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Gale trod up the stairs to his library. Behind a bookshelf was a secret door, and beyond that, a storage room. The wizard's steps were unsure on the creaking wooden stairs. He couldn't see where he was going from the staves he held in his arms. Ten of them, once full of magic and now nothing more than overgrown sticks of wood. Because of his ambition. Because of his foolishness. They jostled in his grasp, and one fell from his arms to clatter on the steps and slide down them.
"Oh, Mother of--"
"Do you need help, darling?"
Gale couldn't turn around without risking the other staves falling from his grasp. The elvish vampire had been silent on the stairs, his footfalls soundless. "Could you get that for me?" Gale asked with a defeated sigh. He hated to ask for help. These staves were a mess of his making. It was for him to clean it up.
So quiet was the elf that Gale didn't realize he'd gotten closer until he spoke again. "Why don't you give me some of those, and we can put them away together?"
Gale's lips pursed in a frown. "I've got it," he says. The staves were slipping, though, and another one started to fall, but the elf's quick hand shot out around Gale and grabbed it. Gale's shoulders slumped as he relinquished a second staff to his husband. "You don't have to do this, Astarion."
"Three more ought to do it."
Gale knew that, if this became an argument, he would lose. Astarion was the most stubborn person he knew, and that included himself. So he carefully loosened three staves from his grip and let the elf take them. He had to admit that five staves were easier to carry than ten. "Just to the top of the stairs," he said.
"I'm going to help you all the way," Astarion informed the wizard.
Gale grumbled, "Fine." He started climbing the stairs again. This time it was a simple task. Why did he hate asking for help so much? Why did it make him feel lesser? He had been fiercely independent, even as a boy. Perhaps he hated it because it reminded him of his own weakness. The orb was gone from his chest, with only the circle and wispy lines left to remember it by. His magic was slowly coming back to him. But he had spent a year and some change helpless. He had relied on Tara for too much. It was such an empty feeling, not to be able to do for oneself all the things one could do before.
He got to the top of the stairs and stepped into the library. A clack of wood against wood behind him indicated that his husband was following. He passed through the cluttered space. He really needed to tidy up. There were books on every available flat surface, some stacked precariously high. Loose papers covered his desk. The curtains were drawn against the sun, so his husband wasn't in any danger. He triggered the secret door's latch, and the bookshelf slid aside. It was a narrow opening, so he turned sideways to slip through. The storage room was also cluttered. Rings, amulets, trinkets and baubles filled the shelves in the small, windowless space. Gale put his staves on a pile of wands and rods and other staves. Gods, had he really consumed so much magic?
He stepped aside to let his husband pass by so he could unload his staves as well. The elf was in a black and red doublet over a white shirt, with black trousers and boots. Black and red were his colors. They made his pale skin seem like ivory. His silver-white hair was arranged in a perfect coif of windswept curls. After depositing his staves on the pile, the elf turned to smiled at Gale. In his smile, the wizard saw a hint of fangs. The elf's red eyes were alight with contentment and pleasure. It was nice to see him looking happy. After the dismal road they had traveled together, it was a welcome change.
"There," the elf said. "Was that so hard?"
Gale sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I could have done it myself."
Astarion stepped closer and took both of Gale's hands in his own. His skin was cool to touch. "The point of being married is that now you don't have to.
Gale looked away from his beautiful husband at the clutter all around him. The testament to his past failure. "There are burdens I can't share with you," he said. "The classes at Blackstaff--"
"--cancel some of them," Astarion said.
Laughter bubbled up to Gale's lips. "Astarion, I can't just cancel my classes."
"You can," Astarion said. "Once in a while. Give yourself a day of rest. Declare yourself too ill to attend, and stay home with me."
Gale's gaze drifted back to Astarion. Warmth swelled up inside him, just as it did every other time he looked at the elf. Astarion had saved him. Literally. He was willing to die for an ideal, and it turned out he didn't have to. Maybe the elf was right about this, too. "Fine," he relented. "Only once in a while."
Astarion gave Gale's hand a tug and led him out of the storage room. The bookshelf clicked back into place behind them. Looking around the library, Astarion said, "You must let me help you tidy up in here."
"You don't know where any of the books go," Gale said as he let Astarion lead him along.
"Then teach me you system," Astarion said. He led Gale through the library and back down the stairs. Sunlight poured through the windows of the kitchen, so they avoided it and went instead to a sitting room with the curtains drawn.
Gale looked wistfully at the kitchen as they passed it by. He longed to cook a fine meal again. He never had the time. Cooking had always relaxed him. "Maybe we could invite our friends to visit," he said. "They're only a teleport spell away."
"We could," Astarion said, and his velvet voice held a note of approval.
Ideas for what he could do if he canceled a class flooded Gale's mind. He could cook a fine meal, he could go to the shops, he could perhaps accompany Astarion to the night market. When was the last time he had given himself permission to pursue his hobbies? "I could re-enchant those items in the storage room," he said. "Make them magical again."
Astarion led Gale to a couch and coaxed him to sit together. "Yes, you could. Your power is coming back. You could make some fantastic treasures."
"Better than the magic they had before," Gale said.
Astarion nodded. "Undoubtedly."
Gale gazed at the elf and clasped his hand dearly. "Lately," he admitted, "I've felt overwhelmed. After everything we've been through, I came home and piled on more tasks to keep myself busy so I wouldn't have to think about that day on the netherbrain."
The elf kissed Gale's knuckles and said, "That burden is at an end. You don't have to take on more burdens. It's all right to rest, my love."
Gale sighed, and tension eased out of his shoulders. "I don't know who I am if I'm not overwhelmed."
Astarion smiled as he said, "Then let's find out together."
"I love you," Gale said. The words came easily. Loving the elf, at least, was no burden at all.
"And I you," Astarion said. He leaned forward to press a kiss to Gale's lips. Gale returned the kiss, his eyes closing. Astarion continued, "And I will be with you on this new journey to discover who you are now. All the way."
Gale smiled. He still didn't like asking for help, but he was grateful for his stubborn husband who was going to help him anyway. "Thank you," he said.