Chapter Text
“You should be outside, living.” Tara calls from the other side of the door. “He would not want you to be cooped up in here, Mrs Dekarios. ”
“I told you to stop calling me that.” Tav rises slowly from where she sits, snapping shut the book in her hand. A handwritten journal. For days now she has been plucking them from the shelves, devouring them morning and night in the hopes they sate the ache in her chest. They do not.
“He would’ve wanted-”
“Well, he’s not entitled to an opinion after blowing himself up!” She screams, launching the book at the door. She pulls her robe – his robe – further around her and sighs.
Her outbursts are growing more frequent, contrary to Tara’s constant assurances that time will help. Time. Tav stifles a scoff just thinking about it. She smoothes her palm over the swell of her belly. Lately, the passage of time has only served to remind her of what she has lost. She’s not even sure how long she’s been up here, locked away in Gale’s tower; it’s more a townhouse than a tower, something she would’ve teased him about endlessly had they made the journey back here together. She’s been there long enough to have lost the will. And long enough to have found it again upon the realisation that Gale had left something of himself behind.
Gods, she hates him. Hates him bitterly for leaving her behind. And Gods, how she loves him, still. Enough to have dragged herself to Waterdeep, as per his wishes. Enough to have let Tara coddle her those first few days. Enough to have sobbed into Morena Dekarios’ waiting arms. Enough to speak to him every evening from the balcony he had promised they would share. Enough to have started reading each of his books, knowing his fingers had touched every page. Enough to imagine all the ways he might’ve reacted to the news of his impending fatherhood. The latter she lingers on more than she would like, for it only gives way to other, saccharine fantasies she knows will never come to fruition.
And now, she muses, as she turns to close the balcony doors for the evening, she loves him enough to imagine him before her. Because Gale Dekarios stands on that very balcony, staring at her mutely. Still in the robes he wore the day they parted ways; the day he forced her to leave his side; the day he chose oblivion over a life with her.
“Wonderful.” Tav mutters. “We’ll add hallucinations to the list now.” It is a long list; nightmares, heart palpitations, hysterics to name a few. What’s one more? She grimaces.
The Gale on the balcony walks inside, and Tav marvels for a moment at just how brilliantly her mind has conjured him, the still open balcony doors forgotten. There’s even a small cut across his cheekbone that weeps. His gaze has dropped to her middle and he remains silent. Perhaps this Gale does not speak because she has forgotten what he sounds like; she suppresses the panic that thought evokes. She misses his voice. His penchant for verbosity. She wishes to hear him one last time. But still he says not a word.
“If this is my mind’s way of making me forgive you, it’s not working.” She snaps, though her voice wavers. “I still think you’re an idiot. I think you should have stayed. I am still mad at you. And I think you would have made a wonderful father.”
His eyes flicker back up to hers and for a moment it looks like he’s about to speak, but she cuts him off before her mind has a chance to conjure a cheapened version of his voice. The rage within her continues to rise.
“How could you?!” She screams for the second time that evening. Tara will surely be wondering at her mistress’s sanity, and not for the first time since Tav arrived. “Was I not enough? Was I not worth staying for?!”
She wishes so badly to hammer at his chest with her fists, but she darent draw any closer. The illusion surely won’t hold. And then, she’ll be alone with her thoughts again. Instead, she takes another step back and hugs herself, withdrawing.
She whispers then, giving in to the lump in her throat, “I thought you loved me. I thought…” and then she laughs, “Tara calls me Mrs Dekarios. Which… which is ridiculous, isn’t it? If you’d wanted to marry me, you wouldn’t have... You just wouldn’t have.”
“I’m so sorry, my love.” The false Gale speaks, and it is so like him she can scarcely draw breath. All at once she wants to curse and thank her grief-addled brain for giving her back the memory of the way he sounds. My love. What she would have given to hear that one last time in earnest. “I wanted you to live.”
“You had no right making that choice for me. You had no right!” Tav turns away, unsure why she wants to conceal her tears from a man that no longer exists. “Tara tells me it will get better with time, that one day it won’t hurt. Your mother has been… Gods, she’s been so wonderful and I have been appalling. They’re both certain you would have wanted this, but I’ll never know for sure, not really.”
She looks down at herself, ashamed of where her thoughts go when confronted with the memory of those first few days after losing him. When life lost all meaning and she… She stifles the thoughts. She places a hand to her bump, a silent apology, one she makes frequently.
“You decided that I could live without you, that I could just move on the way the rest of the world would. Did you really think that my love for you would just fade over time? Did you think me that fickle?” Tav quickly wipes away the tears, furious with herself for giving in to this madness.
“My love, I-” A floorboard creaks as he moves. For a brief moment, she finds it odd that her mind would conjure such small details.
“You robbed me. It’s selfish, but you did. ” She blurts. “You robbed me of the life you promised we would have. You may have Mystra’s forgiveness but you do not have mine.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing.” His dejected tone only hardens her resolve.
“You thought nothing because you’re not really here.” She spins back around to face him, ready to charge at the apparition. Surely that will get rid of him. The moment she walks through him, her mind will banish him, surely. Only, when Tav turns to face him, he’s crouching down picking up the book she had launched at the door. The book doesn’t pass through his fingertips as she expects.
“You’re reading my journals?” Gale stands, closing the cover and stroking the spine as he inspects it, like he’s just rescued a wounded animal. Tav blinks, eyes on the book in his hands. In. His. Hands. “It’s easier to read them when you’re not throwing them around.”
“You’re not real.” She whispers, a chant almost. “You’re not here.”
“I can assure you, I am quite corporeal.” He smiles, a familiar twinkle in his eye. “It was quite the ordeal, believe me.”
Gale places the book on a shelf before cautiously approaching her.
“Stay back!” Tav has no weapons, other than a small dagger on her person. She’s had no need of them. “You can’t be him, so you’re someone else. Something else.”
“I am-”
“A shapeshifter.” Tav concludes as she edges around the room whilst simultaneously reaching for the dagger concealed beneath her – his – robes.
“I am most definitely not a shapeshifter, and I promise you that stabbing me will reveal nothing untoward. Unless you count of course my bleeding out all over my floor.” Gale stands now in the middle of the room. “I’m told it took considerable effort to piece me back together; I’m certain our friends would be none too pleased they’d gone to such efforts only for me to be on deaths doorstep again in a matter of hours.”
“Say something only Gale would know or say.” She demands suddenly, dagger now firmly gripped in her hand. “If you’re really him, which you’re not, you will say something only he would say to me.”
For a moment, his jaw slackens. She’s got him now, she thinks, this imposter. He considers her for a moment before glancing about the room. Stalling for time, Tav assumes. She edges closer to the door, eyes trained on him.
“The moment I, that is to say, when I started to come apart, you were all that I thought of.” Gale’s eyes shine and he looks to the ceiling.
“Of course you would say that.” Tav grumbles.
“I’m not done.” He holds up a finger, a very Gale-like mannerism that gives her pause. “I regretted it the moment I did it.” His shoulders slump with the weight of what he is admitting. “I could think of nothing but what – who – I was giving up. If I could go back and do it again, I wouldn’t. I would stay. I would stay with you and we would have come home together, and-”
“Well, now you’re just saying what I want to hear.” Tav snaps. She’s managed to dash the rest of the way around the room without him noticing. Her fingers wrap around the doorknob. Within seconds she’s sprinting down the stairs.
“Mrs Dekarios, we have visitors!” Tara announces as Tav makes it, breathless and confused, to the ground floor.
“Hello, darling!” Astarion smirks from where he lounges on the chaise by the window. Karlach smacks his boots from off the furniture before she launches herself at Tav, engulfing her in a warm, but not too warm, hug. Wyll stands back, leaning up against the doorway, though his eyes betray concern as he looks her up and down. Shadowheart stands mute beside the dining table Tara perches on.
Tav can’t remember the last time she was downstairs, a tenday at least. She loves them all dearly, but it’s too much, just like it was when they tried to make her come out of her – Gale’s – quarters two days ago. In the end she had compromised in so far as she had allowed them entry into the library. Her condition had been noticed immediately; she’d had no need to try and disguise it whilst alone, afterall. The lengthy silence that stretched out between them all had been broken by Astarion asking if her current state meant he could not partake in a late night snack. It had been the first time she’d laughed since arriving in Waterdeep.
“You’re glowing.” Karlach releases her now, taking a step back to take her in.
“She looks dreadful.” Astarion drawls as he stretches, basking in the lamplight above him the way he once did in the sun. “Don’t worry, darling. I will always tell you the truth.”
“It has been an odd sort of day.” Tav glances back up the staircase, half expecting the apparition to have followed her. It has not, for now at least. She is thankful that seeing her friends has clearly grounded her mind, now able grip reality once more. “I’m not myself.”
“Mrs Dekarios, your companions say they have news.” The tressym interjects.
“Tara, I swear on every single book upstairs that if you don’t stop calling me that I am going to-” A stair behind her creaks and she flinches. She turns and groans. The false Gale is slowly making his way downstairs. “Right, of course.” With hands on her hips she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
“Tav?” Shadowheart places a hand gently on her shoulder. “Tav, do you need to sit?”
“No, I need you to tell my hallucination he’s not real.”
Astarion barks with laughter behind her, cut short as something or someone hits him. Probably Wyll. Tav turns to level him with a glare but all she manages is a sob. The vampire’s smirk wavers slightly, the only sign of guilt he’ll allow himself to show.
“Just tell me you don’t see him!” She points to the stairs. Her gaze roams over each of her friends one by one, and she can’t help but notice they’re all staring at the same point behind her.
“Mr Dekarios?” Tara breaks the silence, standing, wings unfurling. “Is it… is it really you?”
Tav stands back, looking from her hallucination to Tara.
“It is so very good to see you.” Gale smiles warmly.
“You can see him.” The floor under Tav’s feet feels suddenly unstable.
“Yes, and I’ve seen a lot more of him today than I ever care to again.” Astarion sits up straight. “I told you it was a bad idea to teleport onto the balcony.”
“You… You can see him.” Tav’s breathing is no longer within her control. Shadowheart’s hand on her shoulder slides now to grip her upper arm as her knees give out. “Gale?”
“Hello, my love.”
Earlier that evening.
Gale Dekarios is not sure which is more painful; the act of his own resurrection – the agony of being slowly sewn back into existence – or, that the first voice he hears upon waking is Astarion’s.
“I say we tell him the truth.” Astarion hisses from somewhere above him. He’s lying down. The feeling has returned to his limbs, the slow torture of being put back together has abated. He knows he’s been dead for some time, not because he’s been aware of the passage of time, in fact the complete lack of conscious thought between this moment and his last is something he decides to worry about another time. No, he knows in his bones that it hasn’t been the matter of moments his mind wants him to believe.
“It is not for us to tell.” There’s Shadowheart. He wonders if his companions realise he’s regained consciousness or if they will continue to argue amongst themselves over his prone form.
“I concur.” Wyll, solemn and honourable as ever. Gale tries now to open his eyes, still heavy and unyielding.
“Well, I’m telling him.” Astarion’s declaration is met with a cacophany of objections from the others, only quelling when Karlach shouts at them.
“Shut the fuck up, all of you, he’s awake!” There’s a warm hand pressed to his shoulder as his eyes finally prise themselves open. Karlach beams and presses her hand into his before pulling him to sit upright. “Welcome back, you fucking idiot.” She says as he grimaces, stiff limbed and aching all over.
“Where is she?” The first words he speaks in this second life are of Tav. He squints, rubbing his eyes. There is little natural light around them – the sun has not long set. He sits on a bedroll on the floor in the robes he last wore – did they come back with him? He makes a note to analyse that later. He pats himself down, just making sure he’s really, truly, here.
Gale looks up at his companions, not missing the silence that falls heavily between them. Their eyes do not meet his. He struggles, knees be damned, to his feet and surveys their small camp. She is not here.
“Where-”
“She did not accompany us.” Wyll says sombrely.
“We had every intention of asking her to join us.” Shadowheart toys with her braid. “It just wasn’t…”
“She was busy!” They all stare wide eyed at Karlach, bewildered at the ridiculous statement that is of course a lie.
“Oh, for the love of-” Astarion’s mouth is covered quickly by Wyll’s hand as he wrestles the vampire into silence. They scuffle in the dirt, much to the bemusement of the rest of the party for a few moments until Wyll yelps, pulling his bleeding hand away.
“You bit me, you-”
“You invaded my personal space.” Astarion wipes delicately at his lips with his thumb. “I told you he should be informed.”
“It is not your news to tell.” Shadowheart admonishes as she takes Wyll’s hand in hers, healing it.
“Can someone please just tell me where Tav is?!” Gale raises his voice to be heard over the bickering.
“If I may,” Astarion pointedly ignores him as he addresses the rest of the group. “This,” he waves his hand in the direction of Gale. “Will be shock enough as it is. Have any of you considered that he might say something incredibly stupid when he sees her?”
That seems to make them all reconsider their stance on whatever information they’re witholding. They all watch him, scrutinising him, assessing him. Because whilst Gale Dekarios is known for having a way with words, it is not always the best way if he has not had the time to ponder on them beforehand.
“Fangs makes a good point.” Karlach nods, slapping Gale’s arm. “No offense intended, of course.”
“None taken, I think.” Gale rubs at his arm. He suspects that confusion would naturally occur post-resurrection, but nothing about this situation makes any sense to him. There is no reason for Tav not to be with them. They’re purposely hiding something from him. Something so terrible that even Astarion is afraid he might say something to upset her. His stomach lurches. “Is she unwell?”
“She’s pregnant.” Astarion says flatly.
“Astarion!” Shadowheart and Wyll exclaim. Karlach punches the vampire for good measure.
The companions descend into another argument of which Gale pays no attention to, because his heart suddenly feels too big for his chest. Pregnant. Somehow this hurts more than the orb ever did. But he told her to move on, didn’t he? He told her to live her life. He should be happy for her. And yet… “How long have I been gone?” He chokes out, staring at a spot in the distance somewhere between Wyll and Astarion’s heads. They pause their squabbling. “How long?” He roars, surprising even himself.
“Only eleven tendays, my virile friend.” Astarions lips curl into a feline-like, and, Gale observes, very punchable smile.
He staggers back, blood roaring in his ears. Eleven tendays is not as long as he thought he’d been gone. Eleven tendays is not long at all, and yet, with this new knowledge it seems altogether much too long.
Gods, a child.
“We thought it best we didn’t tell her what we were upto, all things considered.” Wyll explains. “We weren’t sure ourselves, so we didn’t want to get her hopes up.”
A child.
“He’s not listening to you.” Astarion interjects, picking at his nails.
“How is she?” Gale runs a hand through his hair. The sooner they get moving the sooner he can see her, but he needs to know everything he’s missed before he does.
His companions all share another loaded look.
“Furious.” Wyll grumbles, and Gale senses, based on the cool stare that accompanies it, that Wyll shares the sentiment.
“Grieving.” Karlach says sadly.
“Guilt-ridden.” That last one, from Shadowheart, catches him off guard. Why should Tav feel guilty for what he set in motion? He doesn’t need to ask, for she continues. “She tried to follow you, Gale. She only learned of her condition after…”
And now his stomach is lead. Because he understands what Shadowheart is saying all too well, and it sickens him to his core. That even in trying to keep her safe, he nearly cost her everything, anyway. He would never forgive himself.
“Where is she?”
“Waterdeep.” Wyll replies, moving to pick up the bedroll he’d been laid upon. “She journeyed there the morning after, wouldn’t let anyone accompany her.” It should have comforted Gale to know Tav had gone to Waterdeep as he’d hoped, requested, but to know she’d gone alone only served to further confirm how large a miscalculation he had made. “Your tressym keeps her company, and I understand your mother was by her bedside during her recovery.”
Recovery. Bile rises. How close to death had she been? He doesn’t want to know.
“If we get moving we can be there in a couple of hours.” Karlach nudges Gale with her shoulder.
“I have been such a fool.” He covers his face with his hands.
“Well, yes.” Astarion is all out of patience. “Now, all we need to know is if we were foolish in bringing you back?”
“Why did you?” Gale groans. “I clearly leave only chaos and misery in my wake”
“Yes, yes, it’s all very melancholy.” Astarion rolls his eyes. “We decided-”
“You decided.” Shadowheart interrupts the vampire and speaks directly to Gale now. “It was Astarion’s decision to make when we found the location of the Wish Scroll.”
They had wished him back. Never has he felt more unworthy than he does right now.
“Why would it be Astarion’s decision alone?” Gale frowns, unable to discern the reasoning as the companions all share that same look again.
“If you hadn’t already noticed,” Astarion nods in the direction of the moon. “We are doing this after sundown, and not by choice.” It takes a moment for Gale to understand.
“You can’t be in the sun.” He surmises. “The tadpole.”
“Correct.”
“You chose to bring me back over…”
“Don’t read too much into it. I did not do this for you.” Astarion hisses, then straightens, fixing his expression back to one of cool indifference. “I have time on my hands, time that I can use to find another scroll. Tav… does not.” Because Tav is human. Because Tav is having a child. His child. He does not deserve this second life.
A palm strikes his left cheek, and Shadowheart is standing before him, scowling. “Snap out of it.” He brings his hand up to his cheek, tracing a small cut with his fingertips and stares down at the smattering of blood left in the wake of one of the cleric’s rings. He is alive. He can bleed. He can feel. He needs to see her.
“Now, just to be sure before we pack up, you’re quite certain you won’t say anything stupid?” Astarion asks. His smile is a familiar one, smug and self assured, but there is worry in his narrowed gaze.
“Can we go, already?” Karlach is practically dancing with excitement now. “I want to see this reunion!”
Tav wakes in Gale’s bed as she has done every day for the past eleven tendays. Only, when she reaches for the pillow beside her – something she has also done every day – a hand comes up to meet hers instead. She has the sudden realisation she did not put herself to bed, that her knees gave way and darkness consumed her as she stood in the kitchen staring at a dead man. Accompanying that memory is the vague recollection of hearing Tara fuss as she was carried upstairs. Tav doesn’t want to open her eyes for it all to have been a dream.
“You’re not really here.” She whispers, eyes still firmly shut. Despite this, she brings the hand entwined in hers closer. Her lips brush his knuckles. “It’s impossible.”
“Implausible, I grant you.” Gale says gently as he takes his hand from hers and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I am here, my love. And if you’ll have me, I very much intend on staying.”
She slowly relents, opening her eyes, half expecting to wake from another dream. But there he is. Sitting on the side of the bed, awkwardly leaning over her in a way that suggests he has already tormented himself over how best to approach her. Not too close, not too distant.
“How?” She’s so quiet, she barely hears herself.
“A Wish Scroll, I’m told.” He picks at a loose thread in the bedding. Tav’s breath hitches; she understands as well as he does just how miraculous his return is.
“I’m still very angry with you.” She says after a moment, sitting up, back against the headboard.
“I deserve nothing less.” Gale agrees, a flicker of shame crosses his features before he tries to disguise it with a smile. “Make no mistake, I will spend everyday from here on in making it up to you any way I can.” He is moments away from launching into a secondary self flagellating monologue when Tav launches herself at him, arms around his neck, legs around his waist, nearly knocking him off the bed altogether.
“I missed you so much, you idiot.” She sobs into his shoulder as he buries his fingers in her hair, breathing her in. For the first time in his life Gale isn’t thanking the Gods for his good fortune, he is instead silently, and reluctantly, thanking a vampire spawn who sits downstairs in his parlour.
“And for the record I did – I would – very much like to marry you. Mrs Dekarios is very becoming.” Gale murmurs into her hair before pressing a kiss to the patch of skin just below her earlobe.
Tav freezes. Has he said the wrong thing? He’d done so well up til now. She pulls away from him slowly, a look of horror dawning on her face.
“I said a lot of things, didn’t I?” She blushes now and looks down at the space between them, or rather the growing lack of space between their bellies. “We should probably talk about this. I know that it’s not something we ever… I mean, I torment myself a lot with that comment you made about not being father material, but-”
He cuts her off with a kiss, because for all the words Gale knows, he cannot think of a single one that would convey just how happy he is in this moment. He shifts, pulling Tav properly into his lap and slips a hand into her robe, fingers splaying across her stomach whilst the other cradles her cheek, thumb gently stroking away an errant tear.
“Mrs Dekarios!” Tara calls from the other side of the door.
Tav breaks the kiss reluctantly, resting her forehead against his. “Yes, Tara?”
“I believe it is high time I had words with Mr Dekarios.”
“Oh, you’re in for it now.” Tav laughs through her tears, stealing another kiss before she stands. Gale catches her by the wrist, holding her still as she stands before him.
“You have always been enough, Tav. More than enough. More than I have ever, or will ever, deserve.” He whispers, looking up at her, eyes glistening. Everything she said earlier, he has memorised. He means it when he says he will spend forever earning her forgiveness. “My whole world is right here.”
Gale presses his lips to Tav’s belly, murmuring a soft “Hello”, before taking her outstretched hand, letting her lead him to the door.