Chapter Text
“Everyone ready?” Tav called from the door, squirming to make his adamantium armor sit comfortably over his tail. Dame Aylin stood next to him, practically vibrating with rage and the need to exact vengeance on her would-be procurer.
“On your word,” Gale said, joining him after making sure that his circlet was firmly in place and hair tied back. It would do no good to be blinded in the middle of a firefight.
“Time to punt a wizard out his own Tower,” Karlach said with a feral grin, slapping Gale on the shoulder hard enough to send him reeling into Astarion.
“If you’re going to do that, could I stay back here then?” the spawn asked, only half seriously as he shoved Gale back onto his feet, hand trailing along his waist in a cheeky caress until Gale slapped his hand. “Oh, I’ve been wounded! Clearly, I’m no good to you now.”
“Weren’t you the one who practically begged to be on this team?” Tav said with a raised eyebrow. Gale ducked his head to hide his smirk as Astarion sputtered, squeaking instead as a pointy elbow got him in the ribs.
“I recall doing nothing of the sort,” he sniffed. “Now, shall we go? We have some manner of chaos to unleash today I believe.”
“Behave,” Tav said, though his eyes betrayed his humour as they headed out. It was a short walk to Sorcerous Sundries (or flight for Aylin) and the projection of Lorroakan did little to stop them as they marched their way to their portals. Right as they entered, Gale felt a tug on the tails of the elven chain he was wearing and turned to meet Astarion’s eyes with a raised eyebrow.
“Be careful in there,” Astarion murmured. “You’re a far superior mage, no doubt, but his type don’t get power by being honourable and fair.”
Gale nodded, “You as well. Don’t be tricked into thinking he’s unprotected. Any mage that appears undefended has more failsaves than are visible to the untrained eye.”
“Well, good thing we’ve got a well-trained mage to aid us then,” Astarion said with a wink and then pushed him into the portal, following quickly after.
Dame Aylin had already flown in and was engaging with Lorroakan as they entered and Astarion immediately spotted a high area from where he could shoot unseen. He nudged Gale’s arm and received an almost imperceptible nod before sneaking up the nearby ladder and into the shadows where he had a view of almost the entire area. Dame Aylin’s voice cracked with her fury, but Lorroakan remained, foolishly, unmoved. Worse, he seemed to be trying to negotiate with her.
Darling, I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about you, Astarion sent over the tadpoles, you’re as humble as that vicar in the tabernacle in comparison to this fool. What was his name? Pioustoes?
Gale didn’t respond, but Astarion felt a wave of amusement emit from his passenger.
“You are a whelp without honour, without pride with nothing but a tower full of trinkets! Give me one good reason, magus, why I should not strike you down where you stand.”
“Dame Aylin, I have discovered a device that would allow your immortality to be shared,” Lorroakan said in a simpering tone. “It would cause you no harm, no pain of any kind. Your mother, Selune, has blessed our realm with so many gifts! Honour her by sharing yours!”
He’s actually mad, Astarion barely bit back a snort as Gale’s incredulous tone whispered in his head. Can he truly not see that she is about to grind him into bonedust?
Inability to read social situations is apparently not a trait to be attributed solely to you it seems.
I have never been this bad!
Mmhm. By the way, how has my ‘musk’ been lately? I’ve been trying a new combination of scents and I’d love some feedback.
The lack of response made Astarion grin.
The conversation before him deteriorated quickly and soon, Lorroakan was ordering Rolan to be at the ready by the runes.
“No!” Rolan snapped. “I would never have assisted you if I knew you planned such such horrors!”
“Watch your tongue, you child!” Lorroakan hissed, looking apoplectic. “I could make it such that no wizard in the realm will touch you.”
“If they’re all like you, I think that sounds like an excellent bargain,” Rolan said with a sneer.
“A toothless threat,” Gale spoke up and Astarion glanced in his direction. “Especially since he’d likely have far better success finding a suitable mentor once he breaks free of any association with your cursed name.”
“How dare you,” Lorroakan hissed, hand raising and the Myrmidons started to come to life around him. “You, who fell from grace! Who was discarded by our goddess! Who stands before me, fallen and powerless!”
“Fallen, maybe,” Gale said, drawing his staff from his back. “But powerless? Let me recite your demise.”
With that, all hell broke loose.
Tav, Karlach and Aylin immediately went to engage with the Myrmidons as Gale misty-stepped in front of Rolan and sent a magic missile towards the animated armour. Rolan ducked to his side to release a Thunderwave that sent both armour and Lorroakan’s unfortunate knife-wielding assistant plummeting over the edge to meet their end below.
Astarion immediately took a shot for Lorroakan, not surprised as it bounced off a magical shield, but cursed as the mage’s eyes landed on him. He prepared to dodge, but what he wasn’t prepared for was for Lorroakan to siphon energy from the Myrmidon’s surrounding him and then send it hurtling towards him.
“Astarion!” he heard Gale cry out right as an arcane ward blinked in front of him, taking some of the damage, but not all of it as it sent him hurtling back to slam against the bookshelves behind him, rattling them and sending some books to the floor as he fell in a heap at its base.
The sounds of battle became distant as his ears rang, body shuddering from cold, burning from fire, spasming from the lightning and nauseous from the poison. It was like it couldn’t decide what it should be feeling first. The image of the room faded in and out of his vision, brightening and darkening as sparks flew and radiant magic gleamed off a silver blade. Then everything was blocked by a wall of purple and brown and he let out a whimper as his body was moved, glass pressing against his lips and pouring something down his throat. But with each swallow, his vision grew clearer and the sounds faded back in, he blinked and finally recognized the head of brown curls looking down at him with horror.
“I’ve always wanted to see you on top of me,” Astarion slurred.
“Astarion, are you alright?” Gale asked, urgently, eyes wide, face a bit red, likely from the fire myrmidon. The rogue took a moment to get his bearings, feeling his wounds knit from the potion, pushing himself into a sitting position with shaking arms that grew stronger with each breath. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize- he’s established an elemental siphon link with them, we can’t attack him without retaliation until the Myrmidons are taken care of!”
“That would’ve been good to know a few moments ago, darling,” Astarion rasped, blinking away spots. “So Myrmidons first, then arrogant shithead?”
“Yes,” Gale said sheepishly, “I need to get back into the battle-”
“Go, go,” Astarion waved him off, staggering back onto his knees, fumbling for his bow, “Avenge my honour, will you? Being hurled against a bookshelf like a particularly offensive book is just embarrassing.”
“For your honor?” Gale grinned, just feral enough to make Astarion want to squirm a bit. “A rough tempest I will raise.”
With that, Gale leapt off the railing, his own magic carrying him to the other side like a leaf in, well, a gale. The moment he landed, he wheeled around, bright orange flame already wreathing his hand as with a loud cry of “ARDE!”, he sent a fireball down right in the middle of the battlefield. Astarion had a moment to appreciate how he curved the flames around their allies, including Rolan and Aylin, to only burn the Myrmidons, a impressive act of spellcasting that Lorroakan could only hope to replicate and, judging by the abject fury and fear on his face as his allies burned while his enemies stayed unharmed, he knew it too.
“You’re looking scared, mage,” Astarion taunted, sending an arrow of lightning towards the Water Myrmidon and turning it into a puddle of electrified water that made Lorroakan yelped as he accidentally stepped in it. “Finally seeing a true master of the Weave in action?”
“D-don’t be foolish!” Lorroakan stammered, sending a ray of sickness towards where he heard Astarion’s voice. It hit nothing. “I- this is child’s play!”
“Is it? I’ve scarcely seen you cast more than cantrips, isn’t that right, darling?”
“And I cast better fireballs when I was eight,” Gale added, tossing a chromatic orb at the fire myrmidon.
“Could it be that Master Lorroakan is a fraud?” Astarion said with mock concern.
“Silence!” Lorroakan shrieked, bringing his hands together in what Astarion recognized as a Cone of Cold-
Only for it to fizzle out before the magic could even start to coalesce.
“Not even Counterspell?” Gale clicked his tongue, “A battle of wits, and you came unprepared.”
“Do not dare- I am the Master of Ramazith’s Tower!” Lorroakan’s face was red with rage, though the fear in his eyes was undeniable as the Earth Myrmidon fell to Aylin’s blade. “I am one of the greatest wizards who has ever lived!” The Fire Myrmidon fell to Tav and Karlach’s mighty swings. “I- I am the Wizard of Baldur’s Gate!” The final Myrmidon disappeared in a rush of air as an arrow protruded from it’s helmet. “I am-”
“You are a charlatan who stumbled upon something he did not deserve,” Gale said, stepping off the edge of the railing and letting the weave carry him down to land on his feet. “You are a fool and an untalented hack who, despite having access to some of the greatest spells ever transcribed, lacked the knowledge and the motivation to utilize them. You are a miserable, envious fraud who thought the only way he could raise himself in the world was to pull those around him down. You are the antithesis of everything a good wizard should be.”
Astarion melted out of the shadows, watching the other mage cower. The spark of another fireball appeared in his palm, but Gale counterspelled it with the air of someone batting a fly out of their face. He let his chin rest on the wizard’s shoulder, watching with glee as Lorroakan finally seemed to realize he was out of his league, feeling the crackle of static dancing across his skin from Gale’s open channel with the Weave.
“You know what I think, darling?” Astarion murmured in his ear in a stage whisper. “I think you should show him what a good wizard is capable of.”
“Allow me to demonstrate one of your own locked away spells,” Gale raised his hands and red energy gathered at his fingertips. “PARIO!”
Darts of red energy, each headed by a red, grinning skull, darted from Gale’s fingertips and pummelled into Lorroakan, ripping through his shields and mage armour with little resistance, sending him spinning through the air and crashing into his throne of books, rolling down the stairs to land at the foot of them.
“Oh, that is a nice little spell,” Astarion whistled lowly. “Was that the one we found that in that book? The Red Knight one?”
“Yes,” Gale said, breathing heavily as he let his grip on the weave go. The air of static around him receded with it. “Gods, that was… that spell had more of a kick than I expected. I haven’t pulled that much power from the Weave since before the orb.”
“Well, I think it’s safe to say you showed him who the true master of the weave is,” Astarion grinned, watching Lorroakan gasp breathlessly on the ground. “I have to say, darling, shows of near-godly power look very good on you.”
“Astarion…” Gale elbowed him lightly in the abdomen, but the spawn didn’t retreat, not this time, bringing his hands up to grip Gale’s shoulder instead and turn his face into his neck, inhaling his scent: lavender and sandalwood, but with the added battle scents of rosewater, ash and ozone. “Astarion,” Gale said, more insistent, “The others-”
No one was watching them right now. Their gazes were fixed on Dame Aylin, who was advancing on the crumpled mage.
“You who would see me caged,” she hissed, advancing upon Lorroakan’s gasping form, “you who would purchase my submission with profane gold! Let every wicked magus, every vile murderer, each slaver and misery-merchant see- Dame Aylin is watching!” She gripped Lorroakan’s robes and hoisted him over her head like a trophy, face resplendent in its fury. Astarion watched her with perverse delight and a hint of terror churning in his stomach. Gale seemed to pick up on the inevitable and Astarion saw him open his mouth to protest in horror. “She is indomitable! And when her face lights the shadows of your wrongdoing, you are broken by its beauty!”
Just before she brought Lorroakan down onto her knee, Astarion wheeled Gale around and drew him in, bringing their lips together and wrapping his arms around him to lean him back in a dip, blocking Gale’s view of the carnage but not his own as the sound of Lorroakan’s back snapping echoed through the room, followed by the mage’s death gurgles before he fell silent. Astarion closed his eyes in satisfaction and turned the small bit of his attention that was not already on the wizard in his arms back to him, coaxing him into parting his lips and letting him deepen the kiss. The shock seemed to wear off quickly as Gale’s grip on him turned from clutching to holding and the mage let out a small sound before returning the kiss with equal gusto, making Astarion’s knees go weak for a moment. Gale seemed to invest as much effort into kissing as he did just about anything else he put his mind to and Astarion was determined to give as good as he got-
A loud clearing of the throat finally got to Gale, if not to him and the wizard pushed at his shoulders, Astarion retreating reluctantly to glare at the interruption. Tav looked mildly apologetic, vaguely haunted, and positively jubilant as he grinned sheepishly at them both.
“Sorry to interrupt,” to his credit he sounded genuine so Astarion would not put a rat in his bed. Not a big one anyway. “But, uh, maybe you two want to head back to the Elfsong? I’m pretty sure we’re done here.”
Astarion opened his mouth to agree, but Gale cleared his throat next, shuffling back upright, despite Astarion’s hands refusing to move from his body. “Apologies,” he said breathlessly, trying to look dignified with kiss swollen lips and a flush that was only partially from the battle, “um, we should check the tower for any more items of use before we go: I’m sure Ramazith would’ve stored some treasures here, even if Lorroakan didn’t add to them.” He peered over Tav’s shoulder to Rolan, “That is, if the new master of Ramazith’s Tower wouldn’t mind?”
“Hm, I like the sound of that,” Rolan said with a grin. “Please! Go ahead and help yourselves. Most of the profit comes from the regular stock anyway.”
“Well, it’s not fun if you have permission,” Astarion grumbled.
“Would you like me to glare disapprovingly so that you still feel like a scoundrel?” Gale said, tone just mocking enough to make Astarion’s undead heart flutter.
“You two go ahead, we’ll help Rolan clean up here,” Karlach said, nudging Lorroakan’s mangled corpse with her toe. “I’m sure you two will be thorough.” Her grin spoke volumes.
“Excellent! Come darling, let’s see what other treasures that poor excuse for a wizard is hiding for us to liberate!” A tug of the wrist, pausing only long enough for Gale to Feather Fall them and they were both descending to the lower part of the Tower, landing next to a pedestal and a few chests.
“Now, despite its hopeless former owner, it is still a wizard tower so expect- mfh!” Gale’s back met one of the bookshelves with a thud hard enough to knock a loose copy to the ground as the rogue pinned him against them, hands on his hips drawing him closer even as he pressed him back against the shelves with the force of the kiss. Gale, to his credit, only froze for a scant second before melting into the kiss with a soft, eager sound, fingers clutching Astarion’s shoulders tightly enough for the tips of his filigreed gauntlets to dig into his skin, leaving pink marks that would fade in moments, much to Astarion’s dismay. His fang grazed Gale’s lower lip, adding a hint of iron tang to their kiss that just made Astarion kiss him deeper, uncaring of the acrid aftertaste that drop of blood added to it.
Despite the mutual press of armour in uncomfortable spots (perhaps he would encourage Gale to shift back to robes: the Wavemother would look lovely on him), they only broke apart when air became a serious issue for the human. Even then, Astarion was reluctant to move back further than he had to, shifting his lips to follow the line of the orb along his cheek, down his neck until the armour would allow him to descend no further. He made a frustrated noise as his hands were similarly blocked from descending into the wizard’s trousers.
“You are no longer allowed to wear this- this chastity belt of an armour piece,” Astarion grumbled, threading his fingers into Gale’s hair and undoing his half bun to dig his fingers into the thick of it. “How in the world am I supposed to tolerate not getting my hands on you whenever I want?”
“You’ve been doing quite a good job of it so far,” Gale said, grinning at him with mussed hair, kiss swollen lips and the flush of battle still in his cheeks. Astarion’s armour got considerably more uncomfortable. “I should have known verbally eviscerating some poor wretch would stoke your flames, though I confess, I did not expect myself to be the target of the affections that would arise from it.”
“Are you joking?” Astarion pulled back just enough to look at him incredulously. “I’ve been trying to get into your pants since the Grove, wizard! I thought you weren’t interested!”
Gale looked stunned. “Wha- you must be having me on! You told me at the party that you weren’t interested in me because you had standards!”
“Because I thought you were about to reject me after staring at your bloody goddess all night!”
“I was summoning up the courage to show you how to channel the Weave that night! I thought it would set the mood to-”
“Well, what about at Moonrise? I told you I wanted to explore more with you-”
“I thought you meant platonically! You spoke about how you weren’t even sure you liked s- that form of intimacy-”
“-I didn’t realize you were going to hold that against me for the rest of our lives, wizard!”
“-I wasn’t, I just…” Gale trailed off and the look of tender hope in his eyes made Astarion want to kiss him again, but he held back. Just temporarily. “Really?”
“Really what?”
“ ‘The rest of our lives’… do you really see the possibility of a… long-term future with us?” with me? unspoken but present.
“I-” the instinct was to bat the sentiment away with a quip, a ‘let’s see how it goes’ or a more caustic ‘only if you don’t fuck it up with your grand gestures’, but the words stuck in his throat, refusing to be divulged. What came out much easier, was the truth/
“I think I do,” Astarion said, tone uncharacteristically soft, but genuine. Wondering and hopeful. “If you do-”
“Yes!” Gale said, eager and unashamed, though maybe just a little embarrassed. “I mean, if you would wish to ‘explore’ with me, I would… I can make myself available.”
“Good,” Astarion said, voice prim, but eyes bright. “Now then… make yourself available for more of this, will you?” With that, he pulled Gale in for another kiss, who met him halfway. They only finally broke apart when Karlach yelled at them for taking too long.
“You’d think the women who rode Tav until he cried the first night she got her engine fixed would be more understanding of my plight,” Astarion grumbled as they descended further down into the vault and Gale retrieved a fancy new staff and the ugliest robe he had ever seen.
“I’d thank you to not put that image in my head, thank you very much.”
“I could always replace it with something better.”
“I’m not sure my knees would be able to handle that.”
“That’s fine: with what I’ve seen of your ass beneath those awful robes, I’d want to be behind you anyway.”
Gale didn’t dignify that with a response, but the bright red of his ears was satisfying enough for Astarion to cut everyone a very generous break and stay relatively silent as they trekked back to the Elfsong Tavern. Dame Aylin promptly went off to have a sulk with her girlfriend (honestly, did no one know how to enjoy sweet revenge anymore?) while Tav and Karlach went off to give the others an update. Before Gale could join them, Astarion snagged his wrist and tugged him towards their corner, grinning as Lae’zel gave them a suspicious look as they passed her.
The moment they were out of sight, Astarion felt the weight of the wizard push him against the side of the bed as warm lips covered his own with eagerness that he returned with equal passion. He still smelled of lavender and rosewater, the air of static clinging to him from the power he channelled mere moments ago, an intoxicating combination that suited him so well. He fumbled around Gale’s torso, trying to find some latch or button to pull that accursed armour off him, but found nothing but chainmail covered skin. He pulled back finally, incensed, but unable to remain so as Gale looked at him adoringly, almost tempting him into just kissing him again.
“This is why wizards shouldn’t be given armour,” Astarion said, trying to find some visual hint as to how to get the damn thing off him. “Robes or nothing for you from now on.”
“Your wish is my command,” Gale said, nothing but achingly sincere. “If it helps, I usually use magic to get it on and off. It’s not a slight against your undoubtedly magnificent skill.”
“Well, the possibility of a magical striptease is certainly soothing my ego,” Astarion grinned, “as is the very real probability of getting to see you bare underneath.”
“Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you again,” and Gale looked truly despondent about that, “but I’m afraid that while we’re in… shared quarters, we may have to keep our, ah, festivities for civilized company. For now.”
Astarion groaned, but even he saw the sense in Gale’s reasoning. Especially with Karlach occupying the bed next to them, he liked her and didn’t see any reason to scandalize her by debauching their wizard on the other side of their shared wall. Had it been Halsin though…
“Plus, I think we’re finally on the same page of this adventure we’ve been writing together,” Gale said, taking Astarion’s hand in both of his, smiling widely. “I would like to take some time to do and say things properly this time.”
Astarion opened his mouth to protest, but the words rang in his head. When was the last time someone had wanted to take their time with him? To woo him? When was the last time he’d had the chance to do the same? To even want to? This was new territory for him and possibly Gale as well: to enjoy the courtship, even if it was in the midst of an invasion, but what could one expect for a former Chosen and a soon-to-be liberated vampire spawn?
“I don’t know what to do with any of this,” Astarion said instead, bringing their clasped hands up to press a kiss to Gale’s knuckles, “but this is nice.”
Despite their pledges to take things slow, they allowed themselves one indulgence. The result of it was both of them squishing together on a bed clearly meant for one person, Gale’s elbow digging into Astarion’s stomach and his cold feet tucked under Gale’s calves. Astarion’s back was pushed against the wall and if Gale attempted to change position at any time, he would likely fall off the bed. It was perfect.
“Do you remember what you said to me?” Gale asked, voice slightly slurring with tiredness. “Last night?”
“I said a lot of things,” Astarion said, trailing his fingers along Gale’s shoulder, “You’ll have to be more specific, darling.”
“About not allowing people to badmouth me,” Gale clarified, shifting to let his head rest more comfortably on Astarion’s arm. “Remember?”
“A little bit,” he leaned down to press a soft kiss to Gale’s forehead, the wizard closing his eyes and humming in delight. “What about it?”
“Just wondering if you realized you were wrong.”
“Excuse me?” Astarion pulled back to look at him, mildly annoyed. “What do you mean by that?”
“You said that if I don’t stop people from badmouthing me, then no one else would,” Gale said, blinking up at him guilelessly. “You were wrong.”
“Was I? And what makes you say that?”
Gale grinned and shuffled a bit closer, pressing his lips to the bite scar on Astarion’s neck. “You didn’t even realize you were doing it?”
“Doing what?” Astarion said with rising irritation, though it was tempered with Gale placating him with little kisses. “If you’re going to be cryptic, I’m kicking you back to your bed.”
“No need to threaten me,” Gale chuckled against pale skin. “I just… when we met that cad yesterday, Tav and Karlach both had to restrain you from attacking him while he was insulting me.”
“Yes well, I’m the only one who gets to poke holes in your ego. So?”
“So you were going to defend me,” Gale said with a sweet smile. “Even when you thought I wasn’t defending myself.”
“I’m not following,” Astarion grumbled.
“When I didn’t stop him from badmouthing me, you were going to stop him for me,” Gale murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. “That goes against your teachings from last night, does it not?”
“Wh- that is not what I meant!” Astarion protested feebly. Another kiss wore down his defences even further. “Well, maybe a little bit… after all, a squishy thing like you needs some form of… physical defence. You’ve clearly proven yourself more than capable of handling yourself any other way. I’m surprised Lorroakan wasn’t turned into a paste from the force of your spell, maybe he was sturdier than he looked.”
“Maybe,” Gale said, still smiling that smug, sweet smile and Astarion wanted to wipe it off his smug, sweet face. So he did. With his lips.
“If someone ever badmouths you, I’ll throw a Fireball at them,” Gale murmured into the kiss, fingers wrapping themselves in Astarion’s curls, even as Astarion drew him closer.
“I’ll hold you to that, darling. But make it a Sunbeam.”
“Scribed and ready at your word, my love.”