🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

[mystracal]

tfln | invitations | and there was only one bed | undermountain alurlyath | what could be | blood bond | the price of freedom
it wore his face | dinner with morena dekarios | rediscovery

Comments

[sangwhine]

Oh? And how was it, feeling the "powers of nature" mend you?

[His voice drops for a moment into a mocking but startlingly accurate impression of their druid friend.]

[mystracal]

[The laugh that emerges from Gale is sincere and louder than he meant for it to be, but Astarion's impression is spot on.]

That's exactly the tone of voice he took as he figured out where to put his massive hands, trying to heal exactly the right spot. It was like covering a coin with an entire quilt.

[sangwhine]

Mmh, I do wonder sometimes at how those massive hands would feel.

[mystracal]

If you must know, he has a surprisingly gentle touch.

[He has another sip. There's a nice, nutty flavor that undercuts some of the sweetness, and he does enjoy that now that his teeth aren't rattling quite as much from the initial taste.]

As an elf, of course. I imagine his technique would be quite different in his more preferred form.

[sangwhine]

[Notably, Astarion hasn't had a drink yet. His fingers dance across the rim of his glass as he listens to Gale talk.]

The feeling of claws on your skin would be quite a different experience.

[mystracal]

[Excited to chatter with good company in the relative safety of their camp after the long night, Gale doesn't notice Astarion's distinct lack of drinking just yet. He's feeling more confident that they can truly amend what rapport they had - and perhaps even build upon it? - by the minute.]

I'd say so. He has a tent, but I've seen him leave it from time to time, right around the darkest hours of night. He shifts into that bear form, lumbers out to the trees at the edge of camp to find one he likes, then climbs up to a branch that will serve as his bed for the evening.

[He describes those movements with some key gestures of his hands, emphasizing the druid's bulk and particular gait.]

It looks as though someone balanced a boulder on a single plank of wood. One night, I expect him to come crashing down.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion gives a laugh at the mental image, shaking his head.]

Oh, to be so lucky to witness that moment. Though I imagine I'd be quite upset by his reaction. He takes far too many things in stride. That does dull the entertainment value.

[mystracal]

You do seem to favor getting a rise out of people.

[He says that with a casual smirk as he takes another sip.]

[sangwhine]

Guilty as charged.

[He almost adds "in more ways than one," but the words stall out on his lips. Instead he favors Gale with a smile, reaching to take a sip from his glass to cover the pause.]

[mystracal]

[Oh, he likes that smile. He likes it quite a lot.

He sets his glass to the side.]

I wanted to, erm. Talk about the other night, if we could. While the spirits are still high.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion sets his glass aside as well, his posture straightening up slightly.]

What part of it?

[mystracal]

You know which part.

[He takes a second to put his words together, trying to be more concise, clearer than usual.]

Now that I've had some time to clear my head, I just wanted to say that... I don't blame you for how you acted. You were desperate. Resigned to how things had to be. I've been there, in a way. Not the same, but a similar sort of hurt.

[sangwhine]

It was less resignation and more instinct.

[He shifts, his posture closing off somewhat, but he still keeps his gaze on Gale.]

I couldn't see any other way forward, any other path. You don't deserve that, though.

[mystracal]

[Gale's posture remains open, despite the difficult subject.]

Neither do you.

[sangwhine]

[His expression is pained for a moment. He turns away from Gale, his gaze fixing somewhere on the ground a short distance away.]

I don't know how to think of myself that way. As something more than an object of use. It's not something I've even thought possible for the past two hundred years.

[mystracal]

It is possible, Astarion. And, if you would—

[His eyes flick upward to meet his companion's.]

I'd like you to start with me.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion is visibly startled, looking up to meet Gale's gaze.]

Really? Truly.

[mystracal]

[Gale smiles, his grin pushing at his eyes.]

Yes. So long as you're willing to trust me from now on, and be honest. You needn't worry about me seeing you as anything less than a person. You make your own choices now, and those shouldn't include who you have to throw yourself at just to feel safe.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion can't help but smile in response, a warmth fluttering in his chest.]

I'd like that. Starting with you. Having something real.

[mystracal]

Yeah. Something real.

[That ember is back in his chest. He thought it might have been smothered yesterday by the crushing disappointment; he thought it might cool if he ignored it long enough.

However, here he is, back in Astarion's tent, drinking and chatting and honest-to-gods flirting when he gets the gumption because he cannot help himself. It's not just that Astarion is easy on the eyes and has a sharp wit that cuts in all the right places - Gale still feels they have more in common than either of them is willing to openly admit. The comment Astarion made in regards to Mystra, his concern for Gale's well-being in the sewers, his commiseration in being irrevocably changed by horrors in their respective pasts - they meant the world in those moments, lingering with Gale even now, acting as tinder for that ember.

He has another drink. Yes, that will help how dry his mouth suddenly feels.]

[sangwhine]

[Oh, absolutely it will help. Astarion sinks back down into his seat, suddenly more at ease, resting his chin casually against a hand as he takes Gale in. It feels surreal, that after all that's happened, after all he's done, Gale would still want something more, want something genuine. But he does. At least he says he does, and Astarion can't see a reason to doubt him.

Now all the reasons why he'd targeted Gale in the first place take on a different light. His wit, his intelligence, the cocksure way he grins, the charming color of his blushes. None of those things are simply assets to be used, or balms to ease the task of seduction along for Astarion. Now they're color and embellishments to the canvas that is a man who wants Astarion for who he is, and a man who Astarion wants in ways he's never truly considered before.]

I hope this means I can pay compliments to your finer features without worry of seeing you scurry away like a frightened rabbit.

[mystracal]

Perhaps.

[He's feeling just a little bold tonight. Must be the good atmosphere.]

But only if they're genuine compliments. You said you'd be honest, and I'm going to hold you to that.

[sangwhine]

Darling, I'm always honest with my flattery.

[He gives Gale a wide smile in response. It's hard to stop smiling.]

[mystracal]

Really.

[Gods, the way his fangs show when he really smiles captures Gale's attention so thoroughly that he has to take another sip just to look away.]

Need I remind you what you've said about me.

[sangwhine]

Only the parts you're doubting.