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Summary
“I will not deny that at the time, bringing a child into the world was the furthest from my thoughts. A sentiment you have evidently held with you all this time.” He dips his head slightly, and his voice follows. “I was far more concerned with our survival, particularly seeing that you were determined at times to sacrifice yourself for us, if not for my timely interventions.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” you quip, poking him in the chest, right where his scars from the Netherese Orb still linger. He smiles ruefully at that, and raises his glass in acknowledgement before continuing.
“Those days, I hardly dared hope for even a night like this – drinking wine, reading alongside you, an evening of frivolity with our friends behind us – let alone anything more.”
“And now?” you ask, your own voice going husky. The look he gives you is devastating.
“I hope,” he says simply.Baldur's Gate is saved and you now enjoy a wonderfully settled life with Gale. Only one question remains: could there be room in that life for a child?