Chapter Text
"Mr. Dekarios, you will be late if you continue to delay -- you aren't even dressed!"
Tara's voice floated over his shoulder, barely breaking into his concentration on the piece of fabric before him. It was a beautiful midnight blue, with white fox fur as the lining. Thick and warm... and faintly glowing, as Gale's fingers moved along the woolen service, a soft incantation escaping his lips. It was nearly done, his beloved's birthday present -- after months of experimentation and hard work, he only had to put on the final touches before presenting it to his wife. In the nick of time, too; it was snowing something awful in Waterdeep, and while Gale had the benefit of utilizing simple teleportation to arrive at Blackstaff, he hardly wanted his wife to ruin whatever gorgeous ball gown she had selected to wear to this asinine party.
A warm weight landed on his shoulder as Gale finished the last line of the incantation, and the wizard exhaled a sigh of relief as he pressed his hands into the wool, feeling the flickering of the Weave throughout the fabric. Properly enchanted, and ready for wear. "I know, I know," Gale said before Tara could begin her chastising, waving a hand. The fabric -- a hooded cloak -- rose into the air before folding itself neatly. “I needed to finish it before we set off…Heavens help me if it doesn’t match her gown.”
“I doubt our good Lady would mind very much if it didn’t,” Tara purred, and Gale had to agree — Aeryn was nothing but gracious with him, and would be thrilled with any gift. “In fact, I am willing to bet Mrs. Dekarios would be thrilled with anything at all to accentuate her outfit for the evening, particularly if it was made by you.”
“Would she?” Gale asked, faintly amused as he picked up the folded cloak, turning to head out of his study. After all, Tara was right — he wasn’t even dressed, and Heavens knew that his beloved wife was already dressed and prepared to leave, waiting on him… as per usual. At the very least, his outfit was already selected for the evening — an ornate suit, in the colors of Blackstaff Academy, with a matching furred cloak to ward off the chill. “She has been feeling poorly as of late… I would be far more comfortable if she remained home, but she insisted she wanted to attend.” Aeryn’s illness (an upset stomach and an unsettling amount of fatigue) had been written off as a winter stomach bug, but the color had returned to her cheeks as of late. And so, after much fussing by Gale, it had been agreed she could attend the ball. “Far be it from me to convince her otherwise.”
“She has been looking forward to this event for some time,” Tara intoned, stretching her wings to flutter ahead of Gale, paws landing on the topmost stair as Gale approached their living quarters. “I think she would be most heartbroken if she had to remain behind while you braved the masses, Mr. Dekarios.”
“Oh, poor me, having to drink fine wine and eat excellent food,” Gale sighed, though a quirk of his lips into a faint smile betrayed his true feelings. Tara chuckled to herself before tilting her head toward the door of the master bedroom, and, with a flick of her tail, the tressym meandered back down the hall toward the library, clearly intent on having something of a nap. The wizard watched his friend go for a moment before shifting his attention to the door, nudging it open with his shoulder before peering in. “My love?”
He was greeted to quite the sight; his wife standing in front of the floor-length mirror in their bedroom, frowning to her reflection. The dress she had selected was suited for the weather; long sleeves, glittering with an intricate design that almost appeared to be the scales that adorned her body. Her silvery-white hair was pinned back, twisted into a braided up-do that highlighted the curve of her neck and her pointed ears. The dress was a deep blue, floor-length; modest and fitted to her form. Well — nearly; the corseted back was undone, and Aeryn had slender arms wrapped around her middle, brow furrowed in intense concentration.
She always took his breath away, but Gale was struck by how the color of the dress brought out the intensity of her pale eyes. It accentuated her slender figure perfectly, the bodice clinging to her breasts despite the modesty of the dress. Beautiful . Not for the first time, Gale wondered how the stars could have possibly aligned to have such an example of perfection and beauty by his side for the rest of his days. She had given everything for him, and required very little in return. One day, he would make it up to her.
Judging by the look on her face, though, Gale did not think it would be this day.
“I should stay home,” Aeryn said finally, sighing to herself as she allowed her arms to drop, looking slightly defeated. “I can hardly arrive at this soirée in a gown that does not fit; it would be an embarrassment, and we are already late.”
“You — darling .” It was a quiet admonishment as Gale closed the door behind him with a flick of his wrist, the cloak he had been working on set upon their dresser as he quickly closed the distance between them. “I’ll hear no such thing, we will fix it — and if not, surely we can find you something equally gorgeous to wear.”
“There is nothing else, Gale,” Aeryn huffed, frowning at Gale’s reflection in the mirror as he fussed with the dress. “I’ll not wear anything but a gown to this; the dress code is not exactly casual.”
“Here, it simply needs to be let out a little here…” Deft fingers quickly readjusted the corset back, utilizing the Weave to remove the corset ties entirely. With a murmur, the back of the dress tightened of its own accord, but not nearly as tight as the cords would have drawn the middle — held in place by a simple fastening spell. With a quick adjustment of the fabric, it looked as if it was simply designed that way, his fingers smoothing over the seams. “There, better?”
There was a silence as Gale watched his wife smooth her hands over the skirt of her gown, a critical eye examining herself in the mirror. She turned slightly, the gown moving with her, so she could view the back… and, seemingly satisfied, Aeryn turned to face Gale properly, face lit up in a smile. “Thank you,” she said quietly, standing on her toes to press her lips against his in a soft kiss, tone grateful. “I felt as if I was going mad; it fit a matter of weeks ago.”
“Well, such things are fickle; you look nothing short of a vision,” Gale promised, circling his arms around her waist to hug her properly, kissing her forehead. “I would be positively shocked if you went five minutes without being asked for a dance by many a smitten student… or government bureaucrat.”
“It’s good, then, that I have little interest in the hands of either smitten students or government bureaucrats,” came the dry response, and Gale grinned into her hair before he felt the slight nudge of her hands against his sides. He took the hint, releasing her, holding up his hands at her mild admonishment. “Get dressed, before we really are late. What had your attention so?”
“Oh — just a spell, you know how I get when I have a problem before me I can’t yet solve.” He quickly shrugged out of his shirt, his own outfit floating toward him with a wave of his hand. He noticed, with some amusement, that it was already steamed and pressed — Aeryn’s work, no doubt, her attention to detail second to none when it came to public appearances. “But no matter.” It took a few minutes to tug on more appropriate pants and shirt, though Aeryn soon moved closer to take over button it for him, attention focused to ensure that the shirt did not wrinkle, nor a single button missed. Gale stilled to allow her fussing, watching with an immeasurable fondness as she smoothed his hands down his chest, admiring her work. She looked like a princess, dressed like this — no, a regal queen who was gracious enough to allow a peasant to take her to the ball. “May I have a kiss?” he asked, tone hopeful as he shrugged into his coat.
The question caused a quirk of her lips, and Aeryn straightened out his suit jacket, a soft hmmm escaping as she analyzed her work. Seemingly satisfied, the elf tilted her head up for a soft kiss, which Gale returned all-too-eagerly. An arm looped around her waist to hold her fast against him, and Gale was intent on continuing before he heard a muffled laugh, and Aeryn gently swatted his sides. “Enough, you; we are already late — shoes on, and we have to be away.”
“I love you,” Gale responded, stealing another brief kiss before surrendering to the notion of having to finish getting dressed. He sank down onto their bed to finish pulling on socks and shoes, tying them off with a flick of his fingers. “The most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, and I am lucky enough to have her in my bed at the end of the evening.” Gale tilted his head back with a warm smile as Aeryn moved back into his space, tilting her head into her touch as she combed his hair through with her fingers, in some attempt of neatness. “How do I look?”
“Handsome,” Aeryn said with a smile, letting her hands cup his face so she could press her lips against his forehead. “Appropriately disheveled, I think. The Academy will be delighted to see you in something other than ink-stained robes. As am I,” the elf added, turning away to move toward the door. Thankfully, her attention seemed on the evening ahead, as she paid no mind to the folded cloak on the dresser. Gale was quick to his feet, grabbing up his own cloak to swing over his shoulders, the cloak that he had made tucked underneath his arm, out of sight. “I do think this is the first time I’ve seen you properly dressed since we last saw our friends.”
“It is indeed!” Tara’s voice floated from down the hall, and Gale sighed to himself, slipping a hand through Aeryn’s arm as they moved toward the stairs. The tressym flicked her tail, a tell-tale sign of approval at the pair, and she purred, “You both look absolutely lovely, though Mr. Dekarios would look even more handsome if—”
“I am not shaving, Tara,” Gale interrupted, tone a bit flat as Aeryn laughed, stepping around his dear friend as he escorted his wife down the stairs. “For the love of—”
“I quite like it, Tara,” Aeryn smoothly interjected, and the tressym ruffled her wings in exasperation as she remained at the top of the steps, not following the couple down. “I think he looks rather distinguished — but we will miss you dearly, and will bring back supper.” Ever the diplomat.
“ Distinguished ,” Gale repeated with a pointed look back up the stairs, to which Tara responded with a roll of her eyes as she disappeared from the top of the stairs back to the library, presumably to continue her nap. “Honestly, the more she complains, the more determined I am to keep it… now, the carriage—” He had hired a carriage to bring them to the Academy, not wanting to risk teleportation given Aeryn had been ill not even the week before. Thankfully, the Tower had a simple entrance to the streets of Waterdeep; his wife would not have to go too far to the carriage to Blackstaff.
Before they headed into the cold, though, Gale paused before releasing Aeryn’s arm, taking the moment to sweep the cloak tucked underneath his free arm around his wife’s shoulders. It settled around her perfectly, and the elf blinked in surprise as the wizard pulled the cloak around her, fastening it underneath her chin with a warm smile.
“Happy birthday, my darling,” he murmured, taking care to pull the hood up, careful not to disturb her hair. The white fur and dark wool accented her features perfectly, and he smoothed his hands down her arms, contented that the cloak fit. “I promise we will have a less public celebration this coming weekend, hm? Something with multiple courses and chocolate-covered fruit, without having to entertain others.”
The surprise soon melted into something quite warm, and Aeryn laughed — the sound soft as fallen snow. There was a slight pink in her cheeks, peeking around the silver scales that scattered her cheekbones, and the sorcerer tugged the cloak still closer, tucking her nose into the fur. “Is this what’s kept you in your study all these late hours?”
“I will neither confirm nor deny my illicit late-night activities,” Gale said with a slight grin, watching his wife adjust the cloak around her shoulders. “But I admit I did want to give you something unique for your birthday, even though you will be spending it terribly bored… do you like it?”
“I love it,” Aeryn breathed, taking half a step forward to kiss his cheek. He resisted the urge to chase after it with a kiss of his own, simply watching her continue to revel in the present she had been given. “But I do not trust that it is a simple winter cloak.” The elf spread her hands slightly, tilting her head. Gale could feel Aeryn’s own mastery of the Weave exploring the cloak, tentatively interacting with the layers of enchantment that now surrounded her. To his satisfaction, Aeryn did not seem to pin precisely what the cloak did. “What exactly have you given me, Mr. Dekarios?”
“A present fitting for the most resplendent woman in Waterdeep, Mrs. Dekarios,” Gale responded with a warm smile, taking her hand to allow her stable footing upon the icy steps as they move onto the street. “I suppose you will have to explore it fully to discover its secrets.”