. And I suspect she recognized something about you. Perhaps they don't know what happened to you, but they do know you, somehow.
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What does it mean, then? For—us, for all this? If they come looking now—?
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[He's at a loss for words himself, for a moment - a true feat. His brow furrows, his fingers tightening around Astarion's as he turns those questions over in his mind, searching for any kind of answer.]
I suppose... it means as much or as little as you want. If you want to learn more about them, we will. If not, then we'll not speak of this again. And should they suddenly make themselves known at our wedding, objecting to our union... well. We'll cross that bridge should we come to it. I suppose with a half-elf relative, they won't be too opposed to the thought of 'us.'
[It's more the red eyes and pointy teeth he's worried they'll object to.]
No matter what, I will be by your side. 'Til death do us part.
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I never doubted that part of it, darling.
[As for the rest, well. What does he want it to mean? He won't deny that he's envied Gale having the warmth and love of a mother whose love never wavered even when he was in the grips of a literal goddess. But that mother will be his mother soon, so there's no need for envy. Only the open-ended question of his own mother, a woman he can't even put a face to, much less a name.
He swallows again, tugging gently at Gale's hands to draw him closer.]
I—don't know. In honesty, I don't know—anything of them. I've lost it all. For centuries the only family I had was—Cazador. And I can't—his shadow sticks to all of it.
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You needn't decide now, or anytime soon. That's the good thing about elves, isn't it? They have practically all the time in the world. They've been without you this long. They can be without you a bit longer.
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A blink of an eye for them, really.
What—would you want, darling? Were you in my place.
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What would he do if it were him in Astarion's place? Had he lost so much, unable to even recall what family he once had? He hmms to himself, putting careful consideration into his answer.]
... I would seek them out. I may have everything I need right here, right now, in my arms, but... I could not help but want to reclaim my past, and make it mine. To never know the truth would eat me alive.
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Gale's response earns him his own answering hum, his thoughts finally calming enough that he can put them to rights. He's had so much taken from him, so much he thought that he'd never be able to properly reclaim that Gale has been able to help him see in a new light. Perhaps this will be the same.]
I think that I've had enough of being eaten alive, dearest.
[He pauses a moment, gently nuzzling at Gale's temple, the streaks of grey that have found their way there, breathing in the familiar scent of him.]
We would have to delay the ceremony, though. Evereska is hardly just around the corner.
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Ah, but there is a thought: putting what is keeping them busy on hold so that they can look further into this mystery, perhaps help Astarion reconnect with the past that was so cruelly taken from him. He presses a kiss to Astarion's neck, letting his lips flit across his pale skin.]
Think of it like this: we'll be giving my mother some extra time to perfect her plans for our big day. I can't imagine she'll take umbrage with that.
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I can only imagine how extravagant she'd make the affair with that much extra time to perfect it.
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Let your imagination run wild, then. You'll have plenty of time to dream of what will be when we return.
[He draws closer, head tilting so he may kiss his partner more fervently - yet he pauses, his eyes cracking open, his head turning as his attention is pulled toward the house by a soft thumping. In the window sits Tara, her paw batting at the glass, her eyes narrowed in disapproval. She has been starving all day - as cats often claim - and refuses to let them be late for dinner on account of some romantic tryst.]
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She did warn us, didn't she, dearest?
[He leans in, nipping at Gale's lips just to tease before pulling away, Gale's hands in his.]
Come now, let's not keep them waiting.
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But she stands by her instinct: Astarion is good for her son. She's gotten to know him over the tendays, and he really is quite charming when he wants to be. And most importantly, he's kind to Gale in a way many haven't been, so if a trip to Evereska and some delayed nuptials is what's needed, then so be it. That just means that she'll have to warn the caterer that more might be coming to the ceremony.
And they'd better be coming to the ceremony, or so help her, she'll have words for them.
As for Gale, he can't help but be distracted throughout dinner, even as they say their goodbyes and head back to their home. His mind is already working ahead: they'll need to secure passage to Evereska, and while there are no doubt some portals that go directly there, there aren't any in Waterdeep, nor anywhere he knows of. A carriage for part of the way, then? He'll need to get his maps out, see what locales are along the main roads. And that's not even accounting for getting into Evereska, as they're not exactly warm to outsiders...
Right, he should probably focus on one thing at a time, like getting home with his partner. As it is, he started walking without a word, completely lost in thought.]
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