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Astarion didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know where he was going. He only knew that he had to get away from that cursed tower, that cursed city.
That man.
That beautiful, kind, generous, and far too ambitious man that had stolen his heart only to break it. Ambition had gotten Gale into problems before he had met him and now it had taken Gale away from him.
That stupid bitch goddess had taken his love away from him.
Astarion had fought tooth and nail to keep Gale. He had fought so hard during their travels to make sure the man didn’t blow himself up for some stupid “redemption.” It had taken sweet words, soft touches, and hungry kisses to make sure Gale forgot about his goddess. The only time he had reluctantly agreed to the wizard coming into contact with Mystra again was to return the Crown to rid himself of the orb.
He thought Gale had chosen him. That’s what the wizard had proudly exclaimed. He had chosen Astarion over a Crown, over a title, over power, over immortality. He thought Gale had been happy this past year and a half with him in their tower. Things had been going good, great even. Gale finally got approved to teach evocation in addition to the abjuration classes he had already been teaching. Astarion’s tailoring business was finally taking off, the little shop starting to boom with business. Sure, they hadn’t been spending as much time as they would have liked together just because of how busy each one of them were. The only times they could do anything together outside were at night anyway and by then both were far too exhausted to do anything.
Maybe if Astarion were able to stand in the sun they would have been able to bask in each other more and then Gale wouldn’t have gotten bored of him. Gale wouldn’t have had to contact Mystra.
Astarion sniffled, rubbing at his eyes to try and will the building tears away. Gods it was hot and the thick hooded cloak he was wearing wasn’t making it any better. He was covered to the nines to protect himself from the sun. He had been walking for a good fifteen minutes already and he wasn’t even sure what part of the city he was in anymore. He knew every corner, every crevice of Waterdeep and in this moment he didn’t recognize it. In this moment, the city had betrayed him.
A few more minutes and he found himself near the docks. Perhaps he had known subconsciously where he was going this entire time. It took him less than a minute to get himself on the next ship to Baldur’s Gate. Astarion wasn’t blind to the irony of his decision. He had fought so hard to leave that wretched city behind only to go back to it now.
But in this moment, Baldur’s Gate seemed more of a safe haven than Waterdeep.
“Well, you look like shit.”
Despite the harsh but probably true criticism, the voice that greeted him was music to Astarion’s ears. As he stepped onto the docks of Baldur’s Gate a familiar face sporting long white hair pulled back into a high braided ponytail greeted him in a hug.
“Congratulations on magically sending a letter successfully.” There was a smirk on her features, all teasing and full of mirth.
“We haven’t seen each other in months and that’s how you decide to greet me? Darling, how did we ever grow apart?” Although his words were playing off of hers, he just didn’t have it in him to truly have playful banter with her right now. He was exhausted in more ways than one, hungry, exhausted, hot, aching, exhausted, upset, and did he mention exhausted?
He wouldn’t lie and say that seeing a friend at this moment didn’t feel good. It felt immensely great to be far away from Waterdeep and everything it held. Back on the ship, he had written a letter to Shadowheart, saying he would be in the city for a short time and was wondering if he could steal her guest room. He risked sending the letter to her through a spell that Gale had taught him and he had botched over and over again. It seemed like emotional distress really got his magical fingers going.
She rolled her eyes fondly. “Come, you must be tired from the journey. Let’s get you a bath to get all the fish smell off you. Then, we’re going to talk about why you’re here.”
“Can’t I just be visiting my dear friend Shadowheart?”
She gave a scoff of disbelief. “Without Gale? You two are practically attached to the hip. Besides, the dark circles around your eyes and the redness of your sclera tell me that you’re running from something, and I hope that my suspicions are incorrect.”
Astarion wished he could stay at the bottom of the tub. There was no sound here in the water, no one else but him. No worries, no expectations. He was safe here thanks to his lack of needing to breathe. He thought he had been safe with Gale and that the wizard had felt safe with him.
That thought got him rising back up to the real world, his little sanctuary ruined by a mere thought of the man. It seemed like no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get Gale out of his being. How could he? Gale had claimed his mind, his body, his soul, his undead heart.
He stepped out of the tub and dried himself off with a towel, putting on a simple but comfortable change of clothes he had brought with him. He didn’t bother trying to style his hair, finding that he just didn’t care. He padded into the living area, finding Shadowheart curled up in a corner of a plush sofa. She held a steaming cup of what smelled like some sort of tea in her hands. On the coffee table in front of her was another cup filled with a darker liquid that he could smell just from where he was standing – blood.
He grabbed the cup and sat on the opposite end of the sofa, facing her as he took a curious sip. “Is this your blood darling?” It smelled like her and tasted like what he had once imagined her to taste like.
“It is. I know it doesn’t taste as refined as your wizard’s, but it should be good enough.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Your blood is different, but delicious, nonetheless. Besides, I’m not particularly craving his taste right now.” His nose scrunched up of its own accord, and he took another sip of blood if only to forget how Gale’s blood tasted.
“So, this does have to do with Gale then. What happened?”
Astarion sniffed, a disgruntled expression on his face. “Why does it matter? Talking about it won’t change what happened.”
“No, but it can help you feel better. Besides, wouldn’t you want to hear what advice your dear old friend Shadowheart will have for you?”
The elf grumbled under his breath, wondering if staying with someone who loved gossip just as much as he was such a good idea anymore. Then again, it was rather tiring holding all this in. Perhaps the Selûnite had a point.
With a sigh, he put his pride aside and began to talk. “It all started a few weeks ago…”
“Gale? Dear, are you home?”
The tower was empty, or at least it appeared to be. There was not a sound as he stepped through the door of their home. Astarion had closed the shop early, hoping to get in some alone time with Gale whose classes had been cancelled for the day. Strange enough, the wizard was nowhere to be found within the tower.
Their bedroom was empty, the bed made and untouched. The kitchen was bare and the library even more so with not a book out of place or even a hint that someone had occupied the space. The office, alchemy room, even Astarion’s little workshop were all empty. There was no sign that Gale had been there.
“Strange,” he muttered to himself.
Realistically, the man could have gone out to the market or met up with a colleague or even went to visit Morena. The thing was that Gale wasn’t one to just leave without letting Astarion know. He either always left behind a cute little scribbled note detailing where he would be and when he would be back, or he left one of those projections of himself that scared the absolute shit out of Astarion every time.
Astarion didn’t make a big deal out of it. Perhaps Gale had just forgotten. He hadn’t been completely present lately with the new workload he had. Astarion would just check in with him later when he got back home.
Except when Gale got back, it was past midnight and Astarion had been feigning sleep.
Three days later, a similar thing happened again only this time Gale had come back at a decent hour. Astarion had been sitting in the dining room, sipping at some wine that he couldn’t taste when the wizard stepped through the door. Astarion knew something was off the instant Gale looked up and his eyes widened.
“Welcome home,” Astarion said, his voice sweet with a hint of malice in it. He knew Gale could see through the façade the moment the wizard winced.
“Astarion, my love, I wasn’t expecting to see you home this early,” was the mage’s reply.
The elf raised a brow, suspicion filling him instantly. That wasn’t a reply anyone wanted to hear from their partner. “And yet, here I am. How was your day?”
“Oh, rather uneventful.” Gale served himself a glass of red that Astarion was sipping at. Astarion took note that the wizard’s usual messenger bag wasn’t with him. Did he forget it back at the school? Unless he had gotten home earlier and left the bag here. He didn’t expect the kiss on his lips and sunk into it, forgetting for a moment Gale’s unusual behavior.
“Gods, I missed you,” Gale said in between kisses. “Do you know how much I want to ravage you right now?”
“What’s stopping you, darling?” Astarion asked, voice heady and wanting.
“I suppose nothing,” Gale said with a chuckle. “Allow me to freshen up first, love. I need to wash off the smell of old books, annoying colleagues, and anxiety ridden mages.” Gale gave him one last kiss before heading off to the bathroom. Once he was gone, Astarion wasted no time.
He made his way to Gale’s office, his feet light so as not to trigger any creaking wood beneath him. His heart sunk upon what he saw right away once he opened the door.
Gale’s messenger bag was on his desk.
A few more similar events like this occurred but for some reason, Astarion never had the courage to question Gale. He didn’t know why, but he never asked why the man would come home late or where he had really been. Perhaps it was because Astarion never smelled anyone else on him that he didn’t question him.
Or maybe he just didn’t want to find out the truth.
But one could only live in ignorant bliss for so long before the truth came out one way or another.
One fateful day, a day that Astarion had decided to take off to spend with Gale, everything shattered to pieces. The elf had been prettying himself up, not that he needed to do much, rubbing some perfume on his neck, wrists, thighs…wearing nothing but his underwear and one of Gale’s shirts which was way too big on him. When Gale walked into their bedroom and saw the elf, a look of longing crossed his expression. There was something else though, something akin to a deep excitement that didn’t come from lust.
“You seem in a rather joyous mood,” Astarion said, slinging his arms around Gale’s neck as the man wrapped his arms around his waist.
“I always am when I see you, but I will admit that I do have some rather exciting news.” He pecked Astarion’s lips before stepping back gently, suddenly looking a bit nervous. If it was such good news, why did Gale look that way? “But firstly, I must confess to something.”
And that’s where Astarion’s undead heart threatened to start again at the hint of fear that began to creep in. The way Gale said it, the hesitancy in his expression showed that his next words were not going to be easy ones for the elf to listen to. He suddenly wished that he weren’t here. He wished that they could continue this game of obliviousness that they had been playing. They could keep living in their little cozy bubble.
But how long would that bubble last until it popped? How long until Astarion lost his mind and began to hate Gale? As skilled of a liar as Astarion was, if there was one thing he hated it was dishonesty and the wizard had been that for the past two weeks. He didn’t want to hate Gale so maybe it was time for the truth.
“I’m listening.” He hated how unsure his words sounded, how they revealed his nerves.
If Astarion knew what Gale was going to say next, he would have never let the man speak.
“I’ve been to see Mystra.”
A beat, then two that turned into way too many. Astarion wasn’t sure what expression he wore but it was probably unnerving considering Gale’s next words.
“Now before you get mad-”
“Mad?” The theatrics were on but this time they were there to emphasize rather than mask his emotions. “Oh no darling, I’m not mad. I am absolutely livid. So that’s who you’ve been sneaking off to all these days.”
“Astarion please it’s not-”
“It’s not what Gale? What can you possibly say at this moment that will make all this go away? You chose her over me! Me! The one who has been nothing but here for you, who has loved you! I thought we were past you needing that manipulative bitch but it turns out I was wrong! You can’t refuse being her little lapdog.”
The hurt look in Gale’s eyes nearly made Astarion take back his words. Nearly.
“Astarion, I would never hurt you intentionally.”
“But you still did. And not only did you go see her, but you also lied to me about it.” He could feel the tears building up, but he would not cry. He would not let the people that hurt him see him cry.
“But Astarion-”
With a wave of his fingers, he cast one of the few spells Gale had taught him – Silence.
With a rush, he went to their shared wardrobe, put on some trousers and shoved some clothes into a bag. Gale grabbed his wrist gently, but Astarion shoved him aside. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”
He stomped his way down the stairs as fast as he could, hearing Gale begin to follow him. Once he was out the door, he slammed it and cast Invisibility on himself and began walking away with one goal in mind – to get away from Gale.
Shadowheart’s cup was raised halfway to her lips, the half-elf just blinking at him in disbelief. Astarion didn’t blame her. He could hardly still believe that Gale had gone back to his goddess.
“I know, I didn’t think he would return to her either. I thought we were happy. I thought we were good. Sure, we had been a little more occupied, but I didn’t think he would tire of me.”
Shadowheart shook her head. “I’m sorry that happened to you Astarion, truly I am but, what in the actual fuck?”
Astarion tilted his head to one side, clearly missing something. “Pardon?”
“Yes, what Gale did was wrong. He lied to you, he went to see Mystra and without telling you first, but you also didn’t talk to him about it.”
Astarion had to stop his jaw from dropping at the audacity of this woman. “Excuse me? What was there to talk about?”
“Well, for one you didn’t allow him to explain himself. Two, he did say he had good news before he confessed to seeing Mystra. Three, you don’t know what he meant by seeing her in the first place. Obviously all these things correlate with each other somehow.”
“Are you defending him?”
Shadowheart shook her head once again. “Trust me Astarion, I would be livid if I was in your shoes, but I also would have wanted to hear his reasoning behind his actions. Gale absolutely adores you. He wouldn’t trade you in for Mystra or anyone else for that matter. I thought you would have had more faith in him than that. He certainly holds more for you.”
Astarion set the cup down and crossed his arms, hating that she had a point, but it still didn’t make him any less hurt or angry. “If that is so true then where is he?! Why isn’t he here?!” He could feel the tears escaping his eyes and coating his cheeks. “Why isn’t he here?!” His body sagged into itself, and the sobs began to wrack his form. “Why?”
He felt the cushions shift beneath him as Shadowheart scooted next to him and held him in her arms. “Perhaps he is giving you space or more likely, he is looking for you.”
“The idiot can track me with magic.”
“True, but I don’t think he would invade your privacy that way. Even if it took a little longer, he would look for you the old-fashioned way.”
Damn it she was right. Gale had promised he would never use that spell on him. Gale had always respected his space, his boundaries. Even now, the man was still respecting them and it made something inside Astarion break.
“Do you really think he’s looking for me?”
Shadowheart’s reply was instantaneous. “I know it.” She petted his hair, seeming to consider something for a moment. Astarion could practically hear her thinking. It was a similarity she and Gale seemed to share. “He was here you know.”
That got Astarion to stiffen up in surprise and if he wasn’t so comfortable and tired, he probably would have pulled away from the woman to look at her in shock. “When?”
“Yesterday evening. He apparated here, no doubt used that teleportation circle of his. He was looking for you, asking if you had been here. Granted you weren’t here yet, I answered truthfully.”
“You didn’t tell him about my letter?”
“And betray your trust? You explicitly said in the letter to not tell him of your whereabouts.”
“Thank you,” the vampire said as he snuggled into her. “Was there anything else he said?”
“He said something along the lines of messing up hellishly and that he had to talk to you urgently, that he had to fix things. He looked frazzled, disheveled, worried beyond belief. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t usually describe the look of someone who swapped their loved one for another.”
“So, you’re saying you’re on his side?”
“I’m on the side that makes my friends happy. I’m on the side of love.”
Astarion wouldn’t say it out loud, but he liked that answer far more than if she would have sided with him. Then again, wouldn’t this keep being a worse problem if he thought of it as sides in a battle? Weren’t he and Gale supposed to be a team? But how was a team supposed to function when it was breaking apart?
“I miss him,” he mumbled sleepily. “I wish he were here.”
He wished it were Gale’s arms around him. He longed for his scent – sandalwood, lavender, a hint of vanilla, and something that just smelled like home. He wanted to bury himself in Gale’s never-ending warmth. He wanted to feel Gale cover him in comforting kisses that never failed to take away all his worries.
“I can send a letter to him, let him know you’re here,” Shadowheart said, her voice soft as if to not disturb the elf.
A part of Astarion wanted to let Gale suffer a bit more, let him stew in all that turmoil because he needed the man to know exactly how he felt. But then he remembered all the times he himself had hurt, and how Gale always seemed to take that pain on with him and suffered alongside him. So now, he could only imagine that Gale was suffering his own pain and Astarion’s.
Astarion loved him too much to let him suffer anymore. They both didn’t deserve all this hurt.
Astarion snuggled further into Shadowheart and closed his eyes, muttering, “Yes please,” before he gave in to sleep.
Astarion woke up to a rainy morning. The sound of rain pattering against the windows would have been soothing if he didn’t feel like absolute crap. He sat up, the blanket that had been placed over him falling to the side and he rubbed his face. He could feel how swollen his eyes were, no doubt puffy and red from the crying.
A knock on the door jolted him off the sofa and he cursed as he hit his knee on the edge of the coffee table. He grumbled as he made his way to the door. Honestly, how did someone lock themselves out of their own home? Then again, he was used to the tower recognizing him and locking itself through magic so he couldn’t relate.
He swung the door open, annoyed that his morning was already not to a great start. “Shadowheart I swear only you-” His words were cut off as he took in the soaking wet figure standing before him.
Gale.
The wizard’s hair was wet and plastered to the sides of his face. His clothes were soaked through and sticking to him like a second skin. He was surprisingly not wearing his robes, but a simple white half unbuttoned shirt and gray trousers. If Astarion were in the mood, he would tease Gale for looking like a dramatic male lead from a romance novel.
But right now, all the elf was focusing on was willing himself to stay still and not surge forward to hug the man.
Neither one of them said a word. Astarion remained rooted to his spot, stunned and Gale kept getting pelted by rain, his expression one of awe and shock. He noticed that Gale’s eyes were red, the dark circles around his eyes showing his lack of sleep. The man looked worse for wear but to Astarion he would always look beautiful.
“Astarion,” the mage said breathlessly and by the gods it was such a sweet sound. “Please, allow me to explain. I-”
“Shut up.”
Gale was taken aback, and his shoulders began to sag in defeat. “What?”
“Shut up and come inside. You’ll catch cold.” He didn’t say it unkindly and held the door open wider. Gale took a couple seconds to process the request before he was brushing past the elf inside the house. Astarion started a fire in the fireplace and wondered why Gale hadn’t used some sort of spell to dry himself off. Had he used up too much magic in getting here, or did he just not care in the moment?
Once the fire was bright and burning, Astarion stood by it, his way of getting the other man to get near the warmth without telling him. When Gale made his way over, standing a few feet across from him, the wizard let out a shaky sigh full of pain and sadness.
“I made a great mistake and hurt you in the process. I broke your trust and took it for granted. I should have told you of my intentions before even acting on them, before all the hiding and lying. It didn’t matter the reasoning behind it. What matters is that I did it and it hurt you deeply.” Gale lifted his hand as if to reach out but thought better of it, letting it fall back down. “Know that I did not mean to hurt you. I did not mean to cause you all this pain, Astarion. I love you far too much to ever do that to you intentionally.”
Astarion’s lips trembled as he tried to get his words out. Gale’s words were honest and so full of emotion as they usually were. His expression was so transparent, his eyes glistening with tears, and he had to wonder if the streaks on his cheeks were from the rain or from crying.
And when Astarion finally got some words out, he was choking back tears. “You hurt me so much, Gale.”
Gale nodded solemnly. “I know I did.”
“I thought you had tired of me and went back to her.” Gale opened his mouth to speak, his expression full of shock and horror, but Astarion held a hand up to stop him. “I thought this at first but then our dear friend Shadowheart made me see some sense. Still, it didn’t change the fact that you still went to see her for reasons I do not know and reasons I don’t think would excuse what you did.” At this point, he didn’t care that his tears were falling. He felt too much right now to hold anything back. “And yet, no matter how much you hurt me, you know what hurt me most? That you weren’t here to comfort me.” A disbelieving laugh left his lips. “Isn’t that ridiculous? I wanted you to comfort me because you had hurt me, because I missed you. Even right now as you stand before me, I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” Gale chanced a step forward. Astarion didn’t move. “Astarion, from the bottom of my heart, from the depths of my very soul, I am truly sorry for hurting you, for lying to you, for even daring to see her.”
“Then why did you do it?”
Gale seemed to shrink in on himself. Despite being a bit taller than Astarion, in this moment he looked small. “Know that my reasons for seeing her, for all this secrecy are not excuses for all the hurt that I caused. What I did was wrong, and I am not excusing myself.”
“Gale, please just tell me. You owe me at least that.”
“That and more,” the wizard said with a nod. “The first time I spoke with Mystra, I did not seek her out. She came to me in a dream, something she rarely does, and I can only assume she did so because she knew I would not willingly seek an audience with her at her temple.”
“And why did she seek you out?” Astarion was trying so very hard to keep the vitriol out of his voice because how dare that stupid bitch seek out his wizard again? How dare she?!
“A very powerful relic resurfaced in Waterdeep. She needed me to find it and return it to her before it got into the wrong hands.”
“And why didn’t you refuse?”
“I did. I couldn’t understand how she had the gall to even contact me again. Then again, the gods never seem to care about that do they? I refused to do her bidding. I told her to have one of her devout followers do it, but apparently there was no one else she trusted that would be up to the task.”
Astarion snorted. “So, she said a few words to boost your ego, and you said yes?”
Gale shook his head. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Oh, this was rich. Astarion’s lips formed a dark sinister smirk, one that his enemies usually saw before he ended their lives. “And just what was this offer that you couldn’t refuse?”
Gale produced a scroll from his bag of holding that Astarion barely realized he had on. He held it out to Astarion and after a beat, the elf took it. There was something strange about it. It felt different, almost ethereal and it looked pristine, as if the paper itself was made of ivory. He unfurled it, seeing strange runes on the paper, obviously some sort of ancient language.
“It’s the language of the gods,” Gale explained.
Of course it was. “And? What does it say? What could this piece of paper say that was worth doing her bidding?”
“It’s a ritual, one to cure vampirism.”
Astarion stilled, his eyes going wide. “What? There’s no such thing, no possible way.”
“There is when the Goddess of Magic is desperate. When she offered it in exchange for the return of the relic, there was no way I could turn down the offer. I had been trying and failing at each attempt at creating or finding a cure for you so when she presented me with the chance to finally have it, I took it.”
Astarion couldn’t stop staring at the scroll, at the paper that held the answer to his problems, to a freedom he had missed dearly. Gale had seen the goddess that had caused him so much pain and trauma, that had abandoned him when he needed her most; he had subjected himself to the pain of seeing his abuser all for Astarion.
“You did this for me?” Astarion’s voice was nearly a whisper, his hands shaking and his tears blurring his vision.
“Yes, my love. I would do anything for you.”
And wasn’t that the truth? All Gale ever did was for Astarion. He should have known from the beginning. How could he have thought Gale would ever do anything to hurt him on purpose? it made him feel horrible for ever doubting the man.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for not telling you. In truth, my reasons for not telling you are selfish, one more than the other. I knew that if I told you, you would tell me it wasn’t worth it. you would stop me from pursuing the matter. And the second reason, well, I had wanted to surprise you.” Gale’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
Astarion didn’t care because in that moment he was sobbing, his tears falling fast and his breaths coming out so fast he began to hiccup. He felt Gale step closer, but the man still didn’t touch him and gods this man was just too good. The elf dropped the scroll and grasped onto the man’s shirt, burying his face in his chest. Gale didn’t hesitate to bundle the elf up in his arms as if fearing he would disappear at any moment. The wizard kept murmuring apologies into Astarion’s curls, and the elf found it quite unfair.
“I’m sorry,” Astarion said in between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever for, love? You have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I do. I doubted you. I doubted your love, your loyalty. What kind of lover am I if I think those things about you? I didn’t even let you explain! I just left like a child with a temper tantrum!”
Gale pulled back slightly if only to look at Astarion’s face. “I don’t blame you for your reaction. You were deeply hurt by my carelessness.”
“It wasn’t carelessness Gale. You put yourself through her for my sake. You’re always doing so much for me and I so little.”
Gale’s expression morphed from sadness to frustration, but it wasn’t directed at the elf, more so it was directed at the words he had said. “Astarion, you do so much more than you know. You saved me and continue to do that every single day. You’ve shown me what it is to truly be loved and cared for. You make the cloudiest of days brighter and the coldest of winters warmer. You’ve given me the one thing I had desired my entire life, to be loved unconditionally. You are my entire world, and I would rather the gods smite me where I stand than give you up.”
Gale had barely finished his last sentence before Astarion surged up and claimed his lips. It was a kiss that said I love you; I adore you; I need you; I want you.
“I’m sorry,” Astarion said in between kisses.
“I’m sorry,” Gale replied.
They went back and forth, kissing and apologizing as if they were trying to justify who had to apologize more. At some point, it became rather silly, and they broke into laughter.
“My love, I must point out that my apology comes with that cure so…”
“Ah, but you see my apology comes with something far better.” Astarion trailed a finger along the exposed part of Gale’s chest. “My appreciation.”
Gale clicked his tongue. “I suppose you win after all.”
Astarion smiled up at him, leaning up to kiss his wizard again when Shadowheart came stomping down the stairs. “Finally! I was worried you two would drag this out longer than necessary.”
“Were you listening in on us?” Gale asked sounding a bit peeved.
“It’s hard to not hear you two when you’re right below my room,” she replied, unaffected by Gale’s tone. “I assume you two will be wanting to leave shortly to make use of that cure.”
Astarion picked up the scroll, holding it so carefully as if it might shatter by his mere touch. “That does sound like a delightful idea.”
Gale made a pained expression. “Unfortunately, I have exhausted my magic these past days to the point where I am quite literally drained of it at the moment.”
Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And lucky for you I just so happen to have my own teleportation circle, not to mention I’ve visited your tower before, so I know where to send you two.”
As Shadowheart took them to a room upstairs where said teleportation circle was, both men thanked her profusely. She shrugged it off but accepted their hugs and kisses on the cheek before she sent them off. Astarion made her promise that they would do something together soon to try out his mortal form like sunbathing or something along similar lines.
When the two apparated back in Waterdeep just outside their tower, Astarion couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him. They didn’t waste time basking in the relief though because Gale was pulling him along through the tower and into the library. The man wasted no time in moving the couch, chairs, and other furniture to the side. He then drew a large circle on the wood floor with chalk and then a star with eight points – Mystra’s symbol.
Astarion made a face when Gale instructed him to sit in the middle. “This ritual will be using a large amount of the Weave,” he said as explanation for having that horrid symbol drawn on their floor.
The elf did as he was told, folding his legs underneath him so he was on his knees. Gale was looking at him, checking to see if he was good to continue. The elf nodded.
“I need you to relax and just hold onto my voice, alright?”
Astarion nodded once again and shortly after, Gale began reciting the scroll. His voice was strong, booming, and all powerful as it usually was when he cast spells. It wasn’t difficult to keep his attention on it – that was until he felt something stirring inside him.
It felt like a sharp tingle at first that began in his center but quickly became a sharp stinging, no, burning pain that spread throughout him like tendrils. If he could describe it, he would say it felt like fire was surging through his insides trying to find a way out.
And maybe that was what was happening. Maybe his vampirism was manifesting itself into something physical in order to leave his body. But what then? What if Mystra played Gale? What if he would be cured only by being a completely dead corpse? She never did say Astarion would be a live mortal, did she?
Panic began to creep into his mind and the pain did not allow him to scream. He could vaguely hear Gale still speaking and he closed his eyes to try and concentrate on his voice more properly. Gods, Gale. His love, his everything. If this worked, Astarion was going to make love to him until his mortal body gave out and Gale was seeing nothing but stars.
Then, Astarion felt the telltale essence of the Weave surrounding him, no, filling him. He smelled the rosewater, he felt that strange safety that he had experienced when Gale first taught him to summon the Weave. This was Mystra and she was giving Astarion’s body life once more. Then again, Gale had done that far before she did. She may be bringing his body back from its undead state, but Gale would forever continue to make him feel alive. It was with that thought that he felt the Weave pull back from him and he had to wonder if something went wrong.
“Astarion, are you alright?” Gale asked, concern laced in his voice.
The elf opened his eyes, disappointed and confused as to why the ritual hadn’t worked. He still felt the same. “Yes, but I don’t understand. Why didn’t it work?”
Gale gasped and Astarion suddenly felt fearful. Did the ritual do something to him? Was this a sick trick that Mystra had created and she had turned him into some disgusting creature? He looked down to see his hands still looked the same. He reached up and patted his face in alarm, trying to find some sort of irregularity or abnormality that wasn’t there before.
“Astarion, my love,” Gale said, his voice soft and gentle. “Look.”
Next thing Astarion knew was that he was looking back at a man, a beautiful man with silver curls, eyes that sported a green that reminded him of green apples, a mouth that had asymmetrical upper lips…
It was a mirror. Astarion was looking into a mirror. He was seeing himself.
“Oh my-” He took the mirror, holding it in his hands as he just looked in awe at his own reflection. Not only did he have a reflection, but his eyes were no longer red. “It worked.”
“It did.” Gale sounded just as breathless as he was and when Astarion looked up to meet the man’s eyes, the look of adoration on his face practically made the elf blush.
No, wait, he was actually blushing, furiously if the heat he felt in his face was anything to go by. Now that he thought about it, his entire body felt warm. His skin had some color to it, a healthy color. Despite all this proof, there was one thing that he had to do that would let him know for absolute certain that this worked completely.
He ran to the nearest window, pulled back the curtains, and let the sunlight hit his skin. There was no burning, no pain, no skin cracking. There was only warmth.
He laughed and laughed until his laughs became sobs and Gale was holding him close. In Gale’s arms, he realized how much his life was going to change with the things he would be able to do but also with the responsibilities he had in taking care of his mortal body now. It had been so long since he last had to eat food, drink water, sleep more than a handful of hours each night. Did he even remember how food tasted? He would finally be able to taste Gale’s food now! He briefly wondered if Gale would taste different…
“Thank you,” Astarion managed to get out, placing a kiss on Gale’s lips. “Thank you so much, my sweet.”
“No need to thank me. It’s the least I could do to earn your forgiveness.”
“Well, consider yourself forgiven. Although…” Astarion’s hands trailed under Gale’s shirt and up his chest. “I’m still not finished with my apology. Besides, I do believe we need to break this mortal body in. Wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”
“If it will get us on equal footing, then I will gladly offer myself up to your cause, my heart,” the wizard played along.
Astarion let out a yelp as Gale lifted him up from his thighs, wrapping his legs around the wizard and letting out a laugh. He attacked Gale’s mouth, jaw, neck, and any skin he could reach with kisses. When they had reached the bedroom and discarded their clothing, Gale had told him that the scars on his back had disappeared.
Damn it. Astarion wouldn’t thank the bitch, but he would at least stop vandalizing her temple and shrines…well, a little less at least.
Astarion didn’t know how long they went at it, how many times they came, how many times they worshipped each other and fell apart under the other’s guileful hands. The only reason they even put an eventual stop to it was because Astarion’s new mortal body hadn’t built up the stamina for even longer love making sessions. Hells, he had learned that he would have to retrain his gag reflex but those were easy fixes that would come with time and practice.
As he lay on Gale’s chest, playing with the thick hairs there, he couldn’t help but recall the fear he had felt when he thought he was losing Gale. To think they could have lost this bliss from something as simple as miscommunication, or lack thereof. This couldn’t happen again. He wouldn’t let it happen again.
“Let’s promise to never fight like this again,” he said as he pressed a kiss to Gale’s chest. “I don’t think my heart could bear it and I can say that now because it beats.”
Gale chuckled, the sound and vibrations from it travelling through Astarion. “I’ll do you one better. Let’s promise to communicate more and in an effective manner. No matter how angry we are, how distressed we might be, we must make an effort to communicate.”
“That is a promise I can get behind.”
“Then it’s settled.” He placed a kiss on Astarion’s curls. “Speaking of communication, we should start managing our time better. We have busy work schedules as of late but now that you are able to go out in the sun, it might be easier to work around both our schedules. Oh! We should really plan date nights every week now that I think about it, or even date days since that is an option now too. Oh, there is this wonderful garden near the river that looks absolutely stunning in the daylight that I’ve been wanting to show you. We can also take morning strolls now. There’s a particular path in the woods that I do so enjoy and would love to show you, not to mention there’s also-”
Astarion smiled as he continued to listen to Gale’s rambling, no not rambling, planning. Planning for their new (or perhaps slightly altered would be a better description) future. If Astarion didn’t know any better, he would think Gale was more excited than him. It was endearing and only made Astarion’s heart jump with more excitement if only because doing these things with the wizard would make him happy too.
When he snuggled further into Gale and the man pulled him impossibly closer to him, Astarion felt that safety again, that sense of home, and knew they would be alright. Whatever would come their way, whatever struggles or obstacles tried to come and break them apart again, they would be ready this time.
Because just like Gale, Astarion would be damned if he would let them break apart so easily.