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"A Bhaalspawn? Gosh."
The early-day sun cascades through the surrounding trees. Jewel-colored butterflies swirl nearby around a lavender shrub, and the river babbles somewhere behind them.
Ziri brought Gale here, away from the prying eyes of their companions, to tell him this. After all this time, he finally knows the truth: he's a Bhaalspawn. A child of the God of Murder.
Part of him was relieved to finally have an answer, a reason for his overwhelming urge to kill. Another part of him was absolutely gutted. How was he supposed to beat this? How was he supposed to stand up to a god? And how was he supposed to tell his partner?
Ziri shifts from foot to foot while Gale processes the news. He expected shock and horror. A thousand questions. Disgust, even. Not gosh.
"You ... don't seem very surprised," Ziri finally says.
"Surprised?" Gale laughs. "Of course I'm surprised! It's not often you hear such, um ... surprising news."
Ziri's eyes narrow.
Gale claps a reassuring hand over Ziri's shoulder, his tone suddenly somber. "I know what it is to have a closer connection than most with the gods, but with Bhaal? That's not a bond I'd like to be bound with. You should be careful. Very, very careful."
"You already knew, didn't you?"
"Oh, my gosh, yes! I figured it out weeks ago! I've been trying so hard to hold my tongue—"
"Weeks?!"
Gale holds up a finger. "Now, hold on! It was only a theory. I wasn't positive ... not at first. I didn't want to alarm you by bringing it up until I was 100% certain my hypothesis was correct."
Ziri groans and scrubs his hands down his face. "I can't believe you knew!"
"You forget I'm Gale of Waterdeep," he says, a little smug. "Finding answers to the impossible is how I spend my pastime. Let that be a lesson to you!"
"Yes, yes, you're right ... I should have known."
Gale beams. His brown eyes twinkle, clearly amused and very proud of himself.
Ziri huffs out a breath. "All right, go ahead. Tell me how you figured it out."
"Ah! Thank goodness. I've been keeping this in for so long, I thought I would simply burst sometimes. Metaphorically, by the way. Not literally. I assure you, the Orb is still quite stabilized ever since Elminster stopped by and took off with all of our cheese ..."
"Gale."
"Right! To the point. At first, I believed it was a curse or an enthrallment. I started looking into anything I could find on the subject in hopes to find a cure. Then, I found a book on the Bhaalspawn Crisis, and I realized ... much of the symptoms that tormented the Bhaalspawn added up with yours!" He lists each one on his fingers. "Your visions of bloodshed and murder, your disturbing nightmares, your innate urge to kill. Your constant struggle against your bloodthirsty impulses. It all made so much sense. Unfortunately, it didn't mention anything about the migraines you suffer from but ..."
Ziri stares at him, a cross between baffled and astonished. "Wait ... How long have you suspected?"
"Hm? Oh. Well, like I said, for a few weeks. I was alarmed after what happened to Alfira, of course, but I didn't really start digging into your, um, condition, until after a certain night in the Shadowlands. You know ... after you nearly skewered my heart in my sleep?"
Ziri winces. Gale notices and moves half a step closer, taking his hand in his.
"You must know there are cases of Bhaalspawn who have conquered their darker nature and acted selflessly just as you have. I admit, I don't know how we could free you from a god, especially one as fearsome as Bhaal, but ..."
"You knew this whole time ..." Ziri mutters.
"I guessed," Gale corrects. "An educated guess, mind you, make no mistake, however—"
"You knew, and you stayed with me anyway."
A surprised laugh. "Well of course, I stayed! What did you think I was going to do? Leave?"
Ziri says nothing.
Oh.
Oh, yes, that is what he thought—deep down.
Gale softens. He slides his palm up to cup Ziri's cheek. "I said I would protect you until you prevailed. I meant it. I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh," Ziri says, his voice breaking a little.
Gale presses his forehead against his, and Ziri's tail automatically wraps around his calf in a sudden longing to be closer, to ground himself. His vision starts to get a little blurry, and Gale wipes away the moisture gathering under his eyes with his thumbs. He kisses him, soft and sweet, and an unbearable tenderness swells behind Ziri's ribs. It's overwhelming and quite different from what Bhaal tries to constantly instill in him—hate, fear, violence and despair. He wants to overcome it for ... for this. He wants to be swept away by tenderness.
Ziri's forehead rests against Gale's even after they break apart. "Thank you," he whispers.
"You don't have to thank me. I love you, you goose."
Ziri laughs. He finally pulls away to rub his eyes. "Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I'm so sappy now. This is all your fault."
"I'm flattered," Gale says. "But I'm pretty sure you've been secretly sappy all along."
"Thanks. I think."
"It was, indeed, a compliment, so you're welcome." Gale claps his hands together. "Now! Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you've had a proper breakfast yet. We should head back ... I just got my hands on a very promising cast-iron pan and a brand new container of pancake batter I've been meaning to try."
"Only if you promise to show me your Bhaalspawn books."
"Offering to read with me?" Gale lifts his eyebrows. "A dangerous offer."
"Good thing I laugh in the face of danger every day."
"Oh, ha, ha."
A smile lifts Ziri's face. For the first time in a long while, he feels lighter. Hopeful. He reaches out and takes Gale's hand, weaving, until their fingers lace together.
Gale warms. He lifts Ziri's hand and brushes his lips over his knuckles. "To living dangerously then."