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Astarion didn’t sleep. He hadn’t learned how to. Six thousand years on this planet and he’d never seen the point of it.
He rather wished he’d had. Maybe it would have made ignoring Minthara possible.
He knew he would end up being the first to break. Gods, he despised the lapis sometimes. She was absolutely unbending—ironic, considering her control over water. Unswerving, unflappable, unstoppable, other words that started in ‘un’, the list went on. There was a reason she was of the terraforming cut.
And now she was standing over him. Glaring.
“What?” he finally snapped.
“You are the one who ‘crashed’ in our barn,” came from the rafters, followed by a pointed, chartreuse face that glared over the edge.
Ugh . Lae’zel was nearly as bad as Minthara. He’d been relieved when the peridot had left the temple to take up residence in the abandoned barn far, far away from the rest of them.
“You are the one who hasn’t said a word as to why,” she growled at him. Growled! “Speak, pearl .”
“I don’t take orders, darling, ” he spat back as he sat up, the rage already beginning to boil over. “Not from anyone, not anymore. And especially not from some newly erupted peridot—”
“ Tchk! Before I was trapped on this miserable planet I was operator of one of the mightiest crèche in the Great Diamond Authority—”
“Enough.” Minthara declared, raising her hand.
“If I’ve already worn out my welcome, you needn’t be polite about it,” Astarion pivoted with his most careless airs as he rose from his nest of dusty blankets and hay.
“The sapphire was asking about you,” Minthara stated, and Astarion froze.
THE sapphire.
Gale.
⭐
At some point in the long millenniums of exile, they’d all taken on human things. Names, for one. Lae’zel had asked about names early on, before ‘truce’ became friendship.
(Well. ‘Friendship’ for Tav and some of the other Crystal Gems. Certainly not for Shadowheart yet, and even Astarion still had his reservations about the peridot.)
“But why bother?” Lae’zel had growled, staring at the donut in her hand like it had personally wronged her. Tav—young, eager, half-human Tav—had insisted she take one, and she had complied. “I have a designation for identification: Peridot Facet-2F5L Cut-5XG.”
“Because we’re not just gems—we’re Crystal Gems!” Karlach had hollered in glee, spraying the powdered sugar from the donut she was eating everywhere . “It doesn’t matter why we were made or how we were made, we’re all unique, you know?”
“Yea!” Tav had jumped in. “Names are really important to humans. Like, even though my mom and dad named me, my dad says if I ever wanted a new name he’d understand and be happy I was ‘finding myself’.”
“That sounds like Halsin, alright,” Karlach had laughed.
“You could name yourself something new, Peridot! You just have to pick a word that feels like you!” Tav had promised. “It could be something meaningful! It could be something that you just like the sound of!”
“So the bismuth…” Lae’zel had prompted.
“Yea, so there was this playwright or something back in the day—gosh, Wyll still loves his stuff! He used to audition at the community theater. They’ve banned those plays since. Wyll would get …really intense about the Bard and his ‘artistic intentions’,” Karlach had explained, a bit rueful.
“And the amethyst?” And Lae’zel’s lip had curled into a sneer at the thought of her. Their first encounter had gone…poorly.
“Oh, ‘Shadowheart’? That’s more of a translation of a word from this one, like, tribe of humans she used to be keen on. They were real dark and mysterious. I mean, I think it suits her but her name’s not really up to me, you know?”
“And you chose ‘Karlach’ because?”
Karlach had laughed. “That isn’t even my first name, and I doubt it’ll be my last. I donno, I just like the sound of it! It just feels bad ass! Makes a great wrestling name—KARLACH THE FINISHER!” she then roared, startling the people walking on the nearby boardwalk.
“Fine,” Lae’zel had sniffed, still holding the donut awkwardly like it was a potential threat. “And what is the explanation for your designation, Astarion?”
They had been in Greece hunting for gem shards. Work done, the sapphire had slipped away as they were heading back to the gem portal. He had followed wanting to know where the sapphire thought he was going.
It turned out they were close to a little human amphitheater, performing some little play in honor of their little human gods. He hadn’t understood a word of it—he hadn’t seen the point in trying to learn any of those silly human languages back then—but the sapphire knew enough to offer breathless commentary of the drama played out below.
“So they were punished by this Poseidon for deciding they would rather be ruled by Hera?” he asked.
“Correct! And thus, water only flows in these three rivers seasonally!” the sapphire clarified.
“These gods might as well be Diamonds,” he sniffed. “Why would humans ever come up with such terrible beings that don’t even exist?”
“That’s humans for you!” the sapphire laughed. “Really, there’s no need for such a flowery tale to explain a perfectly natural phenomena. But gosh, it is thrilling. What will they come up with next?”
He let the sapphire babble on and on on the walk back, half listening as he absently picked the small white flowers that grew alongside the road. “Funny that the human’s would give the same name of their river god to that little flower,” the sapphire shared, noticing the bloom. “Did you know the root of that word means ‘star’?”
Astarion waited a decade before he revealed he’d picked the name for himself. He didn’t want the sapphire thinking he’d played any part in his choice.
“From the play!” the sapphire declared regardless, delighted at the memory.
“Oh, I can hardly remember, darling,” Astarion had said that day outside of the Big Donut. “It was so long ago, it’s hardly important.”
⭐
Gender had come next. What a concept that was.
They’d all been the same! It didn’t matter the shape, they’d all been gems and their leader, Durge, had translated the singular pronoun of Gemspeak as ‘she’. It had been fine!
And then it had been the stupid, smug sapphire Gale of all gems who declared himself a ‘he’ first. Karlach had been gobsmacked.
“We can just do that!?” she’d demanded.
“I don’t see why not,” Gale had replied in his stupid, smug way.
Karlach spent a century cycling through pronouns until settling back on ‘she’. ‘Names were more fun’, she’d said.
Astarion knew his shape, knew what felt right, knew the edges of his light projection. Little of that had changed when he had regenerated after a particularly annoying fight with a spike gem monster—
(He’d been fine, until he hadn’t dodged fast enough from the exploding gem spikes. How embarrassing.)
—but in that moment of reformation he found himself asking the others to use ‘he’ moving forward. Gale and Wyll had been insufferable. They had wanted to throw a ‘boys party’.
“Don’t read too much into it,” he’d snapped at them instead.
⭐
“Well, what did Gale want?” Astarion asked Minthara, trying to play it cool and disinterested.
“I am a precise weapon of destruction and reformation. I am not a messenger,” she intoned, humorless. “I am merely informing you of events that have occurred in my presence.”
“Oh, that is so very useful, thank you,” Astarion taunted.
“You are welcome,” she affirmed, unaffected.
“Hey guys? Are you around? I’m looking for Astarion!” came from outside the barn.
“Don’t—” Astarion tried to hiss, but Lae’zel was too quick.
“He’s in here, Tav! Being strange and uncooperative and he’s taken all the blankets,” Lae’zel responded, the dirty rat.
The barn doors opened, and there was Tav.
⭐
It had been easier to pretend Tav was something new when he was just a…worm? Baby? Child? He had been so completely unlike Durge, it was—
Well it wasn’t easy to still see Durge’s gem right there, especially when no one else knew the real shape of it.
It had been her last real command over him, one last order that had sealed his lips forever. It was almost funny. How would he even tell the others?
‘Oh, hello everyone! So. Funny story. The quartz we all knew as Durge? The one we followed and fought for against the Diamonds? Yes, well, ha!--she’d been the very Diamond we'd been rebelling against the whole time! I would have told you all sooner, but she literally commanded me to never speak of it again! Ha!’
Pink Diamond hadn’t even BEEN his Diamond. His Diamond was White Diamond—meticulous, demanding, terrifying. Astarion had merely been a gift after Pink had shattered her own pearl in a rage. He’d been the thoughtless transference of property to an impatient child.
'Try to not break this one.’ It had been said so carelessly.
Astarion might be just a pearl, but he had no intention of getting shattered. And so he’d done everything his new Diamond had ordered of him, asked of him, even long after she had taken on her new form as a quartz and new name of Durge and her new identity as leader of the Crystal Gems and new mission to save the Earth from her fellow Diamonds.
But she’d always be Pink Diamond to him. And how could he say no to a Diamond?
Fusion. He was the gem she reached for in the heat of battle. She had a diamond’s power, but there was a rage within him that caused their fusion to erupt into a giant, snarling, teeth-gnashing, multi-armed monster capable of tearing through Homeworld Gems like tissue paper.
They were so very powerful together. The other Crystal Gems often commented on how stable and strong their fusion was.
They had no idea that if Durge wanted, she could have kept fused with Astarion for months, years even. Once fused, Astarion never had the power to break free. Every time, the knowledge that she could hold the fusion together just a little bit longer if needed, even if he wanted to let go rankled him. Still, he’d never fought it. He’d allowed himself to be subsumed by her, floating into an endless blood red plane with no edge or surface.
Even towards the end when Durge had fallen in love with a human , when Durge had become soft and sweet and worried about what might come for them, for her son, she’d never apologized.
And now the boy that bore her gem was standing before him. Wanting to talk.
“Oh, ah,” and Astarion gave a short laugh and a careless wave as he tried to play it cool. “Hello, Tav, what brings you here to this wonderful rustic enclave?”
Tav had his hands shoved into his hoodie, one of his gentle, worried smiles on his face. “Hey, Astarion!” he said, just a little too loud, just a little too chipper. “We miss you at the house! You know, board game night just isn’t the same without you there! Shadowheart actually makes us play by the rules instead of just yelling at you for cheating—”
“That’s what she gets for being a rules lawyer. As rules magistrate, she should know by now I’ll dismiss any case she brings forth,” Astarion joked airily, hoping it would distract Tav.
“Did something happen?” Tav said, jumping right to it. “It’s just Gale’s been really quiet since you left and if I can help—”
Astarion paused for a moment too long. “Gale? Quiet? My dear Tav, you should enjoy the silence while you can!” and he gave a trill of a laugh.
Tav’s mouth twisted in worry. “It’s ok, you know,” he said, lowering his voice so Minthara and Lae’zel couldn’t overhear. “If you had a fight and you need time away, it’s ok! It’s just, Dad says sometimes it helps to have a mediator when people have had a disagreement, you know? And you and Gale always seemed to get along really well and I’m worried, and I’d like to help. I’m sorry, I know I’m rambling, but—”
Astarion studied Tav as he went on and on, telling a story about the time he and Arabella got into a boardwalk turf war with another child named Mol—
The thing was, Tav was no longer some helpless small being.Tav had transformed, grown into something that had thoughts and opinions and who made choices.
Astarion couldn’t help but stare at Tav, this…human? Gem? Something new? Wondering how long it would be before he was big and strong enough to remember what Astarion was good for.
“Tav. Really, it doesn’t concern you,” Astarion said, holding up a hand. “Thank you for the offer, however.”
Tav looked at him with his eyes that were too wide and too soft.
“Okay.”
For years he’d waited for Tav to be what he feared the most, none of the other gems the wiser. Astarion had waited while his little secret of what their fearless leader had truly been all along compounded interest. He’d waited for Tav to reveal himself as just the new form of Durge, with all of her memories, and impulses, and sins.
And then…nothing. Where Durge would have ordered, Tav only accepted.
“If that changes, you know where to find me!” Tav said, and he threw up some ‘finger guns’ before retreating from the barn.
The worst part was sometimes Astarion wished Tav would push.
Sometimes he missed having a clear purpose.
⭐
Barely a few hours later, there was another surprise for Astarion.
“I am a projection sent by the sapphire known as Gale, tasked with inviting you to speak in the private or public setting of your comfort level and choosing.”
Astarion had turned the corner of the barn to find the blue-purple projection waiting for him. He hated Gale’s projections. The eyes were always blank, the form just a little too stiff, too formal even for Gale. Astarion wanted to screech at it, stab it over and over with his gem weapons until the hard light projection dissipated.
“There’s nothing to talk about!” he yelled at it instead.
“I have been instructed to inform you that is not the case, and that allowing this to continue to go unaddressed will be unwise. Tav has noticed that something is wrong, and unless this is resolved between us he will get further involved. Based on previous experiences, this will involve ‘trust falls’ and other supervised exercises. He may reach an unstable emotional state that will result in crying—”
“Shit,” Astarion growled. “Shit shit shit—”
He took a deep breath he didn’t need.
“FINE! The lighthouse! Right now!” Astarion ordered, and for a wild moment, he hoped Gale’s projection would balk.
“Thank you! The sapphire known as Gale will meet you there as soon as possible. Farewell.”
⭐
Gale had arrived late to the rebellion. He’d belonged to Blue Diamond, with her silver stars and inscrutable facade. Blue Diamond had vowed to crush the rebels that threatened Pink Diamond, unhinged and inexperienced though Pink had been.
They found him, alone, wandering the wilderness. “Hello!” he’d greeted them, like the last time he had seen them wasn’t when they had attacked Blue Diamond’s palanquin. He should have been hostile towards them, terrified even. Instead he’d been insufferably polite.
Gale—just sapphire then—explained that he had fled from his Diamond, but he had brushed off offering any further details. ‘ Had to get out of there double quick!’ he would say if anyone asked.
He folded himself into the Rebellion cheerfully, doing everything he could to help. Astarion had wanted to cuff him aside the head. He’d just lost everything —Home World, his purpose, His Diamond. Instead he’d just attached himself to Durge like a lichen, wanting to be useful .
And yet, not once had he offered to fuse with any other Crystal Gem.
“Could we fuse, Gale?” Tav had said, throwing his arms around Gale’s middle. Tav was just back from a breathless dangerous mission where Shadowheart and Karlach had fused and he’d gone on and on for hours about how they had made A GIANT WOMAN and how AMAZING it had been—
“What do you think we’d be? Oh oh, what if we had three eyes! Maybe we’ll have FOUR ARMS! Do you think we’ll be GIANT? Do you think we’ll be so big we could pick up my dad and put him on top of the Big Donut?”
“Why would you even want to do that?” Astarion had asked from his perch on the counter, confused.
Gale had patted the boy’s head fondly even as he was flustered. “Ah, well, Tav, you see, I’ve never actually fused before,” he had started.
“Why not?” Tav had interrupted, surprised. “I thought all gems fused!”
“Well, yes, all gems CAN fuse, but you see, it’s. Well you see, Tav, fusion is—” and the usually loquacious gem struggled terribly to find the words.
“It’s because he’s a Court Gem,” Astarion had interrupted, feeling mischievous at the sight of Gale tripping over his words for once. “Fusion is very forbidden in the Diamond Courts. It’s considered… Off Color.”
“Don’t listen to him, Tav. there’s nothing Off Color about fusion!” Gale had protested, shooting a glare over at Astarion.
Gale then blinked, and as was his want he got lost following the thought. “Well, I mean, he’s not incorrect, back on Home World fusion is considered—well it’s just not done between gems that aren’t the same kind of gem. But just because it's not accepted on Home World that doesn’t make fusion itself wrong. It’s Home World that’s wrong! Regardless, I personally have never fused before,” Gale gave as his explanation. “I’m sure Wyll or Karlach or Shadowheart would be thrilled to help, and they have much more experience—”
“But practice makes perfect!” Tav had whined, looking up at Gale with his giant star-filled eyes. “Please, Gale?”
Never once had Durge said ‘please’, she’d never even asked. She would just hold out her hand in expectation. So Astarion wasn’t sure why he snapped at the boy that carried Durge’s gem.
“He said No, Tav,” Astarion had said, his voice sharp as he hopped off the counter and crossed his arms in defiance. “No. It’s a complete sentence, non-negotiable. Stop it.”
Tav had startled, jumping back from Gale. He looked between Gale and Astarion, his face sheet white. “I’m sorry, Gale! I didn’t mean to push. I’ll leave you alone—”
And Tav was out of the house, the screen door slamming behind him before Gale could say anything.
“There was no need to be mean about it,” Gale had protested, looking at Astarion. “Tav has only existed for ten years, he has a lot to learn still—”
“Then there’s no time like the present for him to learn,” Astarion had shot back, still feeling raw and with no idea why.
Gale had huffed as he crossed his arms. “I don’t see what the harm is!”
“You really wouldn’t, would you?” Astarion had snarled, and stalked to the temple door and disappeared into his room before Gale could get another word in edgewise.
The Day of The Shattering was the last time Astarion had been forced to fuse. After that, Durge never asked, never demanded, and like hell Astarion was going to offer. Let Durge fuse with Wyll—their dance measured, sweet, controlled. Let her fuse with Karlach—a joyful, fiery, impulsive thing. Astarion was done. Astarion was FREE.
Until Gale.
⭐
The thing was he liked Gale. He hadn’t always gotten along with the other gem but as the millennia had gone by he found they tended to orbit each other like binary stars. They had the same sort of humor in so many strange ways. Hells, they even have a book club since at least the human 19th century.
—well, “book club” in that Gale hoarded books and scrolls in his Temple room and Astarion would “borrow” them. Gale had been terribly upset the first few times he’d caught Astarion, but Astarion quickly learned if he had read the book and had thoughts to share about it, Gale didn’t actually care that Astarion had “borrowed” the book in the first place.
Their little book club was still happening all these decades later. They could spend hours sitting in the same space with a book each—sometimes sharing their thoughts, other times just existing together, with no pressure or expectations.
It was nice. Until Astarion had ruined everything.
The memory haunted him as he left the barn and made the long trek to the Lighthouse. He’d gone over it, over and over again, trying to piece out where he’d gone wrong.
It had started when he had emerged from the Temple. Though they called the house built around the Temple door ‘Tav’s room’, it was the de facto common area for all the Gems. Gale had been on the sofa, reading. The book was brand new, and one that Astarion recognized immediately.
“Is that the latest Drizzt Do'Urden?” Astarion gasped
“It is,” Gale said, turning the page with a cheeky grin.
“Why didn’t you didn’t tell me it was out!” Astarion cried as he threw himself on the sofa next to him.
“I did!” Gale protested, finally looking up from the book. “A month ago! I told you ‘oh, the latest Drizzt is coming out soon, you should put a hold on it at the library’.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Astarion pouted. “I am barely allowed in that wretched place anymore!”
“If you cleared your debts to the library, you would be,” Gale countered, wagging his finger. “Then you could take out all the books you wanted instead of taking them from my room.”
“But then I have to give them back,” Astarion whined. “Besides, that dreadful librarian claims I owe hundreds of dollars worth of overdue fees. Where am I supposed to get that kind of cash if I’m not allowed to just steal it anymore?”
Gale just gave him a long suffering look before going back to the book. Astarion shimmied closer to him on the sofa.
“Darling, would you be so kind as to let me read it first?” he asked, voice dripping with innocence.
“Absolutely not,” Gale said, but with a chuckle. “I put it on hold at the library. As Tav would say—I get first dibs.”
“You aren’t that far in. I can catch up and we can read it together,” Astarion offered like he was doing Gale a favor.
Gale sighed, but it was really more of a hum. ““Very well,” he acquiesced, and he flipped back to the beginning of the book.
Delighted, Astarion moved up onto his knees, and draped himself over Gale’s back, throwing his arms around him as he rested his head on his shoulder.
(It was one of their little agreements—Astarion hated to be touched without warning, but Gale was far more welcome of tactile connection. Astarion was allowed to touch Gale without asking. Gale wouldn’t touch him unless Astarion had initiated. Just one of those understandings that had fallen into over the years.)
Gale gave a small huff as Astarion settled in. “Tap when you’re done and I’ll turn the page,” he offered.
Astarion was a fast reader, and they fell into an easy rhythm. Gale shifted to hold the book in a better position, and he rested his free hand on Astarion’s forearm which was close to the gem on Gale’s chest. Astarion had always been jealous of gems that had convenient placement. Astarion’s gem was on his back. It was hard to shield against attack. It had always felt unsafe, and it made him nervous.
With his arms curled around Gale’s torso, Astarion could feel the resonance of Gale’s gem. The hint of vibration felt pleasant. Harmonious.
It had been a warm day, but there was a cool breeze coming in through the screen door. The hum between their forms was gentle, soothing. Astarion tapped for the next page, but allowed himself to close his eyes. It was really just a slow blink—
When he opened his eyes again he had four, and there was a purple-blue gem in the middle of his chest.
⭐
Astarion had foolishly hoped that if he dragged his feet and took the long way, Gale might get tired and leave the agreed upon rendezvous. As he approached the old lighthouse on the cliff over the Temple, however, he could see he had no such luck.
Gale was sitting on the lighthouse steps. He had the particularly dreamy look he had when he was lost in thought. Normally, Astarion would have snuck up on him, gotten right behind him and startled him with a whispered ‘boo’.
Astarion got close enough to do just that. A million possible opening lines fell away as Astarion found himself saying, “I’m sorry.”
Gale’s head whipped around, and he nearly keeled over from trying to stand so fast.
“Astarion!” he declared, and the look on his face was perfectly pleasant and eager. But Gale couldn’t hide the way his hands twitched at his sides, his most obvious nervous tic.
“Thank you for joining me,” Gale pushed onwards with an awkward bow. “It was well within your right to ignore me forever! But please, I must beg you—you are certainly not the one who needs to apologize for the incident that happened three days ago. I take full responsibility for…well, I mean. That is to say—
“Don’t be absurd!” Astarion snapped, crossing his arms defensively. “We fused. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
Gale paused. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head. It made Astarion feel nervous.
“Just…accept the apology!” Astarion goaded, the panic rising. “Or don’t! It’s fine, it’s—”
“I think I would like to know what exactly you think you need to apologize for?” Gale finally asked, the uncertainty crystal clear in his voice.
Astarion looked towards the sky in mortification. “You can’t be serious!” he whined.
“I would like to know,” Gale assured him.
Astarion dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. He took a deep breath. “You don’t fuse.”
“That is correct,” Gale confirmed, confusion even stronger now in his voice.
“ Ever. ” Astarion drawled, his gaze hard as he looked back at Gale. Gale, still standing there with his soft mouth and sad, large eyes. Infuriating. “Not once with any of us. In millennia. I didn’t mean for it to happen but it happened. And I’m sorry,” tumbled out of Astarion’s mouth, desperate and weak. “I’m. So, so sorry.”
“But it takes two to fuse,” was not what Astarion expected to hear from Gale’s mouth.
“...What?” Astarion asked, suddenly numb.
“Astarion, I should be the one apologizing! I have no experience with fusion, clearly I should have stopped what happened but I didn’t and that is unconscionable and my ignorance is no excuse for my failure—"
“You didn’t force me,” Astarion snapped.
“Oh,” Gale said. A pause, long enough to be awkward between them. Gale shook his head. “Regardless. There is the matter of. Well. That is to say. Even if you fused with me willingly, you did so under false pretenses.”
Gale paused again, and looked at Astarion. He visibly steadied himself. “You must have felt it. While we were fused,” he prompted Astarion gently.
Astarion could feel the confusion on his face grow as he thought back to that day on the sofa. Fusing with Gale—accidental as it was—had been totally unlike fusing with Durge. Astarion had been the equal half of a greater whole instead of made small. He’d been wholly present instead of lost within another presence.
It had felt right, it had felt good, it had felt strong , but in a way that felt real and within his control.
Ergo he must have taken something that wasn’t his to have.
“I don’t know what in the hells you are trying to say!” Astarion yelled in frustration. “Speak plainly!”
“May I show you?” Gale asked softly, holding out his hand.
Astarion looked at it for a moment, unsure how Gale could even bear the thought of his touch.
Still, the fool had offered, and so Astarion took his hand.
Gale gave Astarion’s hand a gentle squeeze, and then turned his torso as he brought his other hand to the gem in his chest.
The past rose before them in dazzling, sparkling purples and blues. A memory perfectly preserved, nearly as tall as the lighthouse itself.
Astarion almost dropped Gale’s hand in reflexive terror.
It was a projection of Blue Diamond.
“My Diamond—”
The sound of Gale’s voice drew Astarion’s eye away from the awesome and awful figure of Blue Diamond. In front of them stood the much smaller projected memory of Gale.
Astarion stilled at the sight. He’d forgotten what Gale had looked like when they had first met, back when he still proudly wore his Diamond’s symbol on his form. The projection of Gale’s past self was so proper and resplendent, a truly precious jewel in his Diamond’s diadem. But Astarion could still see the Gale he knew in the regal sapphire before them. He was there, he had always been there—in the way he stood, in the way he didn’t seem to truly understand fear. So trusting, so CERTAIN.
Astarion hated himself all the more for what he had done to him.
“Explain yourself.”
A command from Blue Diamond herself—Astarion could almost feel the compulsion that would have billowed from her like waves.
“It is impossible that they were shielded from me,” Gale said, plainly and unafraid.
“You didn’t!” Astarion blurted out.
“I did,” Gale remarked.
“To Blue Diamond?!” Astarion squawked.
“Yes,” Gale said, with some great embarrassment.
“ No ordinary gem is beyond my Sight,” Gale continued, unfazed by the look on Blue Diamond’s face.
“What makes you so certain?” Blue Diamond asked.
Her tone made Astarion blanche with terror. “Gale—”
“If I couldn’t foresee their actions, the Quartz would have to be as powerful as a…” and Gale laughed in the memory.
“As powerful as what?” Blue Diamond repeated.
Even though it was a memory, Astarion wanted to curl up away from her voice. He wanted to sneer, scream at the projected memory of Gale, just standing there. So trusting that his Diamond would be just and merciful, so entirely ignorant of what was about to happen.
“A Diamond, My Diamond!” Gale declared as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the universe. “And that is quite—”
Astarion’s hands flew to his mouth as he gasped. Gale never got to finish his thought.
The blow should have shattered Gale. But as the dust in the memory settled, there he stood, his gem barely cracked and easy to heal like Astarion remembered—a reflexive shield of duplicated images of himself had taken the worst of the Diamond’s seismic strike.
To use your own power against a Diamond even in self defense was unthinkable back then. Astarion marveled Gale had even dared. In the memory, Gale’s eyes widen as he turned, and—
The projection of the past dissipated. It took Astarion a moment to realize Gale had started talking.
“--a bitter gift, I suppose. Though I wouldn’t change what happened for the world. If there wasn’t something defective about me, I might still be in Blue Diamond’s service. But because I failed her I was forced to flee, which led me to finding the rebellion. To finding all of you.”
“...Defective?” Astarion repeated, finally catching up. “I don’t understand,” he admitted, annoyance rising within him.
“Astarion—I was considered particularly brilliant among my cut. But for all my brilliance, I was unable to foresee Durge’s attack. She was just a Quartz—a remarkable Quartz, but just a Quartz all the same. Some… deeper flaw within me prevented me from doing what I was created to do! And since fusion combines everything that makes up different gems, the good and the bad, I couldn’t in good conscience offer myself for fusion when it might weaken another. Or worse—corrupt them.”
“Corrupt another gem?” Astarion repeated. “You?!”
Gale only nodded grimly.
“And you’ve thought this about yourself all this time?” Astarion realized.
“...Yes?” Gale faltered.
⭐
There was so much Astarion wanted to say, to scream at the sky and it all came down to his singular knowledge that of course Gale wasn’t defective. Durge was Pink Diamond all along!
But the ancient, last command closed around his throat, choking the words from him as he ground his teeth in the keening sense of everything that still wasn’t his to give freely.
⭐
There are clouds in the blue sky above. The air is as sweet and cool as that day in their home. Somehow, the sensation carries the rage he feels far away, leaving him feeling not necessarily empty, but like there is finally room for something else. Something better.
“You aren’t flawed,” Astarion says, working up to what he wants. “You’ve never been flawed. There’s no corruption in your gem. You’re smug and arrogant and infuriating and obsessive and generous and silly, but not corrupted.” And Astarion holds out his hand.
Gale hesitates.
“Silly?” Gale repeats, his brow slightly furrowed.
“Ridiculously so,” Astarion promises.
Gale takes his hand. Astarion draws him close. Or, perhaps it is the other way around. Or maybe, both of their feet move in tandem. In the end, it doesn’t really matter—what matters is that it is effortless.
A soft twirl—Astarion’s arms wrapped around Gale as he rests his chest against Gale’s back. He rests his cheek over Gale’s shoulder. Gale pulls Astarion’s arms around him tight.
It happens so gently, so softly. The resonance of their forms melting into pure light, and then—
“Oh,” the fusion realizes as he looks down at his new form. Four eyes. Two arms, however. He was a bit larger, perhaps.
“What?” spills from the same mouth though the speaker is different.
“This will make reading the same book at the same time much easier!”
The first laugh is high and punches the air with a sharp giddy sound. A different laugh follows, bubbling over, and he finds he can’t stop laughing. ‘A giggle loop’ Tav had once called it. His arms wrap around himself—the feeling is comforting and thrilling all at once.
All the fear and disgust is melting away to joy—pure joy! And the joy soon takes on additional nuance as well. The ease of belonging. Of being separate but together. Oh being whole while being two.
It’s too much too soon even though it feels so good—the fusion morphs back into pure light, and splits once more.
Astarion looks over at Gale. They are both thrown back on the grass, breathless and full of wonder.
“I had no idea it could feel like that,” Gale gasps, and Astarion can see stars in his eyes.
“Neither did I,” Astarion confesses. And he smiles.