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Astarion could only make the trek from the Underdark to Waterdeep when the sun dipped below the horizon. He’d have to be quick, too, because Waterdeep was fairly far. The night would be halfway over by the time he made it to Gale’s.
Gale had asked him about the sussur tree once again, wondering if its seeds could be made into a potion. He knew that sussur blooms themselves could not survive outside the Underdark, but he was very curious about the seeds, as well as their conditions.
When Astarion neared Gale’s tower, his mouth dropped. His garden had grown significantly since his last visit, and he wondered. With what did Gale expand his garden, and how had it been so long since he last saw the wizard?
Gale was sitting on his front steps, his form adorned in a purple bathrobe, fluffy and obnoxious. Astarion rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Gale could be even more extravagant than himself. Figures, with his previous proximity to a literal goddess.
“Ah, Astarion! You’re just in time. I’ve prepared some nightshade, as well as some shadowleaf. I figured that both may be quite useful. If I were to combine the seeds of a sussur tree with some shadowleaf, that would make for a magnificent potion for you to utilize in the Underdark.”
Gale stood up and opened his arms, then patted his chest, expecting a hug. Astarion dared to smile, resting his forehead against Gale’s, whose arms wrapped around him. It was a shame that Gale couldn’t stand life in the Underdark. Otherwise, their relationship may have been very different.
“I also have some sourgrass. We’re going to see what, exactly, that does. I think you would find it most helpful.”
Astarion looked a bit confused. Sourgrass was often found among the blades of the sun-bleached grass upon mountains and hills. Why would he need something in such close proximity to the sun? Why would it be helpful?
“Well, I haven’t been opposed to having odd things in my mouth lately. Why not?” He smiled with a bit of mirth.
Gale rolled his eyes. Classic Astarion.
“Come in, come in. I know it’s been a while since you’ve visited and it was certainly not in the best shape when you last showed up. I can assure you, I have cleaned, rearranged, and dusted significantly!”
Gale beckoned him inside by throwing his arm out, elbow pointing outward, expecting Astarion to take his arm like a dance partner. The vampire scoffed, but ultimately obliged, looping his arm with Gale’s as they trotted inside.
It seems that Gale was right. His books seemed to be color-coded and have their own place on the shelf. In the cylindrical space cut out of the wall, a brilliant window exposed a desk full of plants to the sun during the daytime, bathing them in natural light. The plants on said desk moved with the draft flowing in through the window, small leaves and branches fluttering in tandem with the wind’s song. Gods, even a few feet away, Astarion could smell the pungence of the sourgrass. Willing himself not to gag, he turned to Gale.
“That stuff smells horrible. I’d only seen it a few times on our adventure, but never before that.”
Gale nodded, responding in kind, “Makes sense. Sourgrass often inhabits sunnier patches of land. I assume that those were areas you tended to avoid.”
Astarion opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when he saw Gale take out a mortar and pestle. Instead, he stepped back, knowing that the pungency of the sourgrass would only increase when ground into small bits.
From a glass dropper, Gale added a few drops of rainwater to the mortar, then the sourgrass.
“First, I’m going to make a paste. It shall be much easier to add the sussur seeds that way, because seeds tend to take very well to moisture.”
Astarion rolled his eyes. He didn’t know much about alchemy, but he knew that seeds needed some sort of dampness to germinate. Before getting lost in his thoughts, he listened to the subtle crunching as the sourgrass was ground into a paste. Gale threw a sussur seed or two in at a time, gave it a sniff, then added more.
“...Do you think shadowleaf would make it taste worse?” Gale asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Hold on. You expect ME to eat this?” Astarion placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense, though part of him did feel slightly reluctant. “My, my, Gale, I thought you’d know more of my sophisticated palate.”
Gale was about to add the shadowleaf, but with a peek through his curtains, he noted that the sun was beginning to rise. Astarion noticed, too.
“Gale, I know I haven’t been here that long, but I should really get going…”
“No. Quick, eat this!”
Gale shoved the mortar into Astarion’s hands, and a paste with the consistency of one of Tara’s hairballs greeted him with a nasty sight. He grimaced, but Gale had this look of pure desperation on his face that made him change his mind.
“...Fine.”
Astarion grabbed a small glob of the paste and popped it in his mouth. Though slightly bitter, he was surprised at the amount of sugary sweetness from the sussur seeds, which cut into the bite of the sourgrass. He gagged at the consistency, though, as there were crunchy bits of seeds among the softness of the paste.
“God, Gale, maybe you should add some honey to this…” Astarion remarked, tempted to spit it out.
“Just swallow. C’mon, I’m sure you’ve swallowed much, much worse than that.”
A few months ago, Astarion would have thrown a tantrum and kicked Gale in the nads for that. However, he shook his head with a mirthful smile, then allowed the mixture to languidly slither down his throat.
Gale stared at him expectantly. Within a few moments, Astarion felt… different. Warmer. Relaxed.
“Step outside, Astarion. In front of the rising sun. Watch what happens.”
Astarion’s eyes bugged out.
“You cannot be serious. You want me to burn my skin off after a bit of alchemy?!”
“Trust me, Astarion! Go outside!”
Astarion frowned. Although he didn’t want to, he’d have to step outside in order to leave, either way. So, with a turn of the heel, he walked out of the front door and into the distance, following the rising sun.
Gale’s tower stood on a steep hill. Astarion made his way toward the side of the hill that faced the sun, his fists clenched at his sides. He hadn’t stood in the sun since the astral tadpole inhabited his skull, and he wasn’t used to the gentle warmth.
Wait…
Gentle warmth?
He spun around, seeing Gale standing behind him, a smug smile adorning his features.
“Knew it would work,” he muttered to himself, wrapping Astarion in his arms once again. This time, the hug was tighter, more secure than what he greeted the vampire with.
“The sourgrass can… help with sunburns. The seeds of a sussur tree, from what I heard, help with sunlight immunity. This won’t last forever, but if you bring me some more seeds from the Underdark, I can attempt to make a bigger batch. The shadowleaf that I’ve got can also render you invisible, in case you’re afraid of going out in public agai–”
Gale was interrupted by a warm set of lips being pressed to his own. He tensed up for a bit, then settled into Astarion’s arms, the two of them wrapped in each other as the sun rose over the horizon, decorating the sky in lovely reds and oranges.
“Gale… I never thought I would see that again,” Astarion whispered as he pulled away, looking behind him to watch the sun rise. Gale held Astarion’s hips with a firm grip.
“We need to get more seeds, yes, but…”
Astarion turned to Gale, looking confused in wake of the wizard’s pause.
“...Stay with me. You can go back to the Underdark during the day, but please, when I have enough to last, stay with me.”
Astarion blinked, processing what Gale had just said. If he chose to stay with him, he risked burning his skin off if he were to build a tolerance to the alchemical solution. However, staying with Gale…
“Please, Gale. Let me stay.”
Their fingers tangled together, their hands forming a stable grip on one another.
“Had I not meant it, I would not have asked.”