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What it takes to defy a goddess

Summary:

As long as Tilia is the leader of their little tadpole-infested troupe, she won't allow anybody to come into camp and order one of her companions to kill themselves. Especially not an old wizard with a funny hat and a taste for cheese. It seems Gale is taking the news of his expected suicide better than her, though.

Notes:

Hey folks!

I'm slowly making my journey through the milestones of Tilia's (my druid Tav) and Gale's relationship. I thought the in-game reaction to Elminster's visit fell a little flat, so I wanted to describe its aftermath.
@akhuna was once again so incredibly kind as to betaread this oneshot. Thank you so much, bestie!

I hope all of you enjoy the story, comments and kudos mean the world to me!

Work Text:

Wait!” She ran after the wizard, ignoring the raised eyebrows of her companions. She would not let him get away with this .

“Ah, but you see, there are an awful lot of other undertakings I must tend to. Although I assure you that the rest in your camp combined with your hospitality and this most delicious helping of cheese have helped refresh me vastly.”

She stared at him, her eyes clouded with anger. “How dare you be so casual after what you’ve just done?!”

“My dear, I-”

“I am not your dear!”

“I ask your pardon for this lapse. Tilia, is it not?” Without waiting for a confirmation, he continued. “You have to understand that delivering Mystra’s message did not bring me any joy. The assignment she destined Gale for is tragical, to say the least.”

“Tragical? This isn’t a cheap play you’re talking about. Mystra told Gale to kill himself. This isn’t ‘tragical’, it’s...it’s…”

There was no word to describe it. She could’ve screamed how cruel, how horrible, how brazen Mystra’s demand was and it still wouldn’t do this horror any justice. She felt her fingertips tingling, and for a moment she feared her composure would crumble enough to channel a flood that would drown the wizard. She wouldn’t pity him. If anything, his death would be a step towards regaining the natural order. But she couldn’t do this to Gale; Elminster was important to him.

“You care for him deeply, young druid. As ancient as I may be, I am no fool. Neither am I unavowed to matters of the heart.”

“This isn’t about my feelings. You and your goddess have no right to demand this of Gale!”

The wizard had the decency to look sorry at least. Not that this changed anything, of course it didn’t.

“Although I can comprehend your anguish, I request you understand that I am solely Mystra’s messenger. As one of her chosen, I could not possibly deny this assignment. I do hope, however, that you paid attention to my words as well as Gale did. The way you care for him, they were meant for you at least as much.”

“You always have a choice. You could’ve chosen to defy Mystra’s orders.”

“Ah, one of the avails of youth – to deem the wheels that run the world stoppable. Mystra demonstrated observable benevolence in choosing me for her task. Every alternative would have been more insensate. When I asked you to look after Gale on this journey, it was as much a request in assuring his safety as it was a cue that you only need the right ingredients to brew a potion so mighty it will defy the laws of nature – and that of fate with it. To find these components, the lad will need tutelage. I hope you will be the one to provide it.”

She had no time to decipher his words, not to mention to come up with an answer. The wizard bowed his head towards her. “Tilia, the times are dire indeed. I hope when the crucial moment comes to pass you will act strictly according to your own words and make the right choice.”

With a smile – a damned smile – he tipped the brim of his h at , turned around and left.

She chewed on her lower lip to stop it from trembling and tried to swallow away the lump in her throat. Where she had wanted to make things right, to tell Elminster to go and apologize to Gale or at least to piss off, she had failed once again. Had herself be palmed off once more by another old man who felt the need to explain to her how the world worked.

Counting to ten, she swallowed once more and went back to camp. Karlach asked her if their strange visitor had been Gale’s granddad, but Tilia ignored her. She had no time for small talk, she needed to talk to Gale. She felt Astarion’s gaze piercing into her back when she entered Gale’s tent without as much as knocking against its flap. She had no time for courtesies, either.

“You won’t do it. You won’t kill yourself because an old man tells you so!”

Frowning, Gale put the tome he had been reading down and got up from his bedroll, reaching his hand out to her, but she took one step backwards and shook her head defiantly.

“Tilia...indulge me. Please.”

She should jump at him and punch him until he came back to his senses. She should conjure a wall of thorns that would imprison him so he could not do what Mystra expected of him. She should do anything, but instead, she found herself nodding. She hated herself for it, but the way he looked at her, with his big brown eyes, she could not refuse him.

“Thank you. You see...an audience with Elminster is never less than memorable. I’d have hoped to introduce you to him in less dire circumstances, but those are hard to come by these days.”

She snorted. “Why should I have wanted that in the first place? He didn’t seem much of a friend, showing up and demanding you kill yourself.”

“It’s not a demand he wanted to make of me. As Mystra’s chosen, he had no choice but to deliver her message, however much it pained him to do so.” He swallowed. “For Mystra to have sent him, the severity of her bidding could not be clearer. Or weigh more heavily on me.”

“How can you say that? He could have chosen not to come! At least, your precious goddess could have had the decency to tell you what she demands herself.”

Apart from the faint drooping of his shoulders and the hint of pain in his eyes, he didn’t seem like a man who had been just ordered to kill himself. She wondered how often, if ever, he had shown his true feelings on their journey together.

When he continued, he ignored her statement, fleeing into one of his philosophical monologues. It made her livid.

“Time seems so infinite when you are young...a month is an age, a year is a lifetime...it is a strange feeling, to realise how little of it one might have left.”

“Don’t talk like that! You can’t be serious!”

Once more, he tried to reach for her hand and once more she shook her head. He sighed.

“Tilia, I do not know how I deserve the fierce kindness and protection you hold for me. Please believe me when I say I am grateful for it. More than I could ever hope to convey. Yet, you are the leader of our group. You need to push the acceptance you have for me aside in favour of the welfare of the others. In favour of the fate of Faerûn itself. You have to realise that Elminster offers the clearest solution to our problem. All I have to do is find the right place and time, close my eyes...and let go. Then the slate will be clean, wrongs will be righted, the Absolute will be gone...and I along with it.”

“Don’t talk to me like I am a silly girl. I will do what is right. And letting yourself pull through with this bullshit is not right, Gale. It is stupid.”

She swallowed hard, trying to calm down enough for her voice not to break with her next words. There was no way she could convince Gale if she wailed like a helpless child.

“Back in the grove, when Nettie poisoned me, you told me that one respects life by fighting for it, and one respects death by fearing it.

“It is not that I do not fear death. But sacrificing myself is the best way to fight for the lives of the rest of our troupe.”

“It isn’t! Do you even listen to what you’re saying? If your goddess is so powerful, why doesn’t she go and take care of the Absolute herself?”

He sighed. “I’ve no doubt she has the power to do so but as for the permission...Ao would not look kindly on her meddling in mortal affairs. Divine intervention has a tendency to make things worse, not better.”

“And how do you know that the Absolute is not some kind of deity themselves?”

“Tilia-”

“And what is with your ‘friend’ Elminster? If he is such a mighty wizard, why can’t he come up with a solution?”

His patience was remarkable. Alas, his will to disagree with every single point she came up with was as well.

“As for Elminster...He saved the realms more times than legend can recount. But to take on a god is no easy feat, even for him. My orb is the best chance we have. And only I can wield it.”

“You can’t know that! We will find another way!”

He gave her a sad smile. “Your optimism is both admirable and exhilarant, but I am afraid right now, it is a waste of your vigour. I’m living on borrowed time, in more ways than one. Perhaps...perhaps this is how it must be.”

She balled her hands into fists again, digging her nails into her palms. It was a fruitless try to channel the anger and sadness inside her. She did not know how else she could listen to him and his stupid argumentation any longer, but she knew she had to. There were no facts left she could convince him with because he was so much smarter than her. But maybe there was a way she could make him question his decision. Maybe she could convince him with emotions rather than logic.

“Perhaps it is not. It doesn’t matter. Fact is that Elminster and Mystra don’t have the right to demand you kill yourself!”

“Mystra has. Do you remember the story I told you? I am the villain here. I am the one who has made a terrible mistake. And Mystra offers forgiveness. Please, understand what a rare and generous proposal this is. My death, even if untimely, is a fair price to pay for that.”

She could no longer hold back the tears burning in the corners of her eyes. “What good is forgiveness for a dead man, Gale? There are things you have to live for.”

“I assure you that it hurts me greatly to see you sad. You have always believed in me, have always trusted me. And I am well aware that I cannot repay you in a thousand years. Yet, I ask you once again to trust me.”

“No, Gale. You’re not blowing yourself up! I won’t let you!”

Finally, she saw a crack in his patient facade. He clenched his jaw and glared at her and she could only imagine how much self-control it took for him not to yell his next words.

“Let’s save such certainty for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.”

“I won’t!”

Tears streaming down her face, she stormed out of his tent, only to be greeted by Astarion, who gave her one of his mock smiles. “I can’t believe Mystra’s demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It’s just a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”

“Not now,” she sobbed and ran to the bridge on the edge of their camp. She heard Gale calling after her and felt the gazes of her other companions in her back, but she did not care. In an impulse, she wanted to turn left and run into the Shadowcursed Lands.

She bit her lip and forced herself to run right, back in the direction of Rosymorn Monastery. She needed to get away from camp. As soon and far as possible. She wildshaped into a raven, only to lose focus after a few wing flaps. She hit the ground like a limp rag. The pain spreading from her arm over her ribs to her hips was a welcome sensation as she rolled onto her back. The perfect melody to her self-pity; she was a lousy druid and a useless leader. She wasn’t even enough to convince the man she felt so deeply for to stay alive.

The only mercy was that the others hadn’t decided to follow her. If they saw her lying in the dust wailing like a toddler that had lost their favourite toy they would lose every respect they held for her.

When the cold from the ground started to seep into her skin, she finally got up. The sun was already setting, painting the sky in yellow, red and orange. It was beautiful, but she felt too miserable to appreciate it.

Cautiously touching her arm, ribs and hip she thanked Mielikki that she hadn’t broken anything in her fall. She took a deep breath, focused and turned into a fox. No matter how bad she was, this was the one shape she could always change in and out of at will. Strolling towards the monastery, she did not know what exactly she would do, only that she needed to get as far away from the camp as possible. Away from Gale, the others and all this fucking responsibility she could not handle in any form anyway.

When the moon was already on its way back to the horizon, she changed back. She was sore and scratched, proof of an encounter with an eagle and several thorn bushes. Nothing the little incantation she worked couldn’t heal. She felt better than a few hours before, though. She had eaten well – berries, eggs and a few worms – and she was almost sure she could face Gale without breaking into tears again or screaming at him.

The camp lay dark and silent, apart from Wyll’s snore and a faint glow coming from Gale’s tent. She knew he loved to read away the night, a habit that led to him almost always sleeping in. On many mornings, only Astarion’s constant pestering and threats of poking him with a dagger made him finally get up.

When she walked to her tent, the rustling of cloth made her turn around. It was Gale, coming out of his tent and looking at her. He still wore his robes from the evening before, which were now severely crinkled. There were dark circles under his eyes, too. He rubbed his fingers over his beard.

“I am glad you decided to come back,” he eventually whispered.

“I wouldn’t abandon my friends.”

The remark had hit home. She could see it in the way Gale lowered his gaze and nodded. She sighed and held out her hand to him.

“Can we talk?”

He didn’t hesitate to take her hand, grasping it like when he had shown her the truth about the orb in his chest. She gave him a little smile and led him to his tent. It didn’t provide much privacy, but the others were asleep or meditating, so it was enough.

Inside, he looked at where their hands were joined, rubbing little circles into the ball of her thumb.

“May I clarify the statement I just made?”

She nodded, squeezing his hand gently.

“I did not think that you would let us down. You are much too kind and responsible for such an act. What I meant was that I am glad that nothing bad happened to you. The wilderness is dangerous. Not to say you do not know how to handle danger. You have proven this time and time again, and nobody knows the perils of nature better than a druid. But you were upset, understandably so, and I should have looked after you. After all, I am the reason for your inner turmoil. That I did not is unpardonable. I do hope, however-”

Before he could ramble any more, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

“Don’t kill yourself. Please.”

It took a moment before he returned the embrace. Then, he brushed his nose against her hair.

“You’re important to me.”

With gentle force, he broke the hug and looked at her, a deep crease forming between his brows. “I am?”

“Of course! Isn’t this obvious?”

Slowly, the crease smoothed and he smiled. Then, he pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re important to me, too.”

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore her heart thumping in her chest like a nervous bird. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

Gently, he cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Not here. Not like this.”

“But-”

He let his thumb wander over her lips, silencing her. “I promise to prepare something worth the wait.”

“You don’t have to prepare anything for me.” She kissed his thumb before he could take it away.

“Indulge me, please.”

She sighed and nodded, taking his other hand and squeezing it. Slowly, without ever breaking eye contact, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. For a moment, she felt dizzy.

“You should get some rest, my dear. It still is a while until dawn will break.”

“Try to get some sleep, too, Gale. There’s another long day ahead of us.”

And still a long way to argue Gale out of his suicide mission. To show him that there was so much worth to live for. But with the way he looked at her, Tilia got the feeling she had made a good start.

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