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friendofbees · 2 months

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Gale and Devotion

There are so many lovely ways that Gale expresses his devotion to Tav over the course of their romance. And I have to say, I think Gale’s best and most poignant lines are often the simplest ones:

“I said exactly what I meant: I love you. You should never, never doubt that.”

“You are everything to me.”

“You will always be enough for me.”

“With you I forget my goddess. I love you.”

But what I wanted to share is a line that I consider to be one of my favorites, and one that I think gets overlooked because it’s only in the Illithid Tav ending. It’s a line that I think perfectly embodies Gale’s unparalleled devotion, and it’s what he says to Illithid Tav after he’s asked them to marry him. Tav responds with, “You’d really wish to marry me, in my present condition?”

And without even the slightest hesitation, Gale simply says:

“Your ‘present condition’ is that you’re the one I love.”

He goes on to add: “And your current form is merely a reflection of the depths of your sacrifice. It only makes me love you more.” All of which is incredibly sweet and loving…but that first line. That first line is just so perfect.

This the first time Tav has truly been put into a vulnerable position in regards to their relationship. Not only is Tav no longer in the physical form they were when Gale first fell in love with them, they’ve become something most people would find grotesque.

In that vein, but not quite to that extreme, I have seen many people ask the following:

“What would Gale say if Tav felt insecure because (their body changed in a way they didn’t like/they got grey hair/lost their hair/got wrinkles/became ill/scarred/injured etc.)?” And I’ve seen wonderful answers, all of which have Gale being loving and sweet and supportive, but I really do think he would just say the same thing:

“Your ‘present condition’ is that you’re the one I love.”

This is what devotion is supposed to be. There’s no mimimizing or deflecting what Tav feels about themselves, no waffling or insecurity on Gale’s part. Just the simple, unwavering fact that Gale loves Tav. Not for their body, but for their soul.

That’s not to say Gale isn’t attracted to Tav’s body—and their musk, and sweat, and their touch—because he is, in whatever form Tav takes; but physical attraction is not what his love is dependent upon. Gale is attracted to Tav because he loves them, not the other way around.

Real devotion is not about two beautiful people confessing love and attraction to each other. It’s about two people who are imperfect and flawed in their own ways, choosing to love and support one another, again and again and again, despite the difficulties that life throws at them.

Gale is sweet, loving, romantic, funny, charming, and yes, very attractive. But I truly think what I love most about Gale is that he embodies devotion so, so perfectly and so effortlessly:

“Your ‘present condition’ is that you’re the one I love.”

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friendofbees · 7 months

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/50222548

Autistic & Description-Neutral Tav, Found Family, Autistic Shutdown/Meltdown, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Ableism, Aftercare, No Spoilers

Overwhelmed

Rating: Teen

Summary:

Tav stumbles away from camp to have a mental breakdown in solitude, only to be caught by found family. A love letter to fellow autistics and those who see our worth.

Content Warning:

Tav has the trauma response of hiding in isolation when experiencing an autistic shutdown. It is referenced they have a history of being misunderstood and subsequently pushed away. The comfort arrives quickly, but it is a process to mollify such a heightened state.

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It required every last fiber of Tav's fleeting grasp of sanity to slip away from the campfire, seeking out a dark space far from keen ears. It was a near thing to not skin their knees and hands as they fell behind the crumbling wall, their head meeting the weathered stone as they pitched backwards against it. They drew in a haggard breath, the pain behind their eyes from unshed tears blocked out their vision. Tav wanted to scream, to cry, to throw themselves bodily on the ground and thrash, but that would draw attention.

They mustn't draw attention.

Their throat burned from the stifled whine as they sat on their knees and rocked forward, back, repeat. Their skin was too loud. Sharp pins at every follicle and stretched too thin. Shirt. The shirt had to go. Every sensation the fabric provided was both too much and not enough. Jerky, haphazard movements of encroaching haze led to the offending garment thrown aside. The night air was numbing, but their remaining sense of self strained against the corporeal.

Barely imprisoned in flesh, terrified of the precipice, the impending explosion of turning into nothingness. Fingers tangled in their hair and pulled, the tugging sensation at their scalp a desperate attempt to stay in their body.

The distant crunch of gravel, and a startled male voice exhaled, "Shit."

No.

No. No. No.

They can't. They won't...

Tav wanted to move, to hide; their companions couldn't see them like this. None of them would understand. Memories of abandonment roared fiercely, rattling in their brain. Tav is frozen in place, muscles twitching and shuddering from suppressed exertion. The tears still hadn't come. They pressed their palms against their eyes, the headache mounting and breath forgotten.

Distant shouting. Sounds of running on the uneven gravel. Heavy footfalls. Too many footfalls. Too many voices. It turned into droning static, unable to hear anything else. It swelled to a pitch, threatening to pop. Someone was speaking to them, shaking their naked shoulder. A sudden light, and they gasped in pain at the brightness of it, folding in on themself as Healing Word washed uselessly across skin.

Choking; a barrier to air caught in their throat. They were attempting to cry aloud, but it was stuck. Tav's fingernails dug crescent marks into their bare arms as they curled their form as tightly as possible and resumed rocking.

There was nothing Tav could do. They are lost to the starless aether.

Static with no volume. Presence. Someone is kneeling in front of them. Foreign hands on their own. Warm. It was warm fingers pulling their hands away from doing harm. Tav's hands scrabbled for something else to cling to and found cloth — a desperate hold as their equilibrium faltered.

Not an object caught in their grasp. Other. A firm grip met their elbows as Tav leaned heavily on the other person's forearms, trapping them together. Tethered. Tav had a tether keeping them balanced.

The tadpole wriggled. Alien. Sickening.

There was panic. Fear. Existed yet disconnected. The idea of self was nebulous, with no defining edges.

Heat. Heavy warmth blanketed their body. A focus. Physical and real. Contained. Sound? Was sound coming from them? It must be. It must be because they are racked by sobbing, tears and mucus mingling in their open mouth. Their throat is raw and stinging.

A head next to theirs, temples touching. Tav can feel the resonance of a deep voice. Calm. Assurance. Pulling them in closer to the figure kneeling in front of them. Another presence sat next to them, a large hand rubbing circles on their back. There's a barrier between skin, the warmth sinking deeper into their core.

They have a body. A coalescing self. A ragged breath, and then another, fuller this time. Oxygen. It hurt and made them lightheaded. Encouragement. The overwhelming pain was morphing, twisting itself into a bone-deep ache and fatigue. They wanted to lay down, but the conjoined forearms wouldn't let them. The tether resisted the movement.

Words. A question? The head pulled away as their companion sat upright, hands never waning in grip. Tav's head followed, and their forehead landed somewhere soft and unyielding, a heart beating steadily. Sleep. They wanted sleep. Pain that demanded reprieve. The other’s chest rising and falling, spoken words reverberating under their head, lulling them deeper.

Insistence; multiple points of contact physically pulling them upward. Forearms stay interlinked, but Tav’s head lolled to the side at the sudden shift. Knees. Knees that don't hold weight. Hands from behind catch them in the armpits, preventing them from falling away with the blanket, its warmth now pooled at their ankles. Someone brushes gravel from their pants.

How many?

They can't focus. Everything is bleary and fuzzy at the edges. They are too tired to follow the thought.

A question, a tug forward. Their legs move on their own accord.

"Good." A voice of approval, followed by more words that sound encouraging. "Good." The only word Tav can recognize right now.

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When Tav eased back to consciousness, the first thing they noticed was the scratchy, brimstone-scented warmth of a wool blanket against the bare skin of their torso, pulled up to their ears, followed by the smell of parchment and the texture of crushed velvet grasped tightly in their fingers. They scrunched their eyes and turned their face into their pillow as the crisp whisper of a page turn and the crackle of a distant campfire reminded Tav of the wider world’s existence. Fingertips smoothed against their hair.

"Hello there," the voice rumbled steadily. "How are you feeling?" Tav attempted to mutter a platitude but found their voice too hoarse from abuse; instead, their response was merely a gravelly moan. A muted snap of a book closing, and another stroke of a hand smoothing their hair. "Mm. Sounds about right. You gave us quite the scare." Tav opened their eyes with a pained expression. Gale's eyes were attentive, his expression soft and open. No judgment arose to meet Tav's fear.

"S-sorry. I didn't..." a deep swallow in an attempt to coax their voice to work, "I didn't want you to find me like that." It was a feeble apology, but one that sometimes worked to dissuade accusations of seeking attention.

Gale's brow pinched in concern, "I'm glad we did. No one should face that amount of pain alone. I wish I could have helped more, but my somatics were, ah... constricted, shall we say."

Tav tested their fingers, unclenching from the purple velvet that was now creased beyond disregard. The digits were stiff and ached in protest of movement, bringing to notice the prominent muscle exhaustion throughout their body. "You... you're not mad at me," the whisper a statement of confusion.

"Stars, no! I'm honestly surprised none of us have had a nervous breakdown before now." Gale sighed at Tav's obvious trepidation. "Lae'zel and Astarion are keeping distance, but in their own... caring kind of way," he said, waving his hand dismissively in a vague direction. "Everyone else kept vigil nearby. Karlach was beside herself wanting to hug and hold you, so she did the next best thing." He adjusted the blanket draped around Tav as they forced themself to sit up with trembling limbs.

"I've both seen and experienced panic attacks in my years, but that was something different, wasn't it?" Gale's imploring tone was delicate, gently requesting confirmation.

"My family... Growing up, they referred to them as tantrums." Tav closed their eyes in defeat, and reached to pull the blanket closer around themself, self-conscious of their topless vulnerability.

"Blast them!" a momentary burst of anger escaped Gale, directed away from Tav’s physical form. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a steadying breath to recenter himself. He turned to sit fully facing Tav, his hands grasping their upper arms with reassurance, grounding them to this moment in time before they slipped away into disassociation.

"I felt in the deepest core of my being what you were experiencing when I reached into your mind, Tav. Sorry about that, by the way; I didn't know what was ailing you until I did so." He puffed out a breath of remorse.

"You were falling apart in front of us, and your affliction was nothing of the sort you've been accused of. Tantrums are selfish, intent on asserting one's own will to everyone else's detriment. You... You are not selfish." Gale sought out eye contact, his expression austere and overflowing with compassion. Tav couldn't bring themself to meet that gaze. "The all-encompassing agony you were in, body and soul, was not a choice you made. I’ve always been drawn to the vast possibilities provided by The Weave, but you experience the minutia of the Material Plane in both all its glory and disappointing foibles. At least, I was too blind to take notice of their significance. Stop and smell the roses, so they say," Gale chuckled lightly to himself. "I see it now, though, how the sheer magnitude of physical existence can threaten to rip you asunder. You don't have to face it alone." A small smile pulled across his features, "Luckily, I know a thing or two about that last bit."

A hitch in Tav's breath, too many memories cementing the need to isolate themself flooding in, so rapidly filling their mind they tangled like string. Gale carded his fingers through Tav's hair and beckoned them to focus on him, tethering them once more.

"I need you to know this, and feel the weight of its truth. I want you to come to me when you are in distress. I want to be here with you, Tav. You don't need to hide for the sake of my loyalty." Tav’s tear-pricked eyes sought his face as the firm sincerity of his voice permeated the space, parting the waves of Tav’s roiling thoughts.

Gale’s expression and voice softened, his thumbs wiping at renewed tear tracks. "We all respect you, Tav. In our own individually broken ways, we all care about you. Tonight doesn’t spell the end of everything. You are not alone." Gale leaned forward and pressed his lips to the crown of Tav's head, his words whispered as a promise, "You never need to be alone again."

Author's Note:

This is the fastest a story has ever poured out of me. I’m in love with this band of misfits, and the bonds they forge along the way. PS - I’m stupidly smitten with this wizard. Of course he’d understand what it’s like to self-isolate and fight to keep living despite being torn apart. Tara taught him well.

#baldur’s gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #soft and tender #emotional hurt/comfort #actually autistic

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