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brabblesblog · 4 months

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Ch 14: For love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

The rescue attempt goes off with some hitches.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

The morning light was streaming through the window when Astarion looked up to see Gale walk into the room. His tressym followed, fixing Astarion with a stare that felt a little too penetrating for what was, in his not-so-humble opinion, essentially a glorified cat.

“Are you ready?” Gale asked, leaning on his staff.

“Indeed.” Astarion’s tone was surly, an attempt to mask his weariness. He had maintained the mental link with Ban until she had fallen asleep. Even now a part of him cradled her mind, soothing her through the worst of the torment.

Astarion belatedly realized that he was not only exhausted, he was hungry and having difficulty concentrating. He’d only had one meal since arriving in Waterdeep, and between maintaining the mental link for so long and his state of stress, the lack of sleep and blood was noticeable. Today, he was especially glad that the sanguine hunger no longer tormented him, but blood helped him maintain his strength, kept his mind clear, and gave him energy. Energy he desperately could have used today. Grumbling, he picked up Woe.

“Do you need me to reiterate the-”

“Gods, Gale. Do you think me so stupid I can’t remember your frankly rudimentary plan?” Astarion waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s just go.”

Gale exhaled. “Here.” He stepped forward, holding out a small pouch.

Astarion hesitated before gingerly accepting the proffered bag with some suspicion.

“Healing potions. I prepared two. One for her, one for… potential mishaps.”

Astarion tucked the pouch away. “Thank you.” The words came out in an awkward drawl, his discomfort in expressing gratitude obvious.

The tressym kept staring at Astarion; he glanced down at it, fidgeting under its piercing gaze. “If your claws and teeth matched the enormity of your judgment, cat, then I’d perhaps be interested to hear what you have to say.”

“Tara,” Gale chided gently, though he wasn’t surprised she disapproved of the Ascendant. Gale had told her everything; she was fond of Ban and she’d rather liked when Ban had stayed with them.

She fixed Gale with a long, hard stare before turning to leave, flicking her tail haughtily as she went.

“Sorry,” Gale shrugged.

Astarion didn’t deign to answer, although he was privately rather affronted by her judgment. Damned cat.

Gale led Astarion through Waterdeep, heading for the Stedez mansion. It was far smaller than the Crimson Palace, though no less imposing. Astarion stayed a few steps behind him, mind still connected to Ban’s. As they approached the mansion, she kept slipping in and out of consciousness. He could see through her eyes each time she awoke, the visions merely feeding his rage.

“They should be asleep,” Gale mused. In theory, it would be easy to sneak in undetected, free Ban, and slip back out. But he wasn’t sure if Astarion was willing to let this affront go unpunished. He wasn’t sure if he was willing to let it go, either.

“Well if they aren’t,” Astarion hissed, his eyes glinting with a devilish glee that bordered on madness. “All the better.”

Gale stood in front of the large door of the Stedez mansion, steeling himself before knocking. He was disguised as an elf. Astarion hid nearby, invisible. All part of the plan, and yet Gale couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. It had been more than half a year since he had done anything remotely close to this, and he wondered if he was still capable. These days he was a professor, not a warrior, his life revolving around his students and books.

And sometimes Ban, he thought ruefully. The time she’d spent in his tower had been special.

Gale turned his attention back to the matter at hand as the door creaked open.

A tall, scantily clad servant eyed Gale curiously. Just like Cazador, Vel Stedez’s public persona was that of an affluent, if eccentric, nobleman. As such, the mansion rarely received visitors.

“Greetings,” the servant said, “You seem… lost. What can I do for you?”

“Is this not Saer Vel Stedez’s abode?” Gale offered his most winsome smile. “I’m here on behalf of the Blackstaff Academy. Saer Vel and I have corresponded about his most generous donation, for which the Academy is very grateful. In fact,” Gale held up an index finger, “I am here today to discuss a ball the Academy wishes to host in his honor!”

The servant hesitated. No instructions regarding visitors had been given today, but her vain master would most certainly want to hear about this. Gale noticed her moment of indecision and pressed his advantage, stepping forward so the servant was forced to open the door far enough for Astarion to very carefully slip inside, a small whisper of air the only sign of his movement.

“I- of course, saer,” the servant conceded. She beckoned Gale in, and he stepped over the threshold, shivering involuntarily at the chilly temperature inside the manse.

Gale noted that the house was eerily reminiscent of Cazador’s - and Astarion’s - iterations of the Szarr Mansion.

Dark marble floors and mahogany walls lent a sense of ominousness, thick curtains blocking out any sunshine that threatened to shine through. The air was stale, cold and tomblike, as if the mansion was frozen in time.

Astarion noticed the similarities too, stifling a snort. At least our marble is white. That had been Ban’s idea. The thought caused a pang of worry; he pushed it away quickly. Moving past Gale and the servant, he headed deeper into the mansion, taking the first set of stairs he found leading down.

Meanwhile, Gale let the servant lead him to a study.

“Saer…” the servant began, fishing for his name.

“Er. Dammon,” Gale said, cursing himself for not thinking up a name ahead of time.

“Saer Dammon,” the servant continued. “Kindly wait here while I inform the master of your arrival.”

The prospect of meeting the vampire lord alone made Gale a bit anxious, but he nodded. It was a possibility he hadn't wanted to contemplate too closely when they had planned this, but if all hell broke loose he knew he would be able to handle one vampire.

He hoped Astarion got to Ban fast.

The dungeon smelled putrid, like sewers and rust and congealed blood-

The iron-rich scent gave Astarion a longing for blood - a now-unfamiliar craving, all but forgotten after all this time. It caught him by surprise. He hadn’t hungered for blood, not since the rite, but the smell of it reminded him of just how exhausted he was. Some blood would be the perfect thing to perk him up. He sighed, shaking his head, and pushed on.

The dungeons were unguarded, just as Gale had surmised. After all, Vel’s coven lacked crucial information: the Ascendant didn’t need to be invited in to enter a domicile.

His eyes scanned the dimly lit dungeon, searching for Ban. He spotted her in the furthest cell and rushed forward with preternatural speed. As he reached the cell, Gale’s concentration broke; Astarion’s hands and body became visible again.

Ban? He tried to nudge her mind, and felt her stir.

The sight of her chained to the damp wall, her body sagging onto the filthy floor, broke his heart. Ban was mostly unharmed, though those cruel silver manacles had severely burned her wrists. He’d seen more than his fair share of torture, of course, but seeing it done to her brought forth a wave of indignation so strong it instantly became wrath.

How dare they. I will burn this entire mansion and everyone in it to ash for this.

He pulled out his tools, nimble hands working at the lock of the cell door, but it took longer to pick than it should have, owing to his trembling fingers.

Astarion heard a satisfying click and pushed the door open. Ban’s eyes opened and took a moment to focus, finally settling on him. He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“You’re okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you. Words he’d spoken before she’d told him she loved him for the very first time. Words she’d told him the night before the rite. Always meant, always realized.

Ban merely nodded in response, slumping tiredly into Astarion’s arms. The movement caused her wrists to drag against the manacles and she gasped. He looked up at them, frowning, assessing the locks.

“Let me get you out.”

He reached for the first manacle, fingers moving across the surface of the silver. It made his skin sizzle, his fingertips burning where they made contact. The pain was sharp, but pain wasn’t new to him; he ignored it. He quickly worked one manacle open, then the other.

Ban’s hands fell to her sides; they'd gone numb after being held up for so long. Astarion firmly rubbed her arms to encourage blood flow, avoiding the burned parts of her wrists.

“Ban.” When she didn’t respond immediately, concern flooded him. He tapped her face hoping to rouse her, to no avail. Reaching into the pouch Gale had provided, he took out a flask and uncapped it. “Drink,” he urged, his eyes locked on her as she complied.

He gave her another once-over, noting that her complexion looked better. But not enough so. He fingered the cap of the remaining potion, debating. He could have her drink it now, but what if she needed it later? She could barely move, but he couldn’t risk using their last potion yet.

Determined, he reached a decision.

Ban watched with dazed eyes as Astarion lowered himself to her, cradling her head and tilting his head to bare his neck, a gesture that needed no words.

She obliged, fangs sinking into the scars Cazador had made centuries ago. She drank ravenously, her instincts taking over.

Astarion felt the icy numbness begin; the tips of his ears and his fingers started to grow numb. In spite of the situation, he felt a flood of contentment fill him. Ban had so rarely bitten him that even in this filthy dungeon, the joy of nourishing her was immense. Exhausted as he was, though, it didn’t take long for his vision to start to blur and his heart to flutter. He lifted a hand to her shoulder, a gentle reminder to stop.

The memory of the first time he bit her came to him unbidden; he couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face.

Ban immediately stilled at the touch, pulling her fangs out of his flesh. After a light swipe of her thumb to clean up, she leaned back.

“Sorry. I jus-” She looked down at her shirt, at the tear where the stake had been shoved in. “I still can’t believe I’m alive…”

Astarion felt only relief suffusing his being. He cupped Ban’s cheek and leaned in. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, but he hesitated. We don’t have the luxury of time.

“Let’s go,” he said, “It’s daytime. Most of them should be asleep.”

Ban followed Astarion out of the cell, but paused as his words sunk in - most?

“You said ‘most’.”

He sighed. “Yes. Unfortunately I suspect the master of the house to be awake.” Gale’s plan, after all, had hinged on it. He explained the plan to Ban, retrieving Woe from where he’d dropped it in his rush to free her.

“You expected Gale to - to distract Vel?” Ban was incredulous. Gale, really?

“Well- who else? Would you rather it be me doing the talking while Gale snuck around?”

She conceded the point. Gale had always been atrocious at stealth.

“So we have to kill Vel.” Ban spied a chest near the entrance of the dungeon; she opened it to reveal her pack and her sword. She dug through the pack, tossing out various unneeded items, then slung the now-lighter pack over her shoulder. She kept her sword in hand.

“I’m not displeased by the notion?” Astarion smirked. “But I didn’t exactly promise Gale I’d save him either, you know.”

“Ass.” She tried to smack his arm but he dodged it easily, his laughter pealing a little too loudly for the situation they were currently in. “If anything, you should be thanking Gale for coming with you.”

The laughter died and Astarion turned solemn. “He’s here for you. If he had his way I would be staked somewhere and you’d be in his arms.”

“Perhaps.” Ban shrugged. She looked at her husband, noting the taut expression and the tense set of his shoulders. “Problem?”

He took a moment to answer, gathering his thoughts. “I’m… envious of how easy it is for him to get you to confide in him. How easily you confide in all of them.” To trust them.

Astarion knew that Ban loved him the most; he did not doubt that at all. But did she truly trust him? It wasn’t something that would return without work from the both of them, he was perfectly aware, and yet the feeling was there. Jealousy, poisonous and foul and always lurking in his chest.

Before Ban could assuage his fears, they were back at the entrance hall.

“Do you know where-”

The question died in Ban’s throat. There was a disturbance in one of the rooms, going by the sounds emanating from it. They both rushed forward; Ban shouted for Gale, trying to ascertain his current state. Once again, Astarion found himself resenting the wizard.

The door was ajar; Ban rushed in to see an elf being held down by Enxisys and Miaxisys. The elf looked up at her, and she realized it was Gale. He was on his knees, his staff on the ground in front of him.

Astarion, right on Ban’s tail, halted for a different reason. Enxisys and Miaxisys were holding onto Gale, but their gazes were fixed on Astarion, numb expressions entirely too familiar. It brought forth a wave of memories, recollections that he had been pushing away - hiding from - since the rite. He forced them down as best he could, focusing on Vel and the situation at hand, but he wasn’t wholly successful.

“Look who decided to join us, hm?” Vel said, rounding on Ban. She immediately leveled her sword at his chest.

“Not another step,” Ban growled.

Vel laughed, raising his hand, Rhapsody in his grasp. “See, I knew the wizard would come to save you,” he said, pointing the dagger at the disguised Gale. “What I didn’t expect-”

Four more of Vel’s spawn came in behind Ban and Astarion as their master spoke, blocking their retreat.

“-was you, Ascendant.” The words were spat out, the contempt unmistakable.

“If you thought I wouldn’t come for her-“

“Oh, no! I know you’d come, eventually.” Vel snapped his fingers and the four vampires blocking the door closed the distance, crowding Ban and Astarion from behind. “That was the whole point.” He waved his hand indifferently.

“But I honestly expected you to make someone else do the grunt work first. I didn’t consider the fact that you might be able to… circumvent… some of our kind’s more peculiar quirks.”

“You know perfectly well I am stronger than you could ever hope to be, and yet you didn’t consider the possibility that I could enter your home uninvited as well?” He laughed without humor. “I can circumvent whatever the hells I damn well please, Vel. That includes your miserable existence.” He took a step towards Vel. Immediately the four spawn reacted, surrounding Astarion.

Ban weighed the situation. Seven vampires - well, six spawn and a vampire lord - against Gale, Astarion, and herself. Manageable, but not without risk. Especially with Gale held down and Astarion having given her so much of his blood. She would have laughed if it wasn’t such an ill-timed moment.

Rapidly, she reached a conclusion. She squared her shoulders and shot Gale a meaningful look.

Get ready.

Almost imperceptibly, Gale nodded.

The three of them glanced at each other, the long months of fighting as a unit resurfacing with ease. Everyone braced.

It all happened in an instant.

Ban dropped her pack and activated giant form, greatsword rising as though to cut Vel down. She knew she would miss - and indeed, as she swung Vel dodged effortlessly - but it was enough to draw Enxisys’ and Miaxisys’ attention. Their grip on Gale eased as they hesitated, torn between their obligation to protect their master and holding Gale down.

It was all Gale needed. He rose, Markoheshkir in hand, and called lightning. It struck the twins, Vel, and one of the four spawn near Astarion. The spawn did not get up.

Astarion seized the opportunity, turning to one of the remaining spawn and blighting him. The spawn crumpled, meeting his second death.

Ban raised her arms for another strike at Vel, the arc of her sword cut short when a blur of motion passed in front of her. Astarion lunged at Vel with inhuman speed, pinning him to the ground and shoving his fist into Vel’s mouth.

He turned to Ban with a pained expression. Astarion had seen the way Vel’s spawn had looked at their master; had known that look.

“Wait!” he panted. Vel was thrashing and biting, but the Ascendant was unaffected, holding him down without effort, his other hand pinning down the arm holding Rhapsody.

The four surviving spawn froze, unsure. If they made a move, they would be overwhelmed by the wizard and the consort. If they didn’t, and their master survived, he would punish them for it…

“Ban.” Astarion’s pained expression deepened into anguish. “Let them do it. Let them do what I should have done.”

“Can they? Won’t he compel them not to hurt him?”

“Not if we cut out his tongue,” Astarion’s voice was severe, rough with emotion.

Belatedly, Ban and Gale realized why Astarion had his fist in Vel’s mouth. Ban nodded, stepping on Vel’s weapon hand so Astarion could let go. Gale picked up Woe from where Astarion had dropped it, his face somber.

Astarion pried Rhapsody from Vel’s hand. He pulled Vel’s offensive tongue from his mouth and severed it with one quick slice, tossing it to the side. Vel’s wordless screams should have been satisfying. But he felt no joy - only a pang of regret, of shame. Rhapsody fell from his grasp just as swiftly as he’d used it. The last time I cut someone with that dagger… He shuddered at the memory.

This should have been how it went for me. With his friends present and his siblings at his side, working together to end their master’s life.

Astarion pulled away from Vel’s face to kneel beside him, holding his chest down, breathing hard. He turned to the spawn. They stared at him, still uncertain.

“Go on,” he urged, “Take what should be yours. What should have always been yours. Your freedom awaits.”

Freedom. He offered Ban a sad smile.

It should have always been yours as well, my love.

Ban’s response was a small, sad smile and a flood of warmth through their connection.

Vel’s spawn seemed to be recovering from the shock. They approached one another, quietly discussing Astarion’s offer amongst themselves. One of the spawn, the drow male who had helped abduct Ban, murmured an apology to her.

But neither Ban nor Astarion noticed. The only thing they saw was each other, eyes locked as they shared their emotions through their bond. Astarion’s mind was in turmoil, a dark maelstrom of conflicting, stormy thoughts that threatened to envelop him. Endless waves of rage, fear, regret, shame, and sadness were swirling, building upon the other until they were very close to overwhelming him. Ban could feel that he was on the verge of panicking.

She quickly sheathed her sword and approached Astarion, offering him a hand up, pulling him into an embrace.

Astarion let Ban pull him up and into a hug, squeezing her as tightly as she held him. He wanted to sob, to finally say I did the right thing, but he knew it was too late for him. He’d hurt her, he’d murdered his siblings, he’d driven away his friends and sacrificed all seven thousand of those poor souls.

But as Ban had drawn him up, she had turned her back on Vel. Had lifted her boot from his wrist. Had caused Astarion to let him go.

Movement over Ban’s shoulder drew Astarion’s attention. He saw Vel rise lightning-fast, Rhapsody in hand, poised for a strike, blade already arching down towards Ban’s back.

If I can be enough for only one thing, I hope it will be saving her.

With every ounce of strength he could muster, Astarion shoved Ban to the side. He felt a flash of relief as she was flung across the room, out of range of Vel’s swing.

As it had sunk into his former master’s back, Rhapsody sank into Astarion’s breast.

Into his heart.

96 notes · View notes

thecampjuicebox · 6 months

Note

If I might make a request: Give us the Gale epilogue that we never got. Gale cooking dinner for Tav and Tara. Given the fact that Tara hisses at Tav on their first meeting, I feel like she'd really interrogate them, and Gale would be oblivious to the tension.

Oh my GODS I adore this idea. Okay okay. Here we go, I hope you enjoy!!

Third Degree

Pairing: Tav (f) x Gale (m) x Tara (f tressym)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

Warnings: Tara being an overall nuisance, angst, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, game spoilers

You clasp your hands for a moment, squeezing the trembling appendages together to attempt to soothe your anxiety. A bottle of perfectly aged wine nestled between your forearm and breasts. Questioning your sudden bout of anxiety, you shake your head. It was just Gale, after all. You've shared many a meal with the wizard, shoulders touching next to the camp fire. You've shared many a night with him as well. Tangled in the weave. Your mouth waters at the memory, a familiar tingling in your core. No, what worries you now is Tara. Gale's tressym and most trusted friend. Gale spoke about her regularly. You'd met her once in Baldur's Gate, the encounter going less than well. You still remember the way she hissed at you, fangs bared in a hostile fashion. Gale didn't even seem to notice, his excitement purely on seeing the tressym so far from Waterdeep. Shaking your head, you ascend the stairs to the front door of his tower. Waterdeep is comfortably warm this time of year, a gentle breeze sweeping the soft fabric of your skirts. You scoff at yourself, peering down at the outfit you spent entirely too long at Figaro's trying to pick out. You settled on a emerald green velvet dress, adorned with gold filigree that sparkles in even the faintest of candlelight. It hugs your supple curves in all of the right ways, accentuating the roundness of your hips. Figaro gushed about how it perfectly complimented your complexion, the rest of the shop's clientele dropping what they were doing to gawk at you like you were a fine piece of art in a grand foyer.

Your pale white hair is plaited neatly, 2 thick braids hanging over your tired shoulders, a few loose strands hanging about your flushed cheeks. Gale has always loved the white shade of your hair, often comparing it to starlight. He reveled at your ancient elven roots on a regular basis, often finding comfort and pure joy in listening to your story telling, bouncing tales back and forth with Halsin at camp. You miss the comradery that traveling had to offer. Always someone to talk to. To confide in. Now, you spend your days simply reminiscing on what once was. Baldur's Gate, while bustling with life now after the city has begun to rebuild, still feels so.. desolate. Lonely. You're startled by the sudden swinging open of the front door, the brown haired Wizard leaning against the door frame, blue robes covered by a some-what messy apron. He grins in your direction, eyes scanning your frame before settling on the bottle of wine. You notice his stare, eyes narrowing and you grasp the bottle by the neck to hand it over to his eager hands.

"An Athkatlan Clarry? Impressive. Come come come, dinner is almost ready. And my gods, you look stunning."

You blush and nod once, lifting the end of your dress to move onto the final step, crossing the threshold. Taking a moment to gather your bearings, you scan the room. Books and scrolls are scattered on every open table top, not messily, but definitely in no form of organization. A few pillar candles are lit to create ambiance, the scent of whatever Gale was cooking filling the room with a delicious cloud and you tilt your head up to better inhale. You mumble a soft "mmm.." to yourself. A gentle hand rests against the small of your back and Gale gazes down at you, thumb rubbing back and forth against the velvet of your dress. You sink into his frame and drink in his familiar warmth. Gods, you've missed him. His scent. His strong chest and toned arms. His embrace. He sets the bottle of wine down on the nearest table and wraps both arms around your short body, snaking underneath your arms so you're forced to place them on his shoulders. He places the softest kiss between your eyes, making your lashes flutter at the sudden skin to skin contact, earning a comfortable sigh from you.

"I've missed you, my little piece of starlight."

You giggle quietly, tilting your head up slightly to bump your nose against his. He wiggles his nose back against yours, head turning side to side to make the tips brush ever so slightly past each other.

"Ahem."

Gale's head turns quickly towards the sound and his eyes meet with Tara's, her small wings fluttering in annoyance. He smiles up at her as she descends the spiral staircase, whiskers twitching at the new smells. You take a step away from Gale. He looks at you with confusion before Tara stops in front of you, small pink nose wiggling from side to side, assessing you. Her green eyes pierce a whole right into your skull, seemingly picking your entire being apart with a single stare. You smile nervously, raising a hand to gesture a simple wave at her. Her eyes flick to Gale and she turns around, tail swishing behind her as she walks towards the doorway of the kitchen, looking back over her shoulder to assure that Gale is going to follow her. He does. The wizard intertwines his fingers with yours and gently pulls you along with him, scooping the bottle of wine from the table he originally sat it down on.

The kitchen is swirling with the most delectable scents you've ever experienced, a mixture of herbs you can't quite pinpoint. Your palette was so used to the random assortment of foods you could find while traveling, so this was truly gourmet in your eyes. Hells, a simple lamb shank would sent your salivary glands into overdrive, had you the opportunity to obtain one. Gale saunters over to a grand brick fireplace, carefully lifting the lid of the cauldron hanging above the crackling fire and giving its contents a look. He wafts the smell up into his nose, steam swirling in translucent white tendrils into the air, his eyes nearly rolling all the way back into his skull. He places the lid back on the cauldron and mumbles an incantation, extinguishing the once roaring fire beneath the cast iron. Tara rests comfortably on a stool at the large oak table on the far side of the room, her eyes fixed on you. You tuck a piece of hair behind your pointed ear and make your way to Gale, who is now fetching plates and cutlery from the cupboard, hands carefully gripping the silver as to not smudge its shiny surface.

"Need some help, my sweet?"

Your voice trickles out like honey, making the wizard's hairs stand on end and he smiles at you, eyes twinkling.

"Gods, no. Make yourself comfortable in any seat you'd prefer. I'm sure Tara would love to get to know you better. She does love stories."

He nods his head to the side, pointing in Tara's direction and you huff quietly. With calculated steps, you find a stool across the table from Tara, eyes watching her just as she watches you. Gale turns his back to the two of you and continues on his mission to fetch the nicest dishes he can find, pulling a silver chalice from the top shelf of the cupboard and giving it a gentle shine with the corner of his apron. He hums quietly to himself. Your hands fall to your lap and you lower your gaze, picking at your fingernails.

"So.."

"Hm. So?"

Tara's tone of voice is stern, but also hushed as to not alert Gale of her intentions to absolutely interrogate you. You're not stranger to interrogations, having persuaded your way in and out of some of the most dangerous situations. This, however. This felt more difficult than any of that. Tara raises a paw to her lips, her eyes still not leaving you and she licks long, gentle strokes along the back of her paw, claws extended slightly as a warning. You clear your throat and rub your fingers over your knuckles, fidgeting with the thin gold ring Gale had given to you after the fight with the Nether Brain. You smile down at the piece of jewelry, eyes flicking to the side to watch gale from your peripherals. He continues his preparations, now filling the plates with the food he's perfected, steam clouding his little area of the kitchen now. Carefully, Gale walks to the table, setting a plate filled with assorted vegetables and a large piece of what looks to be goose down in front of you. Your nostrils perk up at the smell, saliva pooling in the back of your throat. You swallow harshly and smile up at him, ready to absolutely tear into the food, and potentially Gale for dessert. You giggle at the thought, covering your mouth with the back of your index finger to stifle the noise.

"Thank you, my love. It looks delicious."

Gale beams at your compliment. You love the way his eyes light up when anyone compliments him, for literally anything. Back at camp, you relished telling him how nice his hair looked, or how neatly he had trimmed his beard, or how his ideas were good ones, even then they absolutely weren't. You'd do just about anything to see that man smile. Tara tuts and waits patiently for her plate to be set down in front of her, sparing the niceties before leaning down to take a bite of the perfectly crispy goose flesh. She purrs happily. Gale leaves the table momentarily and you sit, hands in your lap, waiting for him to return before even considering taking a bite of your food. It was a habit your mother instilled in you at a very young age. Returning with a chalice full of the wine you brought, he gently presses a kiss atop your head, making your cheeks flush at the simple gesture of love. He sits on the stool beside you and claps his hands once in excitement, rubbing them together quickly before lifting his fork and digging in. You do the same, lifting the silver utensil carefully, stabbing the prongs of the fork into the impossibly tender piece of goose breast. You earn a small piece and quickly lift it to your mouth, the flavor setting your taste buds ablaze. You close your eyes and chew slowly, a quiet "mm.." rumbling in your chest and you swallow.

"Gale this is.. incredible. Truly."

His cheeks flush and he nods, working through chewing the too-large bite of potato he shoved into his mouth. Tara silently laps at the remnants of goose on her plate, already finished since she didn't have the decency to wait for Gale to join the table. Gale points his fork in Tara's direction, mouth still full of food and he speaks in jumbled words.

"So, I assume the two of you have gotten acquainted, yes?"

Tara and you exchange glances, you breaking eye contact first to set your fork down beside your plate, lifting the chalice to quickly take a nervous swig of whine, the alcohol deliciously burning the back of your throat once you swallow.

"Hm, I suppose so, yes. Tav seems.. Lovely."

Her last word stings a bit and you know full well she doesn't mean it. Gale nods happily, shoving a baby carrot into his cheek. You set your chalice down and reach a hand under the table, placing it on Gale's happily bouncing thigh. The bouncing stops abruptly, his facial expression not changing, but he's painfully aware of your hand, leaning in to your touch. You rub soothing circles over top of his trousers, humming quietly to yourself.

"So, hm, Tav. Gale has gone on and on and on about the two of you being engaged. You must be so excited. Will you be staying in Baldur's Gate after the wedding, since out tower is just.. Oh so cramped already. I'm sure you plan to spend so much gold on this wedding, hm? Gale is nothing short of extravagant. You should hold the ceremony in Mystra's temple."

Gale shoots Tara a perplexed look, chuckling to himself after he swallows his thoroughly chewed bite of food. Tara blinks innocently, flashing a single fang at you and she places a paw on the table, claws extended. You grit your teeth at the mention of Mystra, blinking down at your lap.

"Tara, my dear. Tav will be living with us. She will be my wife, after all. There's plenty of room in my bed, just for her. And we will speak about wedding plans when Tav is ready. Lots of preparations are to be made."

He reaches down to the hand resting on his thigh, giving it a loving squeeze. You grin and tilt your head sideways, resting it against his bicep for a moment before pulling your hand away to resume eating. You take small bites of food, chewing each one with ease before swallowing, little happy groans following at the taste. You chase the final bite of food with more wine. Tara straightens up, wings fluttering against her back at the new position and her tail swishes a few times before settling beside her on the stool.

"And.. Children? I assume you'll be having children? How many, do you think? It's obvious you can't keep your hands off of each other anyways, it's only a matter of time. Gods, I do wonder what they'll be like. Hopefully they all look like Gale, him having the superior genes and all."

You cough, covering your mouth carefully with your hand. Gale's eyes widen and he raises his hands quickly.

"Now now, let's not be hasty. Children will come in due time, yes. Much.. Much further down the road. Entirely too much to do and experience now."

Tara smirks at you, clearly sensing how uncomfortable you are. You squirm in your seat and reach for the chalice to finish off your wine, a warm buzz traveling up your spine and into the back of your neck, your chest turning a light crimson. The tressym hops down from her stool, a small yawn followed by a "mew" leaving her mouth. She rubs her side against your leg, covering you in her scent and some of her fur. She takes a seat on the floor beside Gale and purrs quietly, waiting for him to reach down and pet her head. He obliges, scratching behind her small ears. With a flick of her tail, Tara turns and leaves the room. You sigh in relief, placing your elbows on the table and your face in your hands. Gale lifts his chalice and takes a sip, savoring the sweet taste of the wine before smiling at you, absolutely clueless of what just unfolding directly in front of him at dinner.

"She seems to be really fond of you!"

#gale dekarios #gale fluff #gale fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #tara the tressym

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