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The camp was alive tonight. It was a beating heart, veins flowing with laughter and singing and drink. There were tieflings of all ages celebrating for no greater reason than that, for this night, they were alive. And honoring the stewards of this camp as their heroes in their hour of need.
Amidst all the differences that marked the night as special, there were still some things that remained constant. One such thing was Gale struggling to tear his eyes away from Inixi.
He had maintained a healthy denial over his infatuation with the fellow wizard for some time, even in the face of goading by the combined efforts of Aaralyn and Astarion. However, that resolve crumbled the moment he had brought Inixi into the weave. There, Gale had seen her desires and had been shocked to discover himself at the forefront of them. Shocked, but…thrilled. She hadn't seen it in her embarrassment, but the rush of euphoria that had coursed through him had shredded his remaining denial to ribbons. Now, blinders stripped, it was as clear to him as it had been to everyone else that he was harboring his own desires towards her.
What he didn't know was what a man with an orb in his chest and a worm in his skull did with that information.
After many sleepless nights, he still had no answers, which made it somewhat tortuous to watch her like this. Yet, at the same time he could not look away.
While this celebration was for everyone, it was impossible to ignore that Inixi was the center of attention tonight. It made sense: she was the one who had spoken to these refugees, listened to them, learned to call them by name. She was both a tiefling and a hero, one of their own, half person and half symbol of brighter things to come. She stood out amidst the other tieflings with her periwinkle toned skin and amethyst colored horns, and she would have been easy to find again if Gale ever had the good sense to look away. He knew he was staring, but once a healthy dose of wine had been splashed over his consciousness, he didn't see the point of pretending otherwise.
At present, the music was culminating in a series of group dances led by some of the older tieflings. It seemed as if the group at large were familiar with the steps, but, thanks to their own heavy-handed wine pours, they were incapable of getting through the entirety of the song without dissolving into laughter over a misstep. It was admittedly a sweet picture, even if Gale was struggling to focus on anything outside of Inixi’s aura. Her current partner was a little boy, the same one they had saved from the harpies, Gale now realized. Mirkon, he recalled. The curly-haired boy was a world away from the frightened child that Inixi had dragged from the water’s edge as the angry creatures descended in screams and song. Now, he looked enchanted, growing shy every time Inixi grabbed up his hands to keep up with the dance. It was a malady that Gale could sympathize with.
The song ended, and Inixi insisted she needed a break. Even from a distance, Gale could hear their guests’ protest and urge her to stay another dance. But she excused herself magnanimously before grabbing her waterskin and making a direct line to where Gale stood.
“Hello there,” she grinned before taking a drink. Judging by the purple toned flush in her cheeks and the easiness of her voice, it was not water in that waterskin.
Gale smiled. “Hello.” He tipped his wine cup to her, “Escaping your adoring public, I see.”
Inixi shrugged. She was slightly winded from her spirited dance, but somehow it only enhanced the things about her Gale found most alluring. Her eyes, one blue and one green, shone in the firelight. The smattering of dark blue freckles across her nose and cheeks stood out against her glow. And there was the small matter that she was wearing little more than a brassiere and trousers that clung to her like a second skin.
“You know,” she spoke just in time to keep Gale’s eyes from wandering down from her face, “what's more fun than watching people dance?” Her eyebrows wagged playfully. “Actually dancing.”
Gale chuckled, looking down into his wine. “Ah, well, I'm sure that's true. But I think I may have had too much wine for dance, and, ah…” he looked askance at the people around him, “everyone else hasn't drunk enough to witness it.”
That made her smile, even as she studied him intently. Finally, she tipped her head to one side, her ram-like horn nearly touching her shoulder. “Not even if I asked?”
Gale immediately launched into flustered stammering, somewhat taken aback. She was flirting with him. It wasn't shocking in itself, gods knew they had been doing their own particular brand of dancing around the subject, but Gale found he was utterly unprepared for this direct approach. Hearing her unguarded directness almost knocked him off his feet.
“Oh. Ah. Well.” He stammered before looking away, knowing it would do nothing to hide the blush creeping down his neck, “You…drive a hard bargain, but…” he glanced past her at the enthusiastic dancers, “I wouldn't want to slow you down.”
There was a flicker of disappointment across her face that filled him with instant regret. He wanted to launch into an explanation, or rather excuses, but couldn't quite find the words. Why hadn't he just agreed to dance? What was wrong with him? He could hardly think straight as she was watching him intently, emboldened by the wine.
“You know,” Inixi said suddenly, “Aaralyn suggested I sleep with one of these strangers tonight. Or at least snog them. Said she would kick my ass if I didn't.”
Gale bristled, irritated at Aaralyn’s implication in absentia. “Did she?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Well, that…sounds like her.” He peered at Inixi, outlined by the fire. “And what have you decided?”
She gave him a pointed look. “I don't know yet.”
Gale nodded, both relieved and anxious by this development. He supposed he deserved that. His gaze kept darting between the ground and her face, as if trying to ease himself into looking directly into the sun. “Well, personally, I would hesitate to take any romantic advice from Aaralyn. Anyone who feels comfortable sleeping with their back to Astarion has demons I can't conceptualize.”
Inixi seemed amused by this. Coyly, she stepped next to him and turned around so that they were facing the camp in a two-man line. “So you weren't thinking about wooing one of these ladies with an in-depth explanation of your Hundur sauce recipe?”
He looked at her aghast. “What, and release that much sexual allure into the open air?” Inixi started to giggle, only encouraging him. “I'll have you know, many a woman has tried to seduce me for that recipe. It's imperative that I stay vigilant.”
She laughed then, a full throw-her-head-back-to-the-sky laugh. Gale felt the prickling of his pulse skipping under his skin. That laugh would be his downfall; he would follow it to the bitter end.
“Anyway,” he continued, forcing himself to look away, “I'm not sure a stranger would find me a satisfying companion for a night. With my, ah, condition–” he tapped his index and middle finger over the orb etched in his chest, “--any sort of…excitement, let's say, might, ah…pose a problem.”
Inixi grew very still at this. “You never mentioned that.”
“I didn't?” Gale could see her processing the information, connecting dots that he hadn't known he left undone. The wizard cleared his throat, “I suppose I took it for granted. But, yes, the orb is extremely volatile in relation to my heart. To be honest, my chest hurt for a week after we trudged uphill through that swamp.” He laughed at himself derisively but Inixi didn't join the laugh this time. She was too deep in her wine-colored thoughts.
Gale cleared his throat once more. “Besides,” he made a show of looking around the crowd, “none of these strangers are really my type.”
That seemed to shake her from her reverie. “Oh?” Inixi’s voice returned to playful brightness, “And what's ‘your type’? On the mortal side, I mean.”
Gale considered. As Inixi brought her drink to her lips, he murmured conspiratorially, “Frankly, I've always been partial to the cooler side of the color spectrum.”
The answer clearly took her by surprise as Inixi choked on the wine from her waterskin. In a second, she was doubled over, coughing and sputtering.
Gale felt some satisfaction, in spite of her momentary distress. “My goodness–”
“Shit–”
“--That was very delicate.”
“-- uch, I think it came out my nose.”
“Exquisitely lady-like.”
Inixi reached out to hit him from her doubled over position. He accepted the glancing blow with a laugh before taking pity and patting her between the shoulders. It took her a moment to clear her airways of wine. “Gods, that burns like the infernal hells,” she groaned, running her arm across her face.
“On the bright side, after a display like that, you'll have your pick of gentlemen.”
She scoffed and shoved him gently as she straightened, relocating her hands to her hips as their giggling melted into quiet. It was incredible how the party could be so noisy and yet sound miles away as he looked at her. She met his gaze.
Before Gale could stop himself, he heard his voice asking quietly, “Can I see you later tonight?”
Her chest rose but did not fall, her breath caught and held. “Gale…”
“I know I have no right to ask,” he smiled, even as his heart thudded noisily. “I'm sure I've tested your patience enough, and if you wanted to follow Aaralyn’s advice no one would blame you in the least. But…I have to ask.”
Inixi stared at him. She was never particularly good at hiding her emotions, but those drinks had laid her even more bare than usual. Her eyes closed briefly, and Gale was prepared for rejection when she said, “Of course I'll…yes. Of course.”
Gale felt twin waves of joy and relief crash through him. He tried to keep it contained, not wanting to seem like an over-excited school boy, but there was only so much he could do about the smile on his lips. “All right,” he nodded to her.
Inixi cleared her throat, looking down at her shuffling feet in the dirt. “So– later,” she confirmed, backing away and gesturing over her shoulder, “I'm going to…just step away, but…later.”
“Later,” he promised.
Her eyes met his just briefly before she turned on her heels and walked away. Gale watched a moment before his focus went back in the direction of the fire. He dumped out what was left in his wine cup. It was perhaps too late to stay completely sharp as the alcohol zipped pleasantly through him, but he wasn't about to do anything that might further compromise this night.
Inixi was not quiet as she crashed through the underbrush away from camp. She was moving fast, trying her best to outrun her reeling thoughts. It was so like Gale to leave her spinning, and this time there was nowhere for her drunken mind to catch foothold.
Still, when she nearly ran headlong into Wyll, it seemed unrealistic for him to look as surprised as he did.
Inixi stopped herself just in time. “Wyll!” She gasped. “Gods– where'd you come from?”
He looked at her, amused. “I was the one standing here; you leapt out at me.” He looked searchingly over her head as if expecting to see someone chasing her. “What sent you out here?”
The tiefling was slightly winded from her jaunt, and spoke between breaths, “Oh, you know…just…running away from my emotions.” She put her hands on her hips and looked around herself, half expecting to see company. There was none; apparently, Wyll had been standing out here alone, cradling a drink. “This would seem to be the spot for it, huh?” Inixi said, giving him a suspicious look.
Wyll looked sheepish. “I'm not running away. I just…wasn't in the party mood. I didn't want to bring anyone else down.”
For a second, Inixi forgot to worry about herself, latching onto someone else’s problems. “What's wrong?”
“Shouldn’t I ask you the same?”
“I asked first.”
Wyll chuckled and shook his head. But he wasn't nearly as reticent to speak plainly as the other gentlemen in the camp, and admitted, “I'm having trouble watching these people be so happy.” He once again looked over Inixi’s head towards the party. “Their troubles are so far from over. There is so much joy tonight, but…what if there is only despair tomorrow?”
Inixi dropped her hands from her hips, brow furrowing. “We don't know that,” she offered.
Wyll smiled sadly before looking down at his drink. “Maybe not…but it would be safe to assume. Nothing is easy these days.” He shook his head slightly. “I just kept looking around and feeling as if…this might just be premature.”
She took a moment to reflect on his words, turning to look back in the direction she had come from. Even the trees could not drown out the sounds of music and laughter. Inixi pivoted back to the Blade of the Frontiers, finding that this distracted sadness did not suit him.
“Well…maybe it will go horribly,” she offered. “Maybe tomorrow, they'll set off to Baldur’s Gate and…I don't know, a dragon will land on half of them to burn the other half.”
He shot her a wary look. “I assume there's a bright side buried in here somewhere…”
“The point is,” Inixi smiled, “we don't know. They don't know. But they're alive tonight– alive and together. Maybe tomorrow will be terrible, but…wouldn't it be worse if they didn't get to enjoy tonight?”
Wyll was quiet as he considered, though his silent head nods made Inixi feel certain her point had landed. He took a sip of his drink before giving her a pointed look. “Perhaps this is advice you should take for yourself, hm?”
She blinked, swallowing thickly. “What?”
“I mean, I can't say I know exactly which emotions you're running from,” he shrugged one shoulder, “but…maybe you need to hear what you just said yourself?”
Inixi tried to find an argument, digging through her mind to find a way he was wrong. None was found. She sighed, “Gods damn it, Wyll.”
“I'm just suggesting–”
“I hate it when you're right.”
He laughed in surprise. “Why is that?”
“It just feels wrong.”
Wyll laughed more heartily then, and Inixi joined in. When they settled down, Inixi hooked her fingers around the curl of her horn, tugging on it thoughtfully. “Fine, I guess I'll stop running and…think about that.”
“Worth a shot, I say.”
“Thanks, Wyll.”
He extended out one arm and Inixi stepped into it, exchanging a sweet hug. Once they released, Inixi started off to continue her path deeper into the woods. Only a few feet away, however, she stopped and looked back. “Hey, Wyll, whenever you finish sulking–”
“I'm not sulking.”
“--maybe you can go spend some time with Karlach?” She offered a small smile. “I think she's feeling a bit down about not being able to touch anyone. Maybe you two can cheer each other up.”
Wyll looked somewhat surprised, and Inixi almost thought she could detect a flush in his cheeks in the darkness. “I…suppose that wouldn't be a bad idea. Might be nice, actually.” He nodded to Inixi. “Thanks, Inixi.”
Inixi nodded back to him and offered an informal salute before turning to slip into the darkness. This time, she went more quietly.
Inixi had not returned to camp after their encounter, but it was not hard for Gale to guess where she was.
As he walked up the hill, the party in the camp had died down to a dull roar. There was still some chatter, but most of the tieflings had either settled in for the night or had slipped into the darkness with someone they wanted to experience alone. The dance music was gone, though a lone bard was continuing to play. The melody was beautiful, if a bit haunting, following Gale dreamily through the night.
At the top of the hill was the damaged structure of what had once been a house. Though close to camp, it was private even with its stone walls partially crumbled and fallen away. Gale walked through the doorway. Thanks to the rigors of time, the arch was more of a formality than an entrance, but Gale still used it habitually before peering around the corner.
She was there, just as he had guessed. Inixi was posed in what had once been a window, sitting on the sill with her back against one side of the frame and her foot braced against the opposite side. At first, she didn't even notice him, her eyes turned away and up to the stars. Gale watched her for a second as she sat, her tail swishing lazily through the grass that had overtaken what had once been the building’s foundation. At some point, he had started smiling, but he wasn't sure when.
He composed himself, clasping his hands behind his back before clearing his throat. Inixi looked over, off-guard yet not surprised.
“Oh. Hi,” she greeted, swinging her leg from the window to face him.
“Hello,” Gale replied, easily falling back into a smile. “I thought you might be here.”
“Really?”
“I…know you like to watch the stars.” He gestured to the sky, only registering that he might feel sheepish about admitting this as the sentence ended.
Inixi’s eyes followed his gesture, seeming intrigued that he knew this. “I guess I do.” She considered, smiling even as her voice edged with melancholy, “They're a constant. When I was a child, I could always find the same clusters of stars, no matter where I was or where I had to sleep for the night.” Her chin tilted upward. “When you grow up like that…you remember the things that stayed the same for you. And even now, in the midst of mindflayers and everything…they stay the same.”
As challenging as it was to look away from her, Gale found himself compelled to look up as well. It was a clear night, and the sky was a spectacle on par with the party it had just watched over. Not an inky blackness, but a watercolor of navy blues and royal purples melting together and flecked with a million stars.
“I used to not like the stars,” he confessed, craning his neck from side to side to get the full picture. “I thought they seemed so cold and distant…they reminded me of how small I was. How insignificant.”
“What changed your mind?”
When his gaze dropped, Inixi was already peering at him curiously. “Part of it was experiencing the Weave, I suppose.” He smiled, “It felt as though I were standing right in the midst of the stars, and I saw them as…warm, inviting. Breaking up the darkness around them. As you saw as well, of course.”
The mention of their shared time in the weave made Inixi duck her head, and Gale could only imagine the purple flush against her cheeks. She cleared her throat and said, “You said ‘part’ was the Weave. What was the other part?”
His mouth opened and closed silently, as though his words were glued to the roof of his mouth. By the time she looked up, he had managed to get them unstuck and say, “Well, you, I suppose.”
Her expression flickered from shock to shyness to dubiousness. “I think your poetic side might be getting away with you,” she gave a short laugh. “You haven't known me all that long, in spite of how it feels.”
Light furrows lined Gale’s brow. “No, but…in a relatively short time, you've already changed how I see a great many things. Like…wizardry, and heroism, and…being alive. Not small things, mind you. And now when I look at the stars–” he did so, “--I think of you looking at them, finding your joy and comfort there. And then…I can do the same.”
He looked down to see her staring at him. She almost looked pained, but he could see in it now a reflection of his own longing. He felt like an animal testing the strength of a tether and finding it had room to give. Gale crossed the remaining space to stand over her. “Inixi, you know - surely now you must know - the way I feel about you,” he claimed, surprised to hear his voice barely crest above a whisper.
She stared up at him, eyes wide with wonder and appearing to reflect back all the stars and the moon above them. “I…had a suspicion,” she whispered in return.
Gale let out a short laugh, both taken off guard by the answer and relieved to have it out in the air. “That's…that's good to know.” He glanced down. “I don't expect you to say anything or–”
“I feel the same.” She interrupted him forcefully, without a hint of reserve. It could have knocked Gale to his knees. “I mean…you saw,” she ventured. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down into her upturned face.
“Alright,” he managed to say, “That’s– that’s settled, then.” He wanted so badly to kiss her, right there and then. Kiss her the way she had envisioned in the Weave and the way he had dreamed of ever since. It was only the near ever-present dull roar in his chest, echoing outward from the orb, that kept him in check.
So Gale peeled himself away from her. It was the opposite of what his every instinct was screaming to do, but that was why he had to do it. He only made it a step or two away before being stopped by her gravitational pull.
“Normally,” he continued, “the next part would be uncomplicated but…that doesn't seem to be a thing we get to experience anymore.” He ran a hand back through his long hair, surprised by the anxiety zipping through his body. “I…I have been a man without a future for some time now–”
“Gale–”
“-- and I have nothing to offer. I can't promise you so far as tomorrow. Not to mention, I can't even express how I feel in a-a physical- a tangible way. Not without putting you and everyone else in danger.” For some time, Gale had run the gambit of emotions towards his unwelcome chest dweller: anger, self-pity, begrudging acceptance. But right now, he just felt hopeless. Standing here, toothless and gutless, in front of someone he wanted to give the world to and knowing it would be risky to do much as touch her. It made him almost dizzy with regret.
At some point, Inixi had gotten to her feet. She reached out to lay ber palm flat against Gale’s chest over his heart. “Gale,” she repeated, “It's alright. Breathe.”
Oddly, in spite of the near-constant charge between them, the touch did have a soothing effect. If for no other reason, it was a reminder to Gale that he was not as fragile as he currently felt, not quite as easy to send to (literal) pieces. So he did as instructed, focusing on breathing on through his nose and out through his mouth, measured and intentional.
As he breathed, Inixi said quietly, “You know none of us are in any position to give promises, right?”
Gale laughed mirthlessly. “Well, I hate to be pedantic–”
“That's definitely not true.”
“--but,” he continued between a more genuine laugh, “I do have the distinction of having two world and life ending afflictions currently in my person.”
“Show off.”
In spite of the subject matter, Gale grinned at her. “What can I say? I've never been one to do things by halves.”
She smiled back, her crooked grin only serving to remind him of everything he adored about her. After he had been cast from Mystra’s side, Gale had bitterly hated all the mortal trappings around him, seeing only their faults and imperfections. Now, he could only wonder how much life he would have missed out on if not for that day. A gift from the orb to soften the many curses.
Inixi’s eyes drifted from his face to look at her own hand, almost seeming surprised to find it still pressed to his chest. “Well,” she started quietly, “Let’s say tomorrow comes and…we all turn into mindflayers and then you explode us all.”
Gale frowned. “Must we say that?”
“If that happened,” she continued determinedly, “I think I would be happy knowing that I spent my last night in the world here. Just like this.” Her courage seemed to falter as she shrugged self-consciously. “Even now…I can't make myself regret it.”
Gale absorbed this, his face unusually serious. Inixi waited for any sort of response, her hand lifting slightly from his chest, unsure of what would come next.
Finally the wizard let out a heavy exhale and said, “Then I suppose I won't leave any regrets, either.” Somewhere in the middle of those words, that mental tether he had felt earlier crumbled to pieces. Her eyes met his for only a second when his hand brushed the side of her face. Then his grip landed at the curve where her head met her neck, and his thumb guided her jaw upwards as his lips lowered to hers.
For a split second, the entire world narrowed down to the pinpoint of where their lips met. He could taste the wine on her tongue, feel her sharp intake of breath rush from his lungs and into hers. And while the orb remained contained, he could swear the world had exploded into light and color around them.
If Inixi was at all surprised by the kiss, her body did not show it. Immediately, she was shaping to him, molding the arch of her back to his lean into her. Gale’s free hand slid across the bare skin of her waist to her lower back, his fingertips splayed up and down her spine. He started to pull back, just slightly, to catch his breath and assess that he hadn't gone up in sparks, but this plan was quickly vetoed. Inixi surged to her toes, her arms flinging around his neck. He was only too happy to pivot to her wishes.
They shifted slightly together so that Inixi’s body was pinned between him and one of the freestanding walls. Inixi breathed in sharply and it was as if all the carefully maintained restraint Gale had nurtured had vanished. He could only feel, smell, taste, sense her, and the intensity of their locked position only grew. Inixi’s hand slid under the edge of his tunic, nails against his naked chest beneath, while his own wandering hands palmed her hips, her chest…
And as suddenly it had began, it ended with a white hot pain that roared through his entire body. Gale was somewhat aware of stumbling back and hearing his name cried out, but then there was only whiteness clouding his vision and a high pitched tone in his ears.
Idiot. He had let himself get carried away. He had given into what he wanted as though the consequences could have been so easily avoided. His entire body ached and strained with magic energy that bucked against his insides like a wild horse.
Though his body seemed far away from his mind, Gale was vaguely aware of something being shoved into his hand. Suddenly, flowing from that point, there was magic washing over him, like a cooling mist over a forest fire. It wasn't healing, but it gave him just a second of hesitation, and that was all he needed. He focused on shoving the screeching orb back into its proverbial box, pushing it down with each steadying breath, reminding both himself and the orb that he was not dead yet as he fought against it.
He couldn't be sure how long it took before his body seemed to be once more in his control. It could have been seconds, it could have been an hour before the white light shifted to the edges of his vision and allowed the world to return to his sight. Next to return was his hearing, and through the drone of insects he heard a small sweet voice saying, “--That's it. Keep breathing. Come on, Gale. Just keep breathing.”
Gale blinked several times before his vision was suitably clear, only then realizing that he had at some point crumpled to the ground. When he looked up to orient himself, the first thing he saw was Inixi kneeling next to him. It felt like a punch to his stomach to see her, wide-eyed with fear and tracks of tears against her lovely face, so far removed from the joy and hope of the night. Gale wanted to comfort her, but when his lips parted the only sound that came out was a wheeze.
Inixi reached out to steady him, one hand on his shoulder and one cupping his face. “Don't– don't push yourself,” she whispered, “Please.”
Gale wasn't about to fight her on that. But in absence of words, he reached out a shaky hand and touched her tear stained cheek, forcing a smile. She managed a ghost of one in return.
His left hand was still balled tight and he opened his fingers to see shards of what looked to be a ring of some kind in his palm. Gale looked at Inixi quizzically, and she shrugged with a still-weak smile on her lips.
“I’ve been keeping an extra magic artifacts on me…just in case you needed it,” she revealed. The wizard looked at her tenderly. Though he wasn't able to express how he felt verbally in that moment, she seemed to understand all the same, and ducked her head in embarrassment.
Slowly, Gale situated himself lying on his back in the grass. It was easier to catch his breath this way, and less strain than sitting up. Inixi joined him, staring up at the stars while they waited for his speech capabilities to return. It felt like an age before he was able to say in a whisper, “I'm sorry.”
Inixi turned her head to look at him. “For what?”
“Frightening you.” A distinct wheeze still clung to the end of every word, but at least it didn't hurt. “I…lost control.”
She rolled to her side to face him, elbow tucked under her head. “I didn't exactly help.” Her eyes darted down, brow furrowed. “I encouraged it because…I wanted it. Not because it was smart.”
It was devastating to see her like this after an experience like they'd had. From something so perfectly exciting and passionate and romantic to this anxious quiet was a terrible leap. Gale watched her carefully. “Would you think I was insane if I said it was worth it?”
Her eyes lifted to his once more and she made a face. “Yes, you dolt, I would think you absolutely fucking lost it.”
Gale grinned. “It was worth it.”
Inixi looked at him with equal parts tender adoration and as though he were the greatest idiot she had ever met. Gale laughed at the expression, the sound melting into coughs at the end.
No, this would not be a night he regretted, no matter what came next.