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Everyone is winding down from a rather ugly battle. Some fellow named Marcus, a Flaming Fist with wings—wings!—revealed himself to be an Absolute spy. He abruptly flew in from the balcony and tried to kidnap the Selûnite cleric, Isobel. He would have doomed everyone at Last Light, had he succeeded, but everyone worked together to fight him off.
Marcus summoned a horde of Winged Horrors, but Astarion swept in with his sneak attacks, taking them out one by one, thanks to that magical invisibility cloak Ziri gifted to him. Seeing Astarion disappear gave Gale the idea to cast an Invisibility spell on Isobel. His temples throbbed with the effort to keep his concentration, determined to keep her out of Marcus' sight. Meanwhile, Karlach and Ziri took on Marcus together. She swung her ax and dented the Fist's armor, but it was Ziri who finished him off—he Shadow Stepped behind him and thrust a Shadow Blade into his throat.
Isobel, rattled from the attack, thanked them for saving her life and noticed blood pooling at Ziri's side. Sometime during the scuffle, one of the Winged Horror's must have slashed him with its claws.
"You're injured," Isobel says.
"Ah ... I didn't even notice." Ziri presses his hand over the wound. His palm comes back red.
"Let me take a look."
Isobel pulls Ziri away from the group and outside onto the balcony. She sits him down on a chair underneath Selûne's moonlight, the place where she completed her ritual for the Shield. Silver beams cascade down upon him, and turn Ziri into a creature of light—he's beautiful, Gale thinks to himself, even illuminated in such a rotten place as the Shadowlands. Ziri shifts his robes down, allowing them to pool around his lap, covering him from the waist down.
The wound is shallow, thank the Weave. Isobel mutters the incantation to a healing spell, but Gale can't take his eyes off of him. His hair is raven and lustrous, his muscles lean and sleek ... Ziri tilts his head back and closes his eyes. Gale's mouth is so dry he has to wet his lips. Worse his focus drops to his bare, sweat-slicked chest ... stealing a glance at the tight lines of his abdomen ...
It's inappropriate to feel this way, here and now, but Gale can sense the heat of his body rising in fits and starts. He's lived a life of a hermit for so long and hasn't felt something so carnal for another person since ... well, since Mystra. Even then, they never partook in pleasures of the flesh ... not in the mortal sense, anyway. Everything 'physical' was done in the Astral, intertwining their spirits in visions of the Weave. It's what Gale preferred—at least, that's what he thought ... admittedly, he hadn't felt another mortal's touch in ... well, he couldn't remember.
Gale's enchanted by the ridges spanning across Ziri's ribs and chest. Gods, he wants to roam his hands over them so badly. He's been doing quite a bit of reading lately about tieflings—purely for academic purposes, obviously. He's read that their ridges are not as sharp as they look. It makes sense; they're covered in skin, after all, but Gale wants to find out for himself. He wants to touch, to kiss along Ziri's sternum ... to feel his heartbeat beneath his, to discover what spots made him shiver, what made him gasp—
"Good gods, Gale. Can you be any more obvious?"
Gale whips his head up. "What?"
Astarion gestures to Ziri outside. "You're staring at him like you want to devour him."
"I—no, I'm not!"
Karlach laughs. "Can you blame him? I mean, look at the guy. I'd ride him until I saw stars if I had the chance."
"Don't be so base," Gale scolds. "He's not a piece of meat! He's ... transcendent. Beautiful. A beam of light in this otherwise hopeless place."
Karlach warms. "Aww!"
"Ugh!" Astarion rolls his eyes. "'Beam of light?' He's a shadow sorcerer!"
"It's a metaphor," Gale says.
"Yes, well, you'll need better metaphors if you want to bed him," Astarion says. "Tell him that his body whispers temptation. It's as if the gods made him to ruin you."
"Damn," Karlach says. "I gotta admit, that's pretty slick. You should try it, Gale."
Gale sputters. "Are you serious? I can't say that!"
Astarion lets out a high-pitched giggle. "No! You can't, can you?" He flicks back a lock of silver hair. "I'm afraid only I'm capable of such charm."
Gale rolls his eyes. His gaze somehow finds itself falling on Ziri yet again. A hopeless little tug pulls at his gut.
It must show on his face because Karlach softens. "Aw, come on! Don't be shy, man. You're Gale of Waterdeep! Our wizard! If you can handle living with that orb every day, then talking to your crush should be easy peasy."
"Right," Gale says, sweating. "I am a ... strong, capable wizard! And Ziri is nothing more than a fellow practitioner of magic."
... A handsome practitioner ... with muscles that glisten in the moonlight ... with red eyes that gleam like fire gems and a ... tail. Gale has always been fascinated by his tail. He's seen him use it to sweep into several enemies at once and knock them prone. Gale wonders if it's as strong as it looks ... how it would feel if Ziri were to wrap it around his waist and tug him forward—
"Just talk to him about books," Karlach says, interrupting his thoughts. "You wizard types like books, don't you?"
"He's a sorcerer," Gale points out.
"And a bard. Bards like books!"
"Oh, yes, I'm sure you can recommend him some ... risqué leaflets," Astarion says.
Karlach snorts, but that gives Gale some pause. "Actually ... I do know of a very interesting book."
Karlach beams. "Perfect! There, you see? I knew you had it in you. Now, go talk to him about your special book."
"Right!" Gale says. "Talking! Of course. I'm good at that."
Gale hovers near the balcony's double doors. It looks like Ziri is in the middle of a serious conversation with Isobel. It feels wrong to interrupt so he waits patiently for a respite. He notes that the gash is completely healed on Ziri's side, much to his relief, but Ziri's face is somber, and his fingers twitch, the way they do when he's holding back from something especially violent. But Isobel smiles and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. That seems to unwind some of the tension building in Ziri's body, his features softening, that quiet smile that Gale loves so much finally gracing his face. She says something to him that Gale cannot hear before straightening and handing him a moonlantern.
"This should protect you against areas of utter darkness, where the curse is stronger," she tells him.
"Thank you," Ziri says politely.
She smiles. "Be careful out there, all right?"
"You as well."
She finally walks away. Ziri stands and pulls his robes back on over his shoulders. He holds the lantern by the handle and tilts his head up at it curiously. Carefully, he shifts it off of the hook and brings it over to the table where Isobel completed her protection spell.
Ah! Finally ... a moment he can seize. Gale takes it and approaches Ziri out on the balcony.
"Hello," he says. "How are you feeling?"
Ziri glances up at him in surprise. "Oh, hey! Sorry, I didn't hear you approaching ... I'm all right, Isobel patched me up well enough. Thanks for asking."
A small hum.
The end of Ziri's whip-like tail flickers back and forth, the way it does when he's intensely intrigued by something. "I'm quite fascinated by this lantern. I think something might be inside it."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but I'm not sure ..." He turns it from side to side and frowns. "I thought I heard a voice but ... maybe it's just the shadow curse getting to my head."
Normally, Gale would be quite interested, but considering Ziri was his current fascination—well.
"I see ..." Gale clears his throat. "Forgive me for changing the subject. I just wanted to tell you that it is ... quite thrilling to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side."
Ziri sends him a sidelong glance and smiles. Gale can't help but smile back—can never help.
"Thanks," he says. "It's thrilling fighting at your side too. That Invisibility spell you put on Isobel was good thinking."
Gale's face warms. He ducks his head, fiddling with his earring for no reason, then realizes and immediately stops, feeling quite foolish. He coughs, unsure of what to do with his hands. He folds them behind his back, but that's not very forward is it? He hesitates and decides to step closer, their arms brushing, planting one hand on the table and leaning forward with his other hand on his hip. Casual. Super, super casual ...
Ziri doesn't seem to mind. Though, he doesn't seem to notice either. He's entirely focused on that little lantern of his, white light bathing the panes of his handsome face. He taps the glass with the tip of his claw, dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Gale glances over his shoulder at Karlach and Astarion. Karlach grins and flashes him a thumbs up.
Right. Strong, capable wizard ...
Gale heroically presses on. "So ... Ziri ... I, um ... once read a book ... that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one's desire for ... other forms ... of stimulation."
There's a loud clatter. Ziri scrambles to catch the moonlantern, just barely grabbing it before it can shatter onto the table.
"... Have you ever read anything on that subject?"
✨ 🔮✨
Astarion groans from the other side of the room. "Good gods. He's hopeless."
"Hang on," Karlach says. "I think it's working."
"... You can't be serious."
Karlach gestures to the balcony. "Look at them!"
Astarion does. For once in his life, their confident, daring leader is at a loss for words. He stutters—actually stutters—as though he's swallowed and choked on that silver tongue of his.
"I—um—uh—" Ziri's face burns bright red. "You ... what are you trying to say?"
"Only that I find you quite irresistible," Gale says, so sincere, it makes Astarion wrinkle his nose. "You never look so beautiful as at the end of a stirring battle. Your cheeks flushed, gaze bright, muscles glistening ..."
Ziri, if possible, turns even redder. His fingers clench around the moonlantern like he doesn't know what else to do with it. "You ... you want me?"
"Yes."
"You want me?"
"I just said that, didn't I?"
"You're drawn to me," Ziri says, clarifying for the hundredth time. "Even in a place like this?"
Gale softens and steps closer into Ziri's space. Even across the room, Astarion can feel the warmth of his affection shedding its light. Ugh ... disgusting.
"I can't imagine anywhere that could turn my heart from you, cursed or otherwise. You'd always be as beautiful, and as impressive."
Ziri's face breaks into a smile of astonishing, smoky tenderness. He finally sets that blasted lantern aside and crosses his arms, clearly still unsure of what to do with himself. He takes a step forward and gently knocks Gale's boot with his own. "Well ... I'm not much of a reader, but I have seen some ..." He coughs. " ... Informing diagrams ..."
"Oh?" A playful smile lifts Gale's face, tilting his head. "You have?"
"Mmhm ..." Ziri's tail shifts so it's circling around Gale's body. Not touching but just hovering as if in a subconscious effort to be closer to him. Astarion wonders if Ziri even notices that he's doing it. "Yes ... very, very informative."
"Then might I suggest we pool our knowledge. No sense in letting valuable first-hand experience go to waste, after all."
"Oh my gods," Astarion says in disbelief. "You're right. It is working."
Karlach laughs out loud. "Hell yeah!"
The two of them flinch, as if just remembering they had an audience. Gale turns and narrows his eyes. Ziri follows his gaze, his surprise melting into a laugh. He covers his mouth with his hand, fangs bright and white.
"That's enough out of you two," Gale says. He flicks his wrist and a gust of sourceless wind wooshes forward, slamming the balcony doors shut.
Astarion scoffs. "How rude! After all our encouragement!"
"Right? Wizards, man ..."
He huffs. "Now what are we supposed to do for fun?"
"Go back to camp and tell Shadowheart?" A wide grin breaks across Karlach's face. "I made a bet with her that Gale would be the first to say something. She didn't think he would! She owes me ten coins."
"Ha! Now that I have to see."