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Gale Dekarios, Archwizard of Waterdeep, has had enough adventure for now.
In his boyfriend’s own words, “If I don’t get to become Vampire Ascendant in a ritual most unholy and profane, then you don’t get to become some kind of horrible anti-magic deity in defiance of your ex. Let’s just… set aside our megalomaniacal power trips and, possibly, enjoy some peace and quiet for once?”
Then Astarion gave a theatrical shrug, smiling with his eyebrows high in his curls.
That was about a month ago. Now, after a battle most fierce, the two of them had returned to Gale’s tower. And it was, actually, a tower. Astarion had only seen the bottom floor in the illusory fling they had. It stood proudly among a row of much smaller houses, as tall as a lighthouse, complete with an actual glowing…. something or other at the top. Much to Gale’s amusement, he had to invite Astarion in.
“This place is as much your home now, as it is mine,” he said. “You’re welcome any time!”
Gale unlocked the door, and took a deep breath as he entered his old tower. It was just as he remembered, maybe with a few more cobwebs and a little more dust. Still cluttered with books and fineries, the magical piano already tinkling out a tune as the crystal lamps slowly filled the space with orange light.
Astarion didn't even bother to look around. He left his things by the door, kicked off his boots, and flumped face first onto a chaise lounge that only smelled faintly of dust and cat fur. Gale had no way of knowing, but Astarion decided then and there, he would sleep for a week.
Gale smiled. They had stayed in Baldur’s Gate just long enough for him to regain enough power to cast teleport. But it had been a rather exhausting adventure before that.
“Mr. Dekarios! What in the world have you dragged back this time?”
Gale smiled and threw his arms wide open. “Tara!”
The Tressym padded down the stairs. She wound between Gale’s legs, rubbing against them as he leaned down to scratch a line between her wings.
“Missed you too, old girl,” Gale said. “I hope Halaster treated you well?”
“Fine, fine, plenty of lovely rats and spiders to eat under that mountain of his…”
Tara trotted over to the collapsed vampire and sniffed his hand. Astarion’s fingers twitched, and he grunted into the cushions.
“Why Mr. Dekarios, I’m no kitten,” Tara said. “You didn’t need to kill dinner for me.”
“Ha ha,” Gale said flatly. “This is Astarion, my…” He hesitated. Whenever he had asked Astarion what they were, he would sing about how special and precious they were… but always stopped before saying something committed. Boyfriend, Gale wanted to say. Husband, one day. But for now, Gale just said, “Well, he’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Fine, fine,” Tara said, washing her face. “But you will be sure he doesn't rot, will you?”
“Your cat has quite a sharp tongue, dear…” Astarion mumbled into the pillow.
Tara hissed, back arching. Fire flickered in her mouth. Gale barked and ran to her side, vigorously petting her head.
“Tara! No fireballs in the house!” Gale snapped. “Astarion, Tara is much more than a cat. She’s a Tressym! Now get along you two!”
Astarion’s face rolled in the cushion to eye the cat – Tressym. “Lovely wings,” he managed to mumble before he reburied into the couch.
“Well at least it has good taste,” Tara said, ruffling her feathers.
Gale sighed. It could have gone worse. He sat on the carpet, and Tara crawled in his lap. He scratched her idly behind the ears, and just… existed, for a moment. Home. Not fighting, nor preparing to fight. No bomb in his chest. And a new, much more humble lover on his couch. He chuckled. A vampire, humble. Compared to a goddess, certainly.
He sighed and buried his face into Tara’s fur. She didn’t like it, her wings flaring as she left his lap and stalked off. But the pure fluff of a not-quite-cat was very invigorating.
He looked around the bottom floor of his tower, idly cleaning the space with a snap of his fingers. Predigiation : very useful for housekeeping. Barely even a spell at all, he managed it even before he summoned Tara. He did this mindlessly, and he wondered, what were his next steps? Unpack? Prepare the guest room? Prepare… his room? He sighed. He and Astarion had barely shared a bed in the city. The Elfsong’s beds were… not exactly accommodating for couples.
Astarion was exhausted, as was he. He didn’t want to unpack right now.
“Right.”
Gale sprung to his feet and dusted off his hands.
He would make dinner.
There was no food in the house, of course. He wasn’t so scatterbrained as to leave perishables behind on a long trip. But that was almost more fun. That meant he could go into Waterdeep, find something nice to make. They had teleported after the sun had set, of course. No need to risk an accident with Astarion’s ‘condition’ reasserting itself. But plenty of taverns were open, so he could purchase some ingredients. Some cod, he thought. He could roast a mean cod. Serve it on a bed roast pumpkin. He had salt, spices, and wine at his place. And what the heck, since this was special occasion. He managed to wheedle a can of beluga caviar and a little sealed bowl of crème fraîche out of one of the nicer places. You could have it before the meal, with the meal, after the meal… it was literally decadence on a cracker!
When he got back, he had a good laugh. Astarion hadn’t moved, and Tara had settled firmly on his back, resting sphynx style and quite content.
“Gaaaale,” Astarion groaned. “Get your damn Tressym off me…”
Astarion halfheartedly swiped at Tara, but the not-quite-cat just batted his paw.
“Ow…” Astarion mumbled.
“Oh please,” Tara said. “I didn’t even use my claws. Mr. Dekarios this new pet you’ve brought is rather pathetic, isn't it?”
Gale laughed. “Careful now! Astarion’s rather good with his own claws, if I may say so myself.”
Astarion waved his arm about, flicking his wrists in a dramatically lazy flourish.
“I’ve slaughtered thousands,” Astarion said flatly. “Yet I am laid low by a mere c – tressym.”
Gale shoo’d Tara off his vampire not-quite-boyfriend. But as soon as he ducked through the cloth door to the kitchen, he could already hear Astarion whine as Tara settled back on top of him.
“It means she likes you!” Gale called.
“She’s heaaavyyyyy,” Astarion whined.
Tara ruffled her feathers. “Be honored I use you as my perch, despite the unholy citrusy scent of your shirt.”
“It’s the bergamot you have a problem with?” Astarion groaned.
Gale smiled. He was glad they got along… as well as they could have.
For a wizard, Gale was rather fond of cooking. Or, perhaps that wasn’t so strange? Elminster did like his cheese and wine. But for Gale… there was a component of creation that was fun, yes. But it was also about appreciating the rich texture of life . The variety of flavors to be found rivaled the weave itself in complexity and raw discovery.
He tossed logs into the oven and lit them with a surge of fire from his fingertips. Then, while the oven heated, he prepared the appetizer. He pulled out a china platter, prestidigitation’ing it clean. He laid out thin slices of a hard, dry bread, then placed a dollop of the caviar and cheese beside them. Not the fanciest way to serve, but he didn’t want to keep his… Keep Astarion waiting. He pulled out two wine glasses, and brought up some Sauvignon Blanc from the wine cellar. He debated conjuring an Unseen Servant to deliver them, but no, he’d rather deliver it himself.
He carried the tray, wine, and glasses out, and what the heck, made his Mage Hand pull the low table closer to the chaise lounge.
Astarion glanced up at the sound of an uncorking bottle. Gale grinned, and poured two glasses.
“To the saviors of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale said, lifting his glass.
Astarion barely even moved. He just turned his head to the side to pick up the glass of wine. Tara shifted her weight to stay atop his back. His face was still half buried in the cushions when he lifted the glass to hip lips.
“To us,” Astarion said, taking a drink. “Mm!” he exclaimed. “That’s good wine.”
“Help yourself to the whole bottle,” Gale said with a smile. “I’m making dinner. You aren’t allergic to fish, are you?”
“Ha ha,” Astarion laughed sardonically into his cup.
Gale took that to mean no, and with a small wave, returned to a toasty and warm kitchen.
He cheated, but only a little. Why prep things one at a time when you can have your unseen servant chop vegetables and fetch spices? He still tossed the chopped pumpkin with salt, sugar and spices with his own hands, laying them in a baking dish, and placing the four pieces of freshly salted cod atop them. He slid the whole thing into the oven, shut the door, and eyed the time. Ready in half a bell, then he’d dollop more of the caviar atop the cod and serve. Easy, but delicious. He washed his hands in the tap (a lovely device that conjured fresh water, the waste washing out a drain into the bay.) And headed back to the main room.
He noticed first that Astarion had moved his glass, and the bottle of white wine, to the floor. He had already emptied half the bottle, still sipping awkwardly from the glass with Tara on top of him. Gale chuckled.
Then he noticed the untouched tray of appetizers. Not cracker, cheese, or caviar had moved an inch.
Gale felt a bit put out, but first, some appetizer for himself! He pulled his favorite armchair over and served himself. As the salty eggs and creamy cheese spread around his mouth, he couldn't help but exclaim. “Mm! Finally. Not that I disliked the road food, but to have the finer things again… Are you not hungry, Astarion?”
“Hm?” Astarion said, pouring himself another glass. “Oh. No. Well. Yes I am. But I’m fine . I’ll take care of that tomorrow, I think.”
Gale frowned, cocking his head. “What do you… ah. Right. Your old friend, the blood hunger–” Astarion snorted in his wine at that, but Gale kept going. “What I meant was, did you want to try the caviar?”
Astarion gave Gale a confused look. “I don’t… eat?”
Gale stared at his vampire ‘boyfriend.’ “What do you mean, you don’t eat??? You’re drinking wine right now!”
Astarion almost spat up into his cup. “Completely different!”
“I’m making dinner for us both right now,” Gale shot. “Why didn't you tell me this sooner?”
“I thought you knew! We made a joke about allergies not even an hour ago!”
“That was a sincere question!”
“Oh. Really? Huh. Well it did feel rather tasteless. For you. So I guess that’s why…” he took another swig of his wine.
“Okay, Astarion, sit up. We need to talk about this. I could have sworn you ate with everyone, quite literally every night!”
Astarion groaned and buried his face in the cushions. Muffled, he said, “ Must we? What’s the big deal?”
“Well…” Gale hesitated. He stared down at the platter. “I… wanted to do something nice, for our first night at my tower… at our tower. Together. And I feel now like I’ve been rather tactless. So I’d like to, you know… sort this out?”
Astarion groaned and rolled over. Facing away, to the back of the chaise lounge. Tara finally dropped to the ground… then jumped onto the table, sniffing the caviar and cheese.
Gale sighed and picked her up. “Not now Tara. You can have some cod when it's done.”
Tara purred, “Is that the lovely smell coming from the kitchen?” and stalked off, tail swishing in the air.
Gale cocked his head at Astarion, who still pointedly faced away.
“Are you alright Astarion?” Gale asked.
“Hm. Oh,” Astarion glanced over his shoulder. “I forgive you. Will that be all?”
“Do you… not want to talk about this?” Gale asked.
“ No ,” Astarion insisted, eyebrows flying into his hair. “Was that not clear?”
Gales sighed and folded his hands as his not-quite-vampire boyfriend turned back away.
“Well, if you’re tired, I can set up a bed for you upstairs,” Gale said. “And we can drop this tonight. But I do want to talk about it eventually.”
Astarion scoffed. “ Why? It’s no big deal!”
Gale’s face turned down his lap, where he clasped and unclasped his fingers, digesting the words.
“I suppose when we were just companions, I could just leave it at that,” Gale admitted. “Just let you have your privacy, and accept our differences.
“But we’re… well…” Gale exhaled out his nose. He stared at his lap, unable to even look at Astarion. “I would like to call us a couple. You, my boyfriend. Perhaps husband, one day. And I may not have been the best at relationships over the years, but I like to think I’ve lived long enough to know, as partners , we should talk through issues, no matter how small, to reach a mutual understanding.
“Because, I care about you,” Gale continued, words spilling out. “I love you. And, one way I show my love, is, you know, physical…”
Astarion snorted a laugh. And Gale couldn't help but smile. He glanced up, and saw Astarion was giving his full attention. In his own way. His back was to Gale, but he was peeking over his shoulder.
“You know me, Astarion. I like physical gifts. Grand gestures. Cooking for you was one show of that… of the love I feel for you. And if I can’t show you love that way, I’d like to know what I can do.
Gale took a deep breath, and met Astarion’s peering eye. “So if not tonight… when can we talk about this… food…. Hangup?”
Astarion looked away. Gale was patient. He waited. He didn't need to wait long. Astarion groaned and flopped on his back, fully lounging on the chaise lounge. Gale’s heart skipped a bit as he could see a hint of Astarion’s chest, his sculpted abs. He loved Astarion for more than his body… but by the gods, he loved that body.
“Fine. It’s very simple, Gale.” Astarion gave the wizard a hard look. “It has clearly slipped your mind, but I am, in fact, undead .”
Gale was nonplussed. His immediate mental image was : zombies and ghouls ate flesh. But he decided not to bring that comparison up.
“Go on,” Gale said with a nod.
“Okay, sooo…” Astarion scowled. “This is very gross, and most people don't want to hear gross things before they eat food. So do you really want to know?”
Gale chuckled. “Oh please. What could be more disgusting than everything we’ve seen? Remember when Tav wouldn't stop licking that damn spider?”
Astarion grinned. “Point. Anyway.” He placed one hand behind his head, and one atop his stomach. He scowled at the ceiling, and rolled his tongue like there was a bad taste on it. Again, Gale gave him space.
“They don’t,” Astarion said. “Work.”
“The ‘they’ in question referring to…?”
“The… entire digestive tract, really.” Astarion waved a hand down his body. “I can. Physically. Eat food. But it sits there . Like a lump.” He made a snapping sound with his tongue. “Until I vomit it back up again.”
“Thank you,” Gale said. “For telling me."
Astarion turned to face Gale. “I really had thought you noticed.”
Gale let out a long breath and raised his hands in a defensive shrug. “I suppose, since you’re always drinking wine with us, that… is something else entirely?”
Astarion let out a sardonic chuckle. “Liquid. Flows downward.”
“Ah,” Gale said. “I see. So.” Moving past the point, he lifted a hand and flicked his wrist. “If I summoned an illusion of food. One with the taste, smell, and texture, would that be… something nice for you?”
“Hm…” Astarion settled his hand back on his stomach and stared at the ceiling. He breathed out his nose, then mumbled, “I wonder… I will say, since I turned… I’ve not even seen the appeal of most foods. It's as if all of it has… a rotten smell. Like it’s turned or something.” He smirked. “That ship has sailed, of course, but I’m sure becoming the Ascendant would have returned to me those appetites as well.”
Gale’s face fell. “Gods… to think. All those nice meals everyone put together. And they never even smelled good. Was every night just torture, being awash in the smell of it all?”
Astarion shrugged. “Much like the stink of the Gray Harbor — you get used to it.” A small smile crept on his face, and he glanced over at Gale. “And the company wasn’t so bad, after all.”
Gale smiled back. “Thank you.” There was a moment of silence, then Gale couldn't help it. His horrible sense of curiosity made his blurt out, “So when you say ‘flows downward’—“
“And we’re done here!”
“Joking! I was joking!”
Astarion rolled up to his feet. He stepped around the low table, and kissed Gale on his forehead.
“It wasn’t funny,” Astarion whispered, grinning. “Now about that bed…”
“Of course…” With a whoof dadbod Gale heaved himself up to his own feet. “Guest room or… master? With me?”
“I’ll sleep wherever you sleep,” Astarion said. “As long as I don’t need an invitation, of course.”
“Of course not.” Gale took Astarion by the hand, and led him to the stairs. He was two steps up the creaking things, when he stopped and turned back.
“Boyfriend?” Gale asked.
Astarion sighed dramatically, but with a wide smile he said. “We can start there.”
And then Gale’s cod burned because damn, not even an angry tressym could keep these thirsty boys apart.