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Dark spots danced in Snow’s vision as she tried to remain standing. She could barely remember the last 24 hours, let alone the last few minutes that had caused the radiating pain in her skull. All Snow knew was that the weapon was blunt, Shadowheart was out of healing spells, Cardenas didn’t specialize in the area, and they didn’t have any potions. Their words from days ago were fuzzy at best, something about a temple, that it would be an easy in and out deal. This was not that. They were waiting for someone. Who were they waiting for? Gods, thinking hurts.
“Snow, you need to sit down,” Shadowheart pleaded. Her voice grated in the half-drow’s ears like nails on a chalkboard.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” Snow replied. Even her own voice sounded loud. Was she shouting?
“Snow—”
“I said I'm fine.”
Through her tainted eyes, Snow attempted to take in her surroundings. The trio was in the shade of some temple ruins, but nothing seemed abnormal about it. Broken stone, twisted vines, and the sun that beat down a little too bright for the warrior’s eyes. Why was Snow here? Where in Faerûn was she? And who were the three of them waiting for?
Even as the aches turned into throbbing, Snow tried to rack her brain for something, anything of note. Shadowheart, Cardenas, and she were somewhere between Baldur’s Gate and Waterdeep, but that left a lot of room for error. Perhaps even that fact wasn’t a true one. For all Snow knew at that very moment, the trio could be all the way in Amn or Neverwinter. They must have been tipped off about something precious. Special enough for a sorcerer and a cleric to acquire the aid of their swordswoman friend. That being said, she had been out of the heat of battle for a handful of months.
Every time Snow blinked, she saw stars and sparks. If she kept her eyes closed for too long, everything began to spin, and she felt sick. She knew she would be fine, would get through whatever this mess was, and be okay in the end. It was as if something deep inside her told her that if she kept standing and awake, she would be all right.
In a flash of multicolored light, a man in purple robes appeared. Snow knew he was important and terribly special to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. The man’s words were muffled as he spoke to her companions. Just who was he? He was friendly to Shadowheart and Cardenas. When he began to approach her, Snow flinched.
“Love?” Said the man as he reached for her hand.
“I'm married!” Snow shouted, much to her splitting headache.
Her vision blackened for a few moments as warmth flooded her cheeks. Married? When did she get married? Was that part of some scheme the trio was involved in? She heard Cardenas snicker before Shadowheart subsequently elbowed him.
“Well, I would certainly hope so,” The man chuckled. “I was the one to ask for your hand in that regard.”
As the little half-drow lowered her head and began to step back, her gait faltered, and her knees buckled. Instead of hitting the ground, warm and familiar arms wrapped around her waist.
“Snow, my heart, it's simply me,” said the stranger.
Seeing him up close, even if she had to squint to dissuade the edges of her vision from going blurry, was when things clicked into place. The brown hair with slivers of grey slicked away from his face, warm eyes that melted like warm chocolate, the bravado of a talkative but now very worried wizard.
Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep.
How in all the sweet hells could she have forgotten her own husband! She should have recognized him by stature alone. Even his voice would have sufficed. Snow’s chest tightened as if to match the pain in her skull. Gale cradled her cheek and rubbed the pad of his thumb across it. Despite her confused memories, Snow knew his touch like her own voice.
“Oh,” Snow said breathlessly. “Gale, I’m so sorry.”
“Shh… No need to apologize,” Gale cooed. “I wouldn’t doubt an equally hard bump on the head would do the same to me.”
Tears stung Snow’s eyes. Her own memories had been warped once before, not long before she met her love and truest of friends. Despite most being lost for good, cracks had shown through. Memories best left to be forgotten, but they clung on like stubborn leeches or sore scars that could never properly heal.
Some of the recent events began to slowly filter back into her mind. Cardenas and Shadowheart had asked Snow for help to find an abandoned Selûne temple. The specifics on exactly why escaped Snow still, but the reason the couple asked for Snow’s aid was due to the area being home to thieves of all sorts. Akin to what happened in Rosymorn, kobolds had taken this place as their den. Most of them scattered when the trio arrived, but a handful had a death wish. Snow had been the one to take the brunt of the beating. Deep, deep down, she knew she was terribly concussed from that spat. Yet, much to her favorite cleric’s chagrin, Snow had adamantly denied help. Did Shadowheart use her last spell for the day on Sending? Or was Snow too frazzled to recognize that she still had healing?
Snow brought her arms around Gale’s shoulders and hugged him tight. The wizard returned it in kind and slowly rubbed a hand on her lower back with a small healing spell. Even so, guilt wrapped its tendrils around the poor girl’s heart and mind. The four of them were 2 days of travel out from Baldur’s Gate at the very least. Waterdeep was even farther. To Snow, the only bright side to the situation was that it was vacation time for those at Blackstaff.
“I think it would be for the best we set up for the night,” Cardenas said. His voice sounded distant.
“It’s only 2 in the afternoon,” Snow replied.
Cardenas crossed his arms. “And you look ready to pass out, my friend.”
As Snow let go of Gale, even as one of his hands remained on her hip, inky blackness once again swam in her vision.
“I’m not going to faint,” she said.
Just as she took a step forward, gravity seemed to shift. The last thing Snow remembered before the darkness took her was Gale and Shadowheart shouting in panic while Cardenas laughed.
^^^^^^^^^
When Snow next woke up, her body felt as heavy as lead. Through tired eyes, she could make out the confines of her tent. Dusk had settled outside, and crickets sang as a tiny circle of lights danced above. Her metal plates and chainmail had long since been removed from her person as well. Snow’s head lolled to the side and was met by an unmistakable warmth. Both she and Gale lay on a bedroll, with him having a pillow under his head as Snow rested her’s on his chest. In one hand, the wizard held a book. In the other, he played with his wife’s linen hair.
“‘M sorry for dragging you out here,” Snow mumbled. Her voice had become scratchy in the past few hours.
“Don’t be. Even if it wasn’t an emergency, I’d still come running,” Gale replied in a soft tone.
He quickly bookmarked a page and sat up a little. In turn, Snow nuzzled her head right over his heart as his arms held her close. Despite his words of reassurance, guilt still washed over the half-drow. Every once in a while, the duo held each other like this. Whether it be from a bad day or a nightmare, it soothed them. In this particular moment, it reminded Snow of when they were still adventuring and managed to arrive in Baldur’s Gate. It was when Snow left camp in the middle of the night to confront Orin on her own. Snow had done the deed and slain her, but she herself was killed for rejecting Bhaal. When Wither’s brought Snow back from the brink and everyone helped her back to camp, all the warrior wanted was to stay close to her love. Even if Gale didn’t admit it through words, Snow knew he was scared. They both were.
“I’m sorry if I worried you,” Snow said. “Especially with how I was acting.”
“Nonsense. Things like this happen even to the greatest of planners,” Gale replied. “Yes, I might have been a little worried at first, especially with how Shadowheart sounded when she contacted me, but not upset. I knew you’d bounce right back sooner or later. You’re a lot stronger than you think.”
“Gale…”
“I mean it, Snow. And before you say it, no, you don’t have to make it up to me,” the wizard said with a little laugh.
“I-I wasn’t going to say that,” Snow stammered. She shifted up to look her husband in the eye. Even as she tried to pout, Snow flushed pink at Gale’s words. He simply smirked. Read her like a book, like always.
“And just what were you going to say, love?”
Pain had still made its presence known inside Snow’s skull, making it difficult to think. For one of the many times she has debated this man, she was yet again at a loss for words.
Before he could speak up, however, Snow kissed Gale as hard as she could. He gasped a little when their lips met, but Snow kept it chaste. If she were tempted further, it wouldn’t only be her head that would be sore in the morning. Snow leaned back and pressed her forehead to Gale’s. Much like her, blush had appeared across his cheeks.
“Maybe I… Maybe I wanted to kiss and make it up to you,” Snow huffed.
Gale smiled. “By all means.”