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weaveandwood · 27 days

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Weave and Wood Chapter Five: Reverie

Gale/Named Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

Auroria and Gale deal with the effects their mutual pining has on the rest of the group. A quiet moment is shared on their last sunset before the Underdark.

She didn’t know how much time had passed as she sat lost in her own thoughts before she heard a twig snapping. “Hello, Gale,” she smiled to herself, not bothering to turn around to see if she was correct. She knew she was. Gale cleared his throat. “That obvious? You know, maybe I should take you up on that stealth lesson.” He laughed softly to himself, moving closer to her patch of grass in the clearing. “Though I must say I do like how you always know when I’m near."

If the orb didn’t kill Gale, his imagination would. Since the tiefling party days ago, it’s been nigh impossible for him to think about anything other than the vision Auroria projected into his mind. She wanted to kiss him. Him! His feelings about her weren’t one-sided! And here he was, fully unable to act on it.

Gale sighed, lost in his thoughts as he stirred the pot of random ingredients that made it into that night's stew, if you could really even call it that.

Hands brushing as they walked on paths together, as they so often did now.

Auroria tucking an errant strand of hair behind her delicately pointed ear whenever she laughed, which was more and more often.

Obliterating her enemies one by one with a well-placed arrow.

The way she constantly teased him for his knees and his self-given title.

Checking for each other in battles - not enough to be distracted, but it was comforting to know the other person was okay. Gale wished he could cast mage armor on Auroria, her own armor be damned.

Speaking of, had her armor always been so well fitted?

“Need a taste tester?” He was interrupted from his reverie by the subject herself, holding a spoon. He smiled.

“You’re more than welcome to, though it is sorely lacking in flavor. Why can we never find a godsforesaken spice in all these abandoned crates and barrels on this journey?” He joked as he took her spoon, filling it with the soup and holding it out for her, his hand cupped under the bottom to prevent spills. She leaned forward, letting him put the spoon in her mouth, resting it on her tongue before closing her mouth around it. A million inappropriate thoughts ran through his head as he pulled the now empty spoon away from her mouth, tempting the orb’s presence. “I promise if I had my pantry in Waterdeep available to me, you would be very impressed.”

She smiled, taking the spoon back from Gale. “You know, it’s not bad. Especially since more than half of what we find has to be left behind because it’s rotten, you’re doing very well with such limited resources. I’m already very impressed,” she touched his shoulder as she walked back to sit by the campfire with Shadowheart, Wyll, and Karlach, discussing what happened at the creche that afternoon. Lae’zel was in her tent, needing time alone to process everything.

He sighed again.

“Soooo Gale, how is your sad, hopeless pining going?” A voice came from behind, startling him. Astarion. He was too good at sneaking around unnoticed - a boon when they needed something swiped, an annoyance at camp.

“I’m hardly pining. It’s been a year or more since Mystra cast me aside.” He turned his head to look at Astarion, who blinked a couple of times before smiling wickedly, putting his arm around Gale’s shoulder.

“Oh…oh, my dear wizard, I wasn’t talking about Mystra,” he said with a soft chuckle, patting Gale’s shoulder twice before walking off to join the rest of the group around the campfire.

******

Auroria looked up at Astarion as he walked over, noticing Gale in the background. Why was his face so red all of a sudden?

“Astarion, what did you say to him? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that particular shade of red before” she whispered as he sat beside her on the log.

He leaned in, speaking softly, “Darling, do you think we all haven’t noticed the way the two of you are constantly staring at each other then sighing? Honestly, I’m insulted that you think I’m that oblivious. Ever since the party with the tieflings you two have been insufferable. I just pointed it out.”

Now it was her turn to feel her face getting flushed. She took a deep drink from her wine, finishing what was in her cup and stood up quickly. “Man, is this fire hot? I feel like it’s really hot! I’ll, uh, I’ll be back in a bit.” She walked away quickly into the woods surrounding their campsite, hearing stifled giggles from the rest of the group. She hadn’t thought they were that obvious, but she was clearly mistaken.

True, she had been walking closer to him than before, hoping their fingertips would brush.

There was that one time when Karlach definitely caught her staring as he did his quarterstaff training with Lae’zel.

Maybe she did always know where he was when they were fighting an enemy.

And the thing with the spoon earlier was definitely calculated. She sighed. Stupid orb.

She didn’t know how much time had passed as she sat lost in her own thoughts before she heard a twig snapping.

“Hello, Gale,” she smiled to herself, not bothering to turn around to see if she was correct. She knew she was.

Gale cleared his throat. “That obvious? You know, maybe I should take you up on that stealth lesson.” He laughed softly to himself, moving closer to her patch of grass in the clearing. “Though I must say I do like how you always know when I’m near. I am surprised you’re at ground level - usually I find you at least fifteen feet up in the trees. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” she smiled, this time looking up at him from her spot on the ground, moving over a little to let him sit on the patch of soft grass she had found. The two of them sat next to each other in silence for a while, listening to the birdsong, watching the sun lower itself in the sky. Another day near its end. “I will miss this,” she said softly.

He looked at her, “What will you miss?”

“This.” She inhaled deeply. “The sun, the fresh air, the green grass, flowers, birds singing without a care in the world, the wind. I have to admit, I’m not looking forward to going into the Underdark and dealing with the Shadow Curse.” She ran her fingers through the grass, feeling each blade as she closed her eyes.

Gale watched her and laughed softly. “Sometimes I find myself surprised that you’re not a druid. You seem to be so spiritually connected to nature.”

“You can thank my parents for that. They were both rangers. I don’t remember my father at all but my mother had a deep respect for nature and a strong call to defend. Nothing spiritual, no deity to worship, just a heartfelt duty. She taught me everything I know. She told me stories of how she met my father by chance chasing after the same fiend and it was love at first sight, a human and an elf.” She plucked a blade of grass, twisting it in her fingers as she continued, “My father died when I was three years old. My mother said he had gotten ambushed during a hunt with some other rangers. His injuries were too severe to be saved. From the stories she told me, he was well-loved and it was a long period of mourning in the settlement we lived in.”

“She wore her wedding band until the day she died, never trying to find another love. She told me my father was all she needed, all she wanted, and that in her long and many years as an elf she was lucky to have found that once and that was enough. So she focused on training me - teaching me how to hold a bow, where to aim, how to blend in to my surroundings. We would travel to the seaside and practice shooting fish from cliffs, or go to the deserts to get acclimated to drier climates and hone survival skills. Not a conventional childhood, I’d guess, but it brought me such a deep appreciation for the varied world we live in. No matter where we went though, as soon as I got back to the forest, I knew I was home. It’s always felt like home to me.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your parents,” Gale said, looking at her as she wiped the corner of her eye. “It is difficult to lose one, let alone both.”

“Everyone has their stories,” she shrugged. “My mother was the one who taught me what limited magic I know. The week before she was killed she taught me Hail of Thorns. We practiced for hours on it each day. You should have seen the celebration she did when I finally got it right consistently. After she died, it felt…I don’t know.. wrong to use magic, if that makes sense. Like if someone else taught me, it would betray her memory. I perfected Hail of Thorns in tribute to her, but vowed never to learn another spell. And it’s worked alright for the past 20 years. Of course, now that I’m in this situation, I can see how that vow may have hindered me.”

“Would you be open to learning more spells?” Gale asked softly, tentatively. “I don’t want to overstep, and I don’t even know if it’s possible I could teach you, but perhaps we could try adding a few more to your arsenal. I found a book -"

“Of course you found a book. Where did you find a book?”

“Poking around at the creche, of course. You look in barrels for food, gold, and potions, I look on shelves for interesting books I can bring back here to read and decompress in the evenings.”

Auroria nodded. It did make sense, and she had been wondering how his book collection had continued to grow out here away from civilization. “I think I’d be willing to try. And from our time at the party, I remember you are an excellent teacher. If someone else besides my mother was going to teach me magic…I would like for it to be you,” she said softly. “I trust you.”

She felt a hand on hers. She stared at it, then looked up at Gale, brows furrowed.

“Gale, the orb - are you sure? You said -”

Gale smiled, “I know. It will be fine - no feeling of imminent explosion. Let me just sit here with you and watch our last sunset for quite some time together.”

Gale intertwined his fingers with hers and they did just that until the moon was high in the sky.

#gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfic #my writing #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 fic #gale x auroria #auroria galanodel #the line about gale's sad hopeless pining has been one of my favorites since I heard it #gale x tav #named tav #gale x f!tav #weave and woods #weave and woods fic

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recitedemise · 5 months

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𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰, 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗲. Still, chalk it up to his thirst for knowledge, not so much for any thirst for power. Gale, a scholar—inquisitive, curious, and infinitely probing—boasts an insatiable desire to learn all that he can. However, as a follower of Mystra, he's from her sole Weave that he's encouraged to pull from; yet, despite this urging, this unspoken rule, the chasms of the Shadow Weave yet bubble in his thoughts. It's powerful magic, of course, warped under Shar like bones or metal, but still, the arcane is mystery, and the arcane delights him, and even clouded by corruption, it still harbors its worth. Put simply, Gale believes that all magic is essentially fair game. After all, it exists on their plane, sits waiting there a touch like a well for your thirst, and so long as you're careful, what's the harm in sampling? In the Shadow Cursed lands, he'd felt the itch to indulge himself, to whet his need, and when he fashioned that lantern without his goddess' permission, there sprung a devilish delight that timidly gripped him. It was like, well, being a boy again, to be honest, with his hand in a jar of biscuits he'd been told to not touch. It was an act of rebellion, spurred a quiver by Mystra's spite, sure, but far more than that, it came from a weakness to feel its power, and to feel the heft of it and to taste its tang. If it's one thing about Gale, it's that he so thoroughly loves magic. And even if said magic is cursed and bedeviled, it'll always have a draw for him, tamable or otherwise. To be sure, there is some hubris at play here as well: he'll be careful, he tells himself. He can manage.

For better or for worse, Gale, though more morally aligned than not, can still find himself weak to temptation.

#HEADCANON.#Inspired by my little Gale origin.#But I DO think Gale would be all... well... I can do ONE little trick with the Shadow Weave. Just ONE. I promise. Then I'll stop.#He wants to at least try everything once. He HAS the potential to really get caught up and dabble too longly where he shouldn't #but for the most part AND with the right company and words he can stave his appetite.#I had Gale fashion the lantern and he went to bed all :))) That was fun. Course it was Gale. Course it was.#Tara: I sure hope you know what you're doing.#Gale: I do! :)#Anyway I'm NGL I don't think I can do anymore writing today. I am so roasted after working till like...4am last night.#And the words are just [empty howling] in my head. I have to draw Christmas gifts anyway so... tomorrow. I'll be here tomorrow.

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havealotonmymind · 26 days

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Girls' Night

Summary: Finally free from Zariel’s rule, Karlach is determined to live the remainder of her life to the fullest. The first thing she wants to do? Hold a girls’ night with her fellow companions.

Rating: Teen and Up

Category: Astarion & Gale & Karlach & Lae'zel & Shadowheart & Tav & Wyll (Baldur's Gate), Karlach & Tav (Baldur's Gate), Karlach & Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate), Karlach & Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate), Minor Astarion/Named!Tav

Additional Tags:

Developing Friendships, Minor Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Party Banter, Girls' Night, Act 1 (Baldur's Gate 3), Act 1 Astarion Being Act 1 Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Named Tav (Baldur's Gate), Tiefling Tav (Baldur's Gate), Fighter Tav (Baldur's Gate)

Also available on AO3!

I’ll probably say this about every one-shot I write for this series, but this is by far the most self-indulgent thing I’ve written. The whole fic is just unending party banter. The girls need more friendship moments together and I'm willing to provide lol.

Being really, truly free of the Hells was intoxicating. No lingering scent of sulfur on what little she owned? No demons? No Zariel? Gods, even the sight of weeds poking through the grass was enough to make her cry.

And to have a new group of friends to share that all with, too? Man, she had never felt luckier. They were an odd group that argued more than got along, but Karlach wouldn’t trade them for anything. All pretty decent people across the board. Even Astarion had his moments.

After a few days of traveling with them all, Karlach felt she had grown to know her companions pretty well. That called for some kind of celebration. One of the most sacred and cherished traditions in all of Faerûn.

“Hey, soldier, should we have a Girls’ Night?” Karlach asked, unable to contain her excitement mid-adventure. Well, adventure in the loosest sense of the word. Leviathala frowned down at their map trying to navigate while Astarion supplied unhelpfully vague directions over her shoulder. The two had been arguing back and forth for the better part of an hour.

Shadowheart latched onto Karlach’s suggestion with all the vigor of a drowning person clinging to a lifeboat. “Please. Anything to get them to stop talking.”

“Excuse me? I was helping!” Astarion said.

“Saying ‘let’s go over there’ and pointing at a random spot on the map is not helping, Astarion. And by the time I figure out where there even is, you change your mind anyway,” Leviathala snapped.

“You’re an adventurer, aren’t you? Have a little sense of, well, adventure.”

Leviathala’s bright blue eyes—brighter still against the stark black of her sclera—burned holes into him. She looked two seconds away from snapping his neck.

Karlach stepped in between them. “Hey now, come on! Lev, when was the last time you had a girls’ night, eh? A proper girls’ night! Shootin’ the shit, maybe a drink or two.”

“Yes, because there are such excellent taverns nearby,” Astarion scoffed. “Of course, there’s always Waukeen’s Rest! I hear the staff are all fired up to serve new customers.”

Lev coughed to hide a laugh. “Gods above, you’re terrible.”

“Morally yes, but you still laughed.”

“It was incredibly tasteless. Of course I laughed. At you, not with you, mind.”

“Charming as this banter is, the sun is going to set soon and I’d much rather have a full girls’ night instead of half of one,” Shadowheart butt in. “So let’s reconvene at camp, hm?”

Lev stashed her map away. “Fine. Lead on, then.”

Once they made their way back, Gale looked up from the cauldron where he was cooking their dinner. “Ah, you’ve all made it back in one piece, I see. Find any good herbs out there?”

Lev pinched the bridge of her nose. “Of course we forgot to get the one thing we set out for in the first place.”

His smile fell. “Well, at least I have some salt and pepper left.”

“Oh wait, I did grab some leafy things from a barrel. Stole it from the Zhentarim after we wiped ‘em out in their hideout. They smelled nice. Dunno if these are herbs, though,” Karlach said as she handed over a fistful of leafy stalks.

“Basil! Oh, thank Mystra. At least our food will taste halfway decent.” As he plucked and scattered the leaves into the stew, he added, “Might I also hope for some spices to go along with that basil?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to keep hoping. The spiciest thing we found today was smokepowder,” Lev said as she sat heavily on a log across from him. Karlach planted the smokepowder barrels next to their other supplies for emphasis.

“Ah. Still valuable, of course, but not exactly good for digestion.”

Even without all the usual spices at his disposal, Gale managed to make a fine meal indeed. None of their leftover food went to waste. Even the bones of last night’s boar helped to create a rich stock.

“Gale, you do astound me,” Wyll said. “How you manage to make a feast from scraps is a rare talent indeed.”

“Thank you. But I must ask, what did you eat in your time as the Blade of Frontiers?”

“Oh, mostly cured meats from game I hunted myself. When I have a quarry in my sights, I rarely have the time to sup as I would like.”

“Well, I’m glad my meager fare is to your liking, your grace.” Gale bowed his head and the others smirked over their bowls. Their recent run-in with Counsellor Florrick garnered a lot of teasing about his duke status that poor Wyll had yet to live down.

“Please, out here, I’m just Wyll.”

“For what it’s worth, you’ve more than earned the Blade of Frontiers title. A set of horns isn’t going to change that.” Karlach moved as if to nudge his shoulder, then thought better of it at the last second. “And if anyone gives you any trouble about it, I’ll always stick by you, Wyll.”

His smile was a bright point in the dark. “Thank you, Karlach. That truly means a lot.”

They finished dinner not long after. Karlach took a few deep breaths to make sure she wouldn’t get too excited for the night ahead. The few girls’ nights she’d seen other clusters of friends host in the Gate always seemed like a good time. Of course, those were held in lively taverns or restaurants, but surely their group could make do out here.

“Yeah, well, it’s been fun, but I think it’s time you guys pop off. It’s girls’ night tonight.”

“What happened to ‘I’ll always stick by you, Wyll’?”

“You’ll be nearby. Us girls just need a bit of time to ourselves, though, so go on.” Karlach shooed the men away like one would an unruly pet caught chewing something it wasn’t supposed to.

Gale turned to Wyll as the two trailed off. “What are we gentlemen to do? Have our own boys’ night perhaps?”

“I doubt Astarion would be inclined to join any more group activities than are required of him.”

“Probably for the best.”

Without a common thread to keep them tethered, they simply drifted to their own tents for the night.

“Damn, it’s good to be alive!” Karlach fell against one of the bedrolls she set up by the campfire. It was a lovely night out. All the nights so far had been pretty damn lovely. The faint scent of damp earth, the rustling trees—all of it fresh and healthy and alive.

How had she never noticed how much life there was on the surface before now? Even the wind flowing through her hair felt like a living thing, winding soft fingers through and around the strands like it was trying to weave an intricate braid.

Shadowheart smiled briefly. “So you’ve said. Many times, I might add.”

“And it’s true every time!” Karlach sat right back up again. “When people tell you to stop and smell the flowers every now and then, they aren’t joking.”

Leviathala curled her legs and tail in towards her. “You’re telling me. It’s been so long since I’ve been outside the city. I’d forgotten how big the world truly is.”

“Right? There’s so much up top. I want to see it all!”

“I’ve been trying to keep an eye out for this gith crèche Lae’zel keeps mentioning,” Leviathala said. “So far, no luck.”

“Where is Lae’zel, anyway? I haven’t seen her since we came back.”

The sound of metal steadily clanking closer drew their attention. Lae’zel marched up to them in full plate-armor, helmet and all. “I am ready.”

Karlach raised an eyebrow. “Uh, what’s all that for?”

“Astarion informed me of the long-honored Faerûnian custom of Girls’ Night. I am merely prepared to undertake the trials ahead.” She scanned over the other women in their casual nightwear and frowned. “Why are you all so woefully unprepared?”

It was only when Leviathala failed to hide her laughter did it finally hit her.

Lae'zel lowered her longsword. “So, I assume Astarion has lied to me, then.”

“You can take all that off. Relax! Let your hair down!” Karlach patted the spare bedroll next to her.

Lae’zel scowled but shed her armor and sat all the same. “Chk! I will keep my hair as it is lest it get in my way. Perhaps Leviathala had the right idea in trimming away the excess.”

“Oh, I cut my hair myself.” Lev fluffed out the choppy dark strands with a proud smile.

Shadowheart threw her a pitying look. “It shows.”

At Lev’s frown, Karlach gave an uneasy laugh. “Hey, come on now! I think it looks great. A lot softer than my hair, anyway. Can’t do a thing with it when my hands are constantly on fire.”

Shadowheart made a face. “So it didn’t used to be that…crunchy?”

“I’m gonna ignore you calling it crunchy so my engine doesn’t explode on you.”

“Sorry, brittle. Is that better?”

“It was a lot curlier when I was younger,” Karlach said, ignoring her. “My mum almost drove herself to tears trying to get it together for parties. Didn’t help that I always wanted to go roughhouse instead of sit still. I was a right menace as a kid.”

“Sounds about right. I imagine curly hair looks nice on you, actually,” Shadowheart relented.

“What about you, Shadowheart? I’ve never seen your hair out of that neat braid. I bet you’ve got really gorgeous hair.” Karlach scooted as close as she dared.

Shadowheart flipped the braid back over her shoulder, preening. “Naturally. And as dark as the night, too.”

“Is this all a Girls’ Night entails?” Lae’zel snapped. “Encouraging each other’s vanity?”

“I mean, sometimes, but right now, we’re just talking. Warming up, getting to know each other.” Karlach rolled her shoulders like she was gearing for a fight. “Gotta stretch out the ol’ social skills again if we’re gonna be traveling together, right?”

“This is a waste of my time. I’m leaving.”

Before she could stalk back to her tent, Karlach yelled, “Boooo! Give it a chance, Lae’zel! We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet!”

Lev and Shadowheart exchanged a glance before looking expectantly at Lae’zel. Much as the gith tried to play stoic and untouchable, her desire to know more about this Plane far outshone that stubborn streak of hers.

“Very well. This had better be worth it.” She knelt on the bedroll Karlach had laid out for her, strategically placed furthest away from Shadowheart.

“So, of everyone in our camp…” Karlach held up three fingers. “Who would you snog, marry, or kill?”

Both Lev and Shadowheart groaned while Lae’zel merely blinked.

“Gods, I haven’t played that since I was twelve,” Lev said, barely holding back a chuckle.

“Ah, ah! Answer the question, Lev!”

“Me? Why me first?”

“Because you’re the first one to talk! Why else?” Karlach said.

When Lev waved her away, she only leaned in closer. “Come on, Lev! Just pick three of us! Could even be one of us three.”

“Oh? In that case, I would kill Shadowheart,” Lae’zel said without hesitation.

Shadowheart scowled. “The feeling is mutual, gith. You’re lucky Lev stepped in the last time I tried to kill you or I would have slaughtered you in your sleep.”

Lae’zel immediately drew a dagger. “Try your luck and see where such talk will lead, istik. I will not hesitate to put you in your place this time.”

“Girls, girls, come on! Can you stop antagonizing each other for like two minutes?” Karlach sighed. “I just wanna have a little fun with my new mates. Is it really so much to ask for you two to calm down for a night?”

Lae’zel and Shadowheart glared at one another for a moment longer before settling back in their respective bedrolls.

“I will honor this Girls’ Night by quelling my fury. Do not expect it to last into the morning,” Lae’zel sniffed.

An awkward smile crept along Karlach’s lips. She had to get this girls’ night going properly or it’d all fall apart. “R-Right, so kiss, marry, kill. Who wants to go first?”

Lev took a long sip of water, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Shadowheart and Lae’zel both refused to look at the other, instead glaring off into different points in the distance.

“Fine. I’ll go then!” Karlach grumbled. Better to lead by example and all that. “Snog Astarion. Marry either Wyll or Shadowheart. Probably Wyll. My heart fluttered when he went against Mizora for me. I’ll never forget that. Kill…wait, hold on…”

“No, you started it. Now finish it,” Shadowheart said. “Go on. Tell us which one of us you’d kill given the choice.”

“Aw, that’s not fair! I just met you all like a tenday ago!”

“And yet here you are potentially offering me your arm in marriage.” Shadowheart shook her head. “And you haven’t even taken me out for dinner. I haven’t met your parents yet, either. Surely, we’d want their blessing first.”

Ah man. She really was someone to take home to the folks. If they were still alive, no doubt they’d find Shadowheart just as endearing as Karlach did.

Still, that wasn’t really something you told a tentative friend. She scooted just a little closer to her githyanki companion. “Lae’zel? What about you?”

Lae’zel scowled and she almost backed away. Maybe she thought this all too childish. Giths were pretty vicious from what little she knew about them. What if she thought all this was beneath her or something?

“Snogging is…sex, yes?” she began uneasily.

“Er, no, it’s more just…kissing. Y’know, making out?”

Lev almost spat out her water trying not to laugh. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t a gith equivalent to making out, Karlach.”

Lae’zel frowned. “This ‘making out’ is equivalent to snogging, then? Another word for a kiss?”

Bless her for trying, at least.

“Well, deeper kissing,” Lev offered.

“Sometimes with tongue,” Karlach supplied with a cheeky grin.

This time, Lev did spit out her water.

“Very well. I have made my choice.” Lae’zel’s eyes swept over their camp. “If you forced me under threat of death to snog any of our companions, I would choose you, Karlach. I believe you are best suited for the type of kissing I desire.”

Karlach’s grin only grew. “I’m flattered, thanks!”

“As for marriage, Wyll is the best choice by far. He is the most accustomed to this adventuring lifestyle and has more important political ties to this Baldur’s Gate than any of you. He is a worthy ally to have at my side.”

“Hey now, this isn’t something to take that seriously—”

“As for killing, well, if Shadowheart were no longer an option, then there is always Astarion.”

Karlach laughed. Even in silly games like this, Lae’zel gave it her all. “Wyll’s pretty popular, huh?”

“He was my choice for marry, too,” Lev piped up. “As for kill, I’d also choose Astarion. He wanted to kill me the first time we met, so it seems fair.”

“And who’re you snogging? Is it any of us?” Karlach gasped. “Is it Gale?”

“No, that’s all you’re getting from me.”

“Come on! That’s boring!”

“You never chose who you’d kill! Don’t come after me for not picking someone to kiss!”

“Why? Is the person you’d kiss someone embarrassing?” Shadowheart asked. The tiny glint in her eyes spelled mischief.

“No! I just…” Lev rolled her wrist uselessly. “Well, I’m not generally interested in that sort of thing until I get to know someone a lot more first.”

“But you do have someone in mind. I can sense it. That’s why you’re being so dodgy.” Shadowheart’s eyes roamed over the camp. Gale was preoccupied with organizing spell scrolls into everyone’s packs. Wyll fenced against a wooden dummy. Astarion stood farther off than the rest, engrossed in some book he’d pilfered from an old temple they raided not long ago.

“Being a cleric of Lady Shar has granted me far more wisdom into the darkness in others’ hearts than most,” she said. “In your heart of hearts, I know who lies at the center.”

Lev’s jaw tightened, her shoulders bunched together like she was about to bolt.

“It’s Withers, isn’t it?”

Lev blinked at her owlishly then both she and Karlach burst out laughing. The sound rang clear throughout the forest, a chorus that sent a few nearby birds flying.

“I never knew you were this funny, Shadowheart. You always seem so serious all the time!” Karlach said as she leaned back on her hands.

“I’m hilarious. Once you get to know me, that is.”

“Yes, well, once you get some alcohol into me, I might be more inclined to tell you all the truth,” Lev said. All three women immediately shoved the nearest bottles of wine they could towards her.

“Wow, okay, give me a minute to recover. Gods…”

“So, Shadowheart? Snog, marry, kill?” Karlach asked before she slung back a few gulps of Amnian Dessert Wine. The sweeter stuff wasn’t really to her taste, but being picky never got anyone anywhere good. Better to try all the new things she could while she had the chance.

“Hm, well, you all know I’d kill Lae’zel. Kiss…maybe Lev or Gale. They have very…soft-looking lips.” She gave Lev a quick once-over. “As for marriage, if any of you wish to open your hearts to Lady Shar—”

“Erm, hard pass,” Karlach said.

“Sorry, but no,” Lev replied.

“I serve but one deathless goddess: Vlaakith and Vlaakith alone.”

“Right, so, barring the usual religious factors, I’d probably marry Karlach. You look like you could take care of me properly. More so than any other person I’ve met so far.” Her eyes slid slyly to Lev. “No offense.”

“I wasn’t offended until you said that. But thanks, I guess.”

Karlach felt the engine in her chest burn just a tad hotter. “Fuck yes, I could take care of you! Trust Mama K to handle everything from here on out!”

“Of course. So long as you don’t expect me to call you Mama K. Karlach suits you just fine.” Shadowheart smiled from over her bottle of wine. “Now, who would you kill? Go on.”

“I’ll tell only if Lev says who she wants to kiss.”

“Er, we can’t both go at the same time. Which would you rather hear first?” Lev tilted her head towards Karlach, clearly indicating who she preferred.

“Snog, obviously!” Karlach said.

Shadowheart smirked. “Oh, yes, kiss first, please. This is the far more interesting option.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Lev said and downed the rest of her wine.

“Come on, Lev! Tell us!” Karlach said.

“Do tell. Then we can finally move on from this inane game and onto the best part Karlach has planned,” Lae’zel pointed out.

Karlach tried not to betray the fact that all she had planned next was several rounds of Truth or Dare or Strip Talis until they all passed out for the night. Whatever Lae’zel’s idea of a good time was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Lev sighed and waved them all closer at last. They all leaned in, straining to hear as she cupped both hands around her mouth.

“Astarion.”

Karlach blinked. “What? But you said you wanted to kill him!”

“Kill, snog…same thing at the end of the day.” Lev shrugged. “They both teach you how to empty yourself for someone. Love and hate ride a fine line or…something.”

“Wait, you can’t choose the same person for two different answers. That hardly seems fair,” Shadowheart said.

“Fine. Snog Gale then. Happy?”

“Nah, nah, hold on, soldier. I wanna know why you were so dodgy about answering. You got a crush on him, right?”

“Gods, we really are reverting back to teenagers, aren’t we?” Lev sighed. “Doesn’t really matter, I suppose. I already slept with him.”

Their collective gasps and screams of scandalized delight echoed for miles.

“No fucking way! Lev, you sly minx!” Karlach smacked the ground hard as she laughed. Blackened scorch marks in the shape of her hand torched the soil she touched.

Shadowheart covered her mouth with a hand. “You didn’t! Oh, Lev…”

“To think, you chose some malnourished parasite over me,” Lae’zel sniffed. “I don’t know if your refusal should be my shame or yours.”

“Wait, when? Were you drunk? Is that why?” Karlach asked, engine still pounding away to keep up with her excitement. Who knew quiet Lev had it in her?

“Er…”

“Whoa, you did him sober? On purpose?”

Lev covered her face with her hands. “Karlach, not so loud…”

“I was just teasing before, but damn, you really do like him, don’t you?”

Shadowheart smirked. “I never had any doubt. You two are always pushing one another’s buttons. It’s painful watching you sometimes.”

“It’s not as if I’m slinging horrid lines at him like he does with everyone else.”

“No, but what was it you said earlier? There’s a fine line between love and hate? Underneath all your insults and arguing, I’d wager you might be a little in love with him.”

“How presumptuous of you.” Lev stared off into the distance. “He asked me, by the way. It was a mutual agreement. He was probably just bored. It won’t happen again.”

A breezy sigh from behind them made Karlach sit straighter. They all glanced back to see Astarion hovering just a couple feet away. “Look, as charming as it is to hear you all gossip away within earshot of my tent, it is getting to be rather late.”

“Wait, what could you hear?” Lev asked, sounding a touch panicked.

“Nothing specific. Just noise. So I suggest you keep it down.” The edges of their silence caught his attention. “Why? Are you gossiping about the other two? Because if so, I want to join in.”

“Well, Karlach wanted a Girls’ Night, so I don’t think—”

Karlach felt the edges of her mind being nudged by Shadowheart. She tried to repress a shudder. All this tadpole-sharing business still took some getting used to.

Let him stay. I want to see where this goes, Shadowheart thought, throwing them all a sly smile. We can all make fun of him if he ends up crossing a line.

“No, no, he can stay for a bit,” Karlach said out loud. “Say, Astarion. If you could kiss anyone in camp right now, who would it be?”

He snorted. “Is this what your drunken rabble has been reduced to? Gods, that’s something ten year olds dabble in.”

Shadowheart smirked. “Funny, that’s almost exactly what Lev said.”

“And she’s right. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“So you have kissed someone at camp then?” she pressed. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Astarion faltered. “I was talking about kissing in general. I wouldn’t kiss any of you if you paid me.”

“Wow, that’s cold. I think quite a few of us are pretty kissable,” Karlach said. “Take Lev, for instance. She’s real cute, isn’t she?”

She tried not to laugh as Lev threw her an absolutely murderous look.

Much to her surprise, Astarion crooned, “Oh, dear Karlach. Does someone have a crush?”

“What? Not me! I was, er, I mean, Lev is cute! But I…or rather, you…”

“Because I’d advise against pursuing it,” he cut in impatiently. “Best take care that damned infernal engine of yours doesn’t explode under the pressure.”

“Hey! I’ve kept it intact for near-on ten years now. I can handle hanging around a cute girl or three.”

Astarion merely scoffed. “Yes, well, better to assuage your excitement now so we can all get our beauty rest. Gods know you need it.”

Lev flushed and stared at the dirt.

Okay, that was enough.

“Put a cork in it, Fancy Boy,” Karlach snapped. “If anything, you need it most. Those frown lines are really unbecoming, darling.”

“What? I don’t have…” He ran quick fingertips between his furrowed eyebrows. “I need to go.”

Astarion swept back to his tent, distraught in the wake of their laughter.

“Yeah, I can see what you like about him. He’s such a catch.” Karlach smiled conspiratorially at Lev. “Honestly, though, I can’t blame you. I’d ride that elf all night if I could.”

“Karlach!”

“He’s arrogant, a liar, and a pretty idiot,” Shadowheart added. “So yes, I’d imagine that’s why most people would fall in love with someone like him.”

Lae’zel made a face. “Beauty in itself is hardly a valuable trait. Especially when it so commonly fades with time.”

“Well, he is a vampire. At least his only redeeming quality will remain preserved.” Shadowheart shrugged. “Can’t say much about the rest of him, though.”

Lev sputtered, “I just like looking at him, is all.”

“Oh no, soldier, that’s how it starts, you know,” Karlach said. “Those longing looks are just the beginning. Next, it’s daydreaming about him and finding more excuses to talk to him—”

“Believe me, holding a conversation with him is the last thing I—”

“And trying desperately to get his attention,” Shadowheart said. “Don’t forget that one.”

“I don’t want his attention!”

“Ah, that’s all part of step one. Denial. You got it bad.” Karlach grinned. It’d been a while since she could grill someone like this without having to worry about being punished for it.

“There’s nothing to have. Besides, you want to snog him, too. Why am I the only one being made fun of?”

“I don’t know. You were the one who slept with him. You tell us.”

Shadowheart grimaced. “Actually, don’t tell us. I really don’t care to know.”

“How dull of you,” Lae’zel said. “I didn’t realize followers of Shar were so prudish considering the many depraved things that can happen in darkness.”

Leviathala choked back a laugh. “She has a point.”

“Huh. That’s the last time I defend you, then,” Shadowheart joked as she downed her cup of wine.

They spent the rest of the night falling into more drunk antics. “Never Have I Ever” devolved into a drinking competition of sorts between Karlach and Lae’zel that teetered on the dangerous as they both downed shot after shot, all while confessing horrible acts they committed in war. It was Shadowheart, of all people, who knocked back the least amount of shots purely due to her memory issues.

Then, as all childish sleepovers are wont to do, came “Truth or Dare”. That was quickly cut short the moment Lae’zel dared Shadowheart to a duel to the death. An all-out brawl was imminent. That was, until Lev stepped up to bat the sword of Lae’zel’s hand. “Enough! All of you stop it and go to bed!”

When they all simply stared at her, she added, “Now! What would your goddesses have to say about you engaging in such petty squabbles?”

Lae’zel scowled but conceded the point. Shadowheart merely sniffed and headed back to her tent to isolate herself from the riffraff. Girls’ night was officially over, but Karlach couldn’t complain. Her party was a riot, and all of them at the very least took the games seriously. Her comrades in the Hells (all of whom barely warranted the name) would often ignore her attempts at camaraderie or friendship. The only times she ever got along with any of them was when they were killing demons or ragging on each other.

Leviathala sat on one of the bedrolls Karlach had set up by the campfire, staring into the flames.

“You’re not heading back to your tent?” Karlach asked, taking a seat on the bedroll next to hers.

Lev offered her a small smile. “And leave you all alone? That’d be a sad way to end girls’ night, don’t you think?”

Karlach chuckled to herself. “I’d hug you if I wasn’t afraid of burning your…everything off.”

“I’m sure you could get a quick one in without doing too much damage. I’m not naturally fire-resistant for nothing, you know,” Lev teased. “Besides, you’ll be able to hug and touch people again soon. Whenever we run into Dammon, I’m sure he’ll have some good news for you.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be something? But for now, I don’t wanna think about it,” she sighed. “No good to get my hopes up when we don’t even know if it’s possible yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Karlach tossed another two logs onto the crackling embers of the dying fire.

“Do you need this?” Leviathala asked suddenly, holding out a thin vial of some clear liquid.

“What’s that?”

“Seed oil. For my horns. I bought a lot from that halfling druid in the Grove a while ago. I’ve been lending some of my stash to Wyll and showing him how to apply it, but I don’t think I ever asked you if you wanted some.”

Karlach glanced up at Leviathala’s own light blue horns curling up towards the sky like spiring towers. They were very carefully maintained, the tips dulled to more rounded points.

By contrast, her own were rough and worn. One of them had been broken off in a particularly nasty battle against a cambion that had casually insulted Zariel offhand. The archdevil sent Karlach to deal with it alone. By the time she returned, bruised and battered after slaying it and all its minions, Zariel tossed her right back onto the frontlines without so much as a short rest to heal up. Complaining about it after only earned her a dozen lashings and yet another sleepless night.

Karlach took the seed oil vial carefully in between forefinger and thumb, hoping whatever heat residing in her hands wouldn’t cause the cool glass to burst.

She knew she had lost quite a bit of her old life under Zariel’s service, but this was not something she even realized she missed. Karlach had grown too used to the ache of her horns growing out without anything to ease the pain. Just another misery to tack onto a long list serving under an archdevil.

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

“No problem. Let me know if you need any more. I have it all covered.”

“Right.”

It had been a long time since anyone had been so kind to her without expecting anything in return. Karlach found a lump growing in her throat and she blinked. Did being up on the surface really make her this soft already?

“Hey, soldier?” she said just to shake it off.

Lev shifted on her bedroll. “Hm?”

“Thanks for tonight. Really. It means a lot to me that you all tried to make it work.”

“Of course. I just hope next girls’ night won’t end in violence.”

“Next girls’ night?” A spark of hope lit in her chest.

“I don’t know when that would be, though,” Lev continued. “Hopefully Lae’zel and Shadowheart will have calmed down by the time we do get around to it. This was really fun before they got into it. Again.”

Karlach stared down at the vial in her hand, trying her hardest not to tear up. Gods, could she really afford to hope for a future? Was it okay for her to do that again?

A couple tears stubbornly spilled over and she swatted them away impatiently.

She glanced over at where Leviathala laid. “Soldier, you still awake?”

“Hm?” Lev’s eyes almost glowed in the dark. “Yeah, you okay?”

“Fine, just…” Karlach took a deep breath, clutching onto the seed oil vial tight. “Love you.”

The silence that followed ate at her. True, they hardly knew each other well enough to say stuff like that, but surely Leviathala understood where the urgency came from.

“Love you too, soldier,” Leviathala said, something like a smile in her voice. “Good night.”

“Yeah, night.”

Karlach stared up at the canopy of stars above her. A streak of bright light shot across and she closed her eyes, wishing with everything within her that this party of hers would never break apart. A childish, vain hope perhaps. But how long had it been since anyone fought tooth and nail for her? It would’ve been so easy to just let Wyll kill her upon first meeting, but they’d advocated for her—a tiefling they didn’t even know.

She laid on her side, staring at the little seed oil vial like it held all the most precious secrets in the world. Up here, with these people at her side, she could dare to hope. She could dream again, breathe free again.

Karlach took a deep breath and popped the cork.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Karlach #Astarion x Tav #very briefly in the background #Damn It's Good to Be Alive! (Karlach)#Wits and Blades Always Sharp (Shadowheart)#The Wayward Tactician (Leviathala)#Keep a Blade Close (Astarion)#One with the Weave (Gale)#Hero at Heart (Wyll)#I am Fury! I am Death! (Lae'zel)#my fanfiction #The Hero and Me (Promotion)

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squid-procrow · 6 months

Text

As Gale's on the mind again, time to bring up BG1 lore about mystra!

For anybody who truly doesn't think Gale was groomed, that a good god would NEVER!

This isn't even the first time she's done something like this, sure it wasn't grooming for Dornar Silverhand but she did take over his love interests body so she could manipulate him into children...

Tldr She takes over a girl (who was enthusiastic to be a goddess's chosen, then unsure once she realized it was for this) to convince a guy (her very loyal follower who was already in love so he said no) for kids.

He watches his wife become a literal shell of herself so that she can have seven children with the energy of both their parents. And he ends up having to kill his wife because she's become a lich shell of a person.

To which after he cuts her head off mystra shows up and goes "yeah sorry, my doing." And he loses it, running from Neverwinter up to the north and disappearing until he dies for 30 years where she continues to protect him.

The worst part? Dornar goes back to her after it all, helping her find more chosen. What Gale could have been.

I feel like a big part of the story that the writers were trying to tell us was that even if you were formally mortal the second you go on to the pedestal of a previous God you inhabit who they were, and mystra is the weave before all.

It fits perfectly with the Durge (and Astarion) storylines, if you don't remove yourself completely from the cycle you will inevitably become what you dislike, even if you intended for the best.

Below is the full txt

History of the Chosen of Mystra:

The reason why Mystra, the Goddess of Magic, invested a portion of her divine might into mortals is not known. One of the popular theories, and one that is gaining more support in light of the other goddess' during that period, is that Mystra foresaw the Time of Troubles (and her own passing at the hands of Helm) and chose to give some of her powers to mortals in order to ensure that her successor (the female mage, Midnight, as it turned out) would have a number of nearly immortal allies in the struggle against the schemes of the gods (the now dead Bane, Myrkul and Bhaal) who precipitated the Time of Troubles by stealing the Tablets of Fate.

The theory goes on to suggest that Mystra informed Azuth at approximately the Year of the Rising Flame (0 DR), more than 1,300 years ago before the Times of Troubles, that some of her power must be put into the hands of mortals who would then become known as Mystra's Chosen. The power would sleep within the bodies of those mortals, allowing Mystra only to call on it only with their permission. It would give the Chosen to innate ability to heal quickly, and would give them life spans far greater than those of ordinary mortals. Mystra speculated that these mortals might be able to call on her power and thereby gain some special abilities, but that these powers would not rival those of a deity. (See "Powers" below.)

The Goddess of All Magic then began to select mortals she thought to be suitable. One of the first was the young mage Elminister, and she also singled out a promising wizard named Khelben Arunsen. Both of them proved to be worthy and capable receptacles of her power, but Mystra's other early attempts to invest her power in living humans were unsuccessful, and she came to realize that only a very few mortals were of stern enough substance to contain such power within themselves without being destroyed or corrupted. Even though some people aside from Elminister and Khelben may have possessed the requisite strength, it is possible that having lived for years prior to being visited by Mystra had set them on a path from which they were not able to deviate. Whatever the reason, the problem needed to be solved. To get around the difficulty, Mystra devised a plan to use herself as a vessel to breed individuals who could be nurtured and acclimated to her power from the very beginnings of their lives.

For the father of these individuals, she picked the best example of human stock she could find: Dornar Silverhand, a nobleman and a former Harper who lived near Neverwinter. Mystra then possessed the body of Elue Shandur, a helf-elven sorceress whom Dornal was already attracted to. Mystra revealed her presence and her plan to Eleu, who happily and eagerly agreed to have the goddess share her body. Eleu had been reluctant, but under the influence of Mystra the woman became a seductress, and Dornal found his advances being suddenly returned with great fervor.

Dornal and Mystra/Eleu were wed in the Year of the Drifting Stars (760 DR). The first of the seven daughters, Anastra Syluné, was born the following winter. Sylune's six sisters emerged at one-year interval thereafter: Endue Alustriel, Ambara Dove, Ethena Astorma (she prefers the name "Storm" these days), Anamanué Laeral, Alassa Shentrantra (known today as the Simbul) and Erésseae Qilué. These siblings have become known in Realmsian lore as the Seven Sisters.

Dornal, who had been kept in the dark about his wife's true nature through the years (presumably because Mystra didn't want to risk losing his services), was disappointed and distraught by the time his sixth child was born; he had always wanted sons as well as daughters. More importantly, he was seeing his wife deteriorate right before his eyes. The strain of coexisting with the goddess all these years had turned Eleu into a withered shell - in essence a lich, clinging to life only because Mystra's power was within her.

When Eleu was carrying the seventh child, Dornal consulted a priest who told him his wife had been possessed by a entity of great magical power. To spare both of them any further agony, he attempted to slay his wife's physical form by severing her head from her body.

As soon he had done this, Mystra was forced to reveal herself to him, and she went on to explain her scheme. Just as she had worried would happen, Dornal was aghast at how he and his wife had been used by the goddess. He turned his back on the corpse of his wife, abandoned his lands and his children, and vanished into the North. Mystra bore him no ill will, and in fact protected him for the final 30 years of his life. When Dornal finally did meet his end he called out to Mystra, and the goddess granted his continued existence as her servant. Now known as the Watcher, Dornal Silverhand travels the world unseen by mortals on a continuing mission to locate candidates to swell the ranks of the Chosen and to identify possible threats to Mystra and her minions

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale #gale of waterdeep #bg1 #in game book #book 34 #but no seriously #mystra was probably lovely or whatever before being the goddess #but now the only thing she cares about is maintaining the balance #maintaining the weave #yes that involves manipulation of a few mortals #it also involves thinking she's so much better than the other gods that she can just storm her way back up to heaven after she was told no #another big part of understanding how she's a good god while still being a horrible person #probably comes from the mindset that morality and the alignment is self-focused rather than society focused #good is not necessarily helping everyone #good is putting things above your own benefit #a paladin can be good while still slaughtering a whole city because he is protecting his village. err or you can stretch it like that #I recall a book from one of the two games about tyr having his army burn down an elven city because he wanted on the other side #they told him to go around #he took it as anti-help and killed them #the gods dont care #anyways rambling over

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