Forevermore

by Moonscar

Summary:

"What has you making such a long face?" A familiar voice came from the entrance of his study, and Biern glanced up, subtly closing the journal to hide his shame under the pretense of giving his fiancée his full attention. Gale was smiling, still in his professor's robes, the chalk dustings on the thigh of the robe visible from where Gale would wipe his hands off during lecture.

Biern felt his heart swell with a peculiar fondness.

"Simply thinking of designs for someone of importance," Biern said.

or

Biern, a dwarven jeweler, struggles to make a courting gift for his fiance.

Biern has never considered himself to be a jealous dwarf, enjoying his own independence and basking in the joy of allowing those he cares for, and who care for him in turn, to come back to him in their own time.

Despite this, he cannot say it surprises him when an ugly jealousy begins to root itself in his chest at the sight of Gale's earring, his goddess's symbol always on display. He's been pondering on the growing jealousy for some time now, glowering at the item when he is given the chance, once even asking Gale, with some amount of embarrassment, to hand it over so that Biern could examine the craftsmanship of it.

Gale, being his infuriatingly lovable self, had handed it over with a confused but tender expression.

It was fine craftsmanship indeed, the jewel at the center held steadily in the clutches of the gold while not taking away from the gem itself. The gold was clearly mixed with silver rather than palladium to give it a more subtle gold sheen, nearly giving it a white reflection to more accurately portray Mystra's colors. 

There hadn't been the mark of a Master, which had filled him with some relief.

Biern remembers turning the item in his palm, looking at the metal for blemishes, but only found the typical wear and tear of a loved item. He had had handed it back with a jerky nod, making some passing comment about fine craftsmanship before sulking away, jealousy along with shame curdling in his chest.

So now Biern found himself in his own study, a journal pulled in front of him with dozens upon dozens of sketches with various designs for earrings that would suit Gale just as well that represented their dedication to one another, but every single design fell short in some way to the one that Gale wore.

Biern, though he loathed to admit it, could not compare to Gale's devotion to the Weave and its magic, and he'd dare not try. It went, in some ways, beyond Gale's previous relationship with Mystra, though he was not fool enough to convince himself that their past relations didn't play some part in this.

But, as he fiddled with the beads carefully woven into his beard, he could conclude that it wasn't all.

The idea of Gale leaving for Blackstaff everyday, a symbol of jewelry and claim over him from Mystra so clearly on display, with none of Biern's own work or memory on his person, burned like lead in his heart. He'd grown up with the knowledge that when someone held great importance in your life, you made them a bead or piece of jewelry, or commissioned one from a Master, as a physical representation of the bond between you.

Biern had yet to give such pieces to any of his dear friends and party that he would now consider as close to family as his lost one.

And, of course, his fiancée was included among this list.

It is nobody’s fault but Biern's own really, finding himself unable to form the words needed to bridge the cultural gap between what felt like second nature to himself, and what must seem possessive to his friends.

That is a rather unkind thought, he immediately acknowledges. 

Yes, his friends, and his fiancée, would be kind if he explained himself. They would certainly accept the offerings happily even without explanation if he simply told them that it was important to him.

"What has you making such a long face?" A familiar voice came from the entrance of his study, and Biern glanced up, subtly closing the journal to hide his shame under the pretense of giving his fiancée his full attention. Gale was smiling, still in his professor's robes, the chalk dustings on the thigh of the robe visible from where Gale would wipe his hands off during lecture.

Biern felt his heart swell with a peculiar fondness.

"Simply thinking of designs for someone of importance," Biern said, and Gale's brows raised with surprise.

"You've decided to begin accepting clients?" Gale asks, walking into the study now and standing across from Biern, leaning over the desk to examine the many beads, rings and earrings strewn about for inspiration. Gale had never seen Biern properly at work, their time on the path not allowing for much time at all for Biern to do any proper jewel smithing as he is known for. The exception being occasionally carving beads from wood alongside Halsin.

Despite never seeing him properly at work, Gale often recounts with wonder the intense look in Biern's eyes from when he'd been working at the Adamantine Forge, or when he'd examine looted jewelry with a careful eye by the campfire at night and explain to Gale the different kinds of rubies or metals used, how they were cut and the craftsmanship, or lack thereof, behind the pieces.

"Something of the sort, yes, though the lack of practice has clearly worn on my abilities," Biern admits, and Gale hums, glancing at the journal pushed aside.

"I may have yet to see your work up close, but from the little I've been able to gleam from our talks, I'm certain your abilities have not rusted quite so terribly as you pretend," Gale says, leaning over the desk to plant a kiss to Biern's lips, Gale's scratchier beard tickling at Biern's lips. He pulls away after a few breathless seconds, smile tender as he looks down at Biern, both of them a right mess in their own way.

Speaking of which-

"Change out of those dusty robes of yours," Biern grumbles, and Gale laughs. He pulls away in a manner that is bewilderingly tempting, dusting his hands down the robe in the exact same spot that the white chalk streaks find themselves. Biern raises a brow, and Gale gives a sheepish smile.

"Care to join me in the dining room?" Gale asks, and Biern glances once more at the journal, abandoned ideas scattered across the pages as they are in his mind.

Only then, he glances up to answer Gale and his eyes catch on the earring, the delicate piece gently caressing Gale's hair and neck as it sways, the light gold glint of the metal and shine of the diamond centered in it catching the light just perfectly. 

Then, he turns his gaze back to the journal, his abandoned quill sitting in the half-emptied inkpot with splotches of black making a line from the inkport to where the journal had been. 

It would do him some good to step away from his work for a moment, but seeing that piece of jewelry, it fills Biern with such a hideous reaction that Gale does not deserve from his beloved.

He does not deserve the things that Biern may say were he to let his emotions slip.

"Amrâlimê, perhaps I could join you at a later time in the evening," Biern begins to say, and because he is no coward, he turns to fully look at Gale as he says this, barely tolerating the look of disappointment that flashes across his fiancée's expression. It is a rare day that Biern will turn down dinner with Gale.

In fact, oftentimes the roles are reversed, with Biern convincing and tempting Gale away from his lesson plans and grading to come and eat something homemade, courtesy of Biern's very own cooking talents. None of them goes hungry for lack of good food, at the very least. 

“Ah, of course that’s alright, I mean- I should’ve assumed. You did just inform me that you have a client of some importance that you are attempting to create a piece for, but- Well, yes of course it’s alright. I’ll just- I’ll bring food up for you?” Gale asks, and Biern nearly caves then. Damned his fiance and his endearing and pitiful ways. 

"If that's alright with you," Biern questions, and Gale nods once, then again after a beat.

 "Of course it is, you're entitled to your own studies," He reassures, sounding more certain now. Before he closes the door to Biern's study, he flashes a smile, more sincere than Biern truly deserves at the moment, before shutting it all too gently.

Biern sighs, dropping his forehead into his palm, dragging it down his face and rubbing at his eyes for a brief moment. Then, he hovers a hand over the journal. It would be wise to step away from his work for a moment, but he finds that when he ponders on the thought, the idea of going downstairs for a dinner he'd rejected with great difficulty pleases him even less. 

He opens the journal again on his most recent sketches, staring at every sketch with perplexion, and admittedly, though he'd never tell his previous teachers, a mild disgust. What use is this skill he's worked so hard to acquire if he cannot even create a piece for his most beloved.

He sighs, picking up the quill he'd abandoned on the desk to leak ink into the wood, dipping it into the inkpot once more before beginning his work once more.

__________________

He is going to hurl this journal in the common room’s fire, and then, once every page has been thoroughly burned to microscopic ash, he will chuck its remains into the latrine and watch with sickening delight as it's forever lost to the world with the rest of the city's waste.

He huffs to himself, standing up with more aggression than the situation should truly warrant, the chair scraping along the floor with an ugly screech. He glances to the window, frown deepening as he notices the time of night. It is later than he would have liked, preferably joining Gale in the earlier evening rather than middle of the night. The plate of food Gale had brought up for him was emptied, his fiances cooking too 

Biern does not waste any time, making his way to the door, barely sparing the journal a glance. It isn't uncommon for Gale to have strange hours of sleep, the hours varying depending on the projects and studies he's set his mind to that week, or the grading he has to complete. Biern finds himself often following Gale's own schedule, since Biern has decided to take time to properly rest after the events that led them here. 

Biern makes his way downstairs into the common room and finds Gale on the loveseat, head leaned forward with glasses askew, drool sliding down his chin and a book lazily clutched in one hand, thumb bookmarking his most recent page and at risk of falling to the floor. Bierns heart clenches, both in regret at making Gale wait for him, but also at the lovely sight of his fiance so vulnerable and tender. The fire has dimmed to embers, the room already cooling with the surrounding ocean air. 

"Oh Amrâlimê," Biern murmurs, approaching with quiet steps. He sweeps a hand through Gale's waves, the half-knot coming easily undone as he lets his fingers pass through the brown locks. Gale does not even stir, and Biern can't help a smile from forming despite the growing pit of guilt settling in his stomach.

He pinches the bridge of Gale's glasses, carefully sliding them off and folding them, pulling the book lightly clutched in Gale's grasp and placing the glasses inside to bookmark the page, setting it on the side table that holds a half empty cold cup of tea, and another untouched cup beside the teapot.

Biern, with great restraint, attempts to end any thoughts of self-flagellation at this revelation, a clear sign of Gale's waiting on him with patience and care. He is already in his sleepwear, the dressing gown that Shadowheart had sent as a gift a few weeks past, a baby blue cotton with deep sapphire threading along the seams, complementing Gale's complexion wondrously. 

He leans down and, without much difficulty, lifts his betrothed, tucking him comfortably against himself and leaning his head gently onto his shoulder. Their difference in height had once made this a clumsy effort, but as time has passed and Gale has fallen asleep in his study and other likely places of their home, Biern has found a rhythm that barely stirs his partner anymore. It is still an effort to not make his feet drag along the floor, but Biern is just strong enough to hold him higher, and Gale is thankfully flexible enough to fold into Biern without injury. 

He walks the two to their bedroom, gently nudging the already cracked door open, and he guides Gale into bed. Gale barely stirs, so Biern permits himself the luxury of pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, lingering for a moment and tucking a blanket around his partner, careful to tuck it under his chin and tuck it around him, aware that his partner will wake from the cold air otherwise.

He steps away for a moment, hesitating at the edge of the bed for a moment, the responsibility of cleaning up the living room for his beloved pulling against the selfish want of getting ready for bed himself and tucking himself against Gale's side and falling into his own slumber.

Eventually, the guilt of having left Gale to do the chores earlier wins out, and he shuffles out of the room. He closes the door with a soft creak, leaving it once again cracked. Tara enjoys wandering in and out of the tower, occasionally spending entire days in the tower and other times with Morena Dekarios. Thus, no room in their home ever has the door fully shut lest they are doing more unseemly activities not meant for wandering Tara eyes. 

Biern makes quick work of the dishes, making a quick detour to grab the dish from his own study as well. Once they are dried and put away, teapot and cups included, he makes his way back to their bedroom, body and mind weary from what feels like an unending day. He gently nudges the door open, and startles faintly at finding Gale sitting up, eyes barely squinted open to try and see their rooms intruder through the darkness. Biern has no such difficulty seeing, and takes pity.

"Sorry if I woke you," Biern says quietly, approaching and pushing himself slightly up onto the bed to give Gale a quick pacifying kiss. Their bed is at a human’s height, the two having had lenghty debates about changing the bedframe to lower it for further ease for Biern to crawl in. Gale had insisted about simply purchasing a new one, while Biern had protested with mention of Gale's knees likely having difficulty to get up from so low every morning. Eventually, after Biern esxplained multiple times that it was simply inconvenient and not actively hurtful to his health as it would be for his fiance, Gale reluctantly let the matter drop.

He leans in to give Gale a quick pacifying kiss. He returns the kiss with ease, eventually pulling away to squint at him blearily. He reaches up and grabs Biern's sleeve.

"Come to bed," He says, rather demandingly, and Biern huffs an amused chuckle.

"Let me change into my sleepwear," Biern says, and Gale hums to acquiesce, letting go and leaning back against the headboard, eyes drifting shut once Biern steps out of view. He changes quickly, aware that Gale is dozing rather than laying for a proper rest because of Biern. Luckily his home wear is much less elaborate than his outdoor wear, and it takes barely a moment to change clothes. He chances a quick glance at the mirror, hesitating on undoing the braids in his hair and putting the beads aside to be braiding back into his beard tomorrow.

Then, he glances to Gale, who's putting in a mighty effort to stay awake, and decides that just for tonight he can be without. He will simply take extra care tomorrow morning. 

So, he goes to his side of the bed, stepping up onto the stool beside the bed for more ease. He doesn't need it to get into bed, but it makes Gale happy to hear and see him use it and not expend the extra effort. Biern crawls into the bed, and Gale grumbles and turns over, sinking further down into the bed and rolling over to Biern's side, pressing into his partner’s ever warm body. Biern lays his cheek gently on Gale's head, observing his partner for a moment. He curls an arm around Gale, reminiscent of the protective hold he'd do while in their tents on their journey, though his grip has lost some of the scared and desperate clench to it.

Gale quickly falls into slumber, and Biern follows not long afterward his breathing evens out, not even realizing when his eyes have closed.

__________________

The following morning, Biern has pulled himself out of bed when the sun begins to peek through the window. In an effort to allow Gale some more rest, he partially closes the curtains. He shuffles around their bedroom quietly, not bothering to change into his day clothes just yet. Gale has morning lectures, though afterwards Biern is meant to join him at the Market not far from Blackstaff Tower.

Gale has asked him before if he wishes to join him at the academy, or even to meet him there so that they can perform the walk to the Market together, but Biern always declines. There's an uncomfortable, skin crawling feeling at the idea of being perceived by his partners, students and coworkers.

It is, of course, no secret that Biern lives with Gale, nor are their travels together secret. It could hardly remain so anyways, with being the heroes of Baldur's Gate, which brings quite a bit of attention upon them. Luckily, here in Waterdeep, the attention is more passive and theoretical, unlike the citizens of Baldur's Gate, who could quite easily point Biern out in a crowd among one of their little misfit gang of heroes.

It has happened many times that Biern has had to sidestep conversations of the happenings in Baldurs Gate, still a large topic of discussion even months past the events. He wishes to not bring that kind of attention upon himself, nor his name, and he'd made this clear when Gale had mentioned taking up a position at Blackstaff as a Professor in the art of Illusion magic.

Gale had seemed confused at the request, but had readily agreed to not bring up his name directly, both as his partner and as the leader of their party. Thus, the identity of the leader of their group has remained relatively secret, at least for the time being. Biern loathes the title, the pressure of it all too much a reminder of past mistakes made under his command. 

Biern begins to undo the braids in his hair first, gently taking out the beads braided in as well, the few of which remain at the very least. He brushes with practiced ease, gently placing them in the opened box beside the mirror meant just for them. He begins applying some oil to his waves and curls, and he leaves his hair out like this for a moment, and begins to do the same to his beard. 

His beard and hair have both reached a considerable length. His beard reaches just below his chest, and his hair reaches well past his waist, though he ensures to maintain it to just that length. He is careful to remain well-groomed, cracks and broken strands quickly taken care of, though he takes great care to not let his hair get to that point.

He feels the familiar disconnect of his magic as he removes the last bead, his holy symbol held within the small object, much more unassuming than the swords and shields some other Paladins he has met choose as their focus. Although, other Paladins were admittedly quite rare to encounter, so he doesn't have a vast sample size to compare himself to. 

He allows his hair to remain loose for the time being, closing the box with care and stepping out to make his way to their kitchens. He chances a quick glance to the sun which is still steadily rising, and decides that he can allow Gale to continue his rest. Despite the wizards unsteady sleep schedule, he tends to rise when he must to begin tackling the day, so Biern is not overly concerned with needing to rouse him.

Biern arrives in the kitchen, and he finds Tara lounging on the kitchen's island, food already laid out to be cooked. She is carefully positioned to be soaked in the sun, wings flared out and eyes closed, a content look on her face, purrs rumbling from deep in her chest.

"Good morning, Mister Brightforge" Tara says, opening a single eye to observe him. She is quite well aware that his proper honorific is Master, though for Biern's own reasons, he does not correct. He is not quite so stuffy that he insists to be addressed as Master for anything, and he is well aware, thanks to Gale, that Tressym's are rather peculiar creatures.

Though that may simply be Tara, it is hard to tell. 

"Good morning," he returns gruffly, then makes his way around the island, "thank you for setting out the ingredients Tara".

"Of course Biern," she responds, and then stretches languidly, turning over though not standing to observe. Biern puts on his apron, a gift from Gale once they'd moved to the tower. It's a rich and deep red, though it lacks the embroidery and threadwork that Biern is used to from dwarven made items that marks a personalized touch. Biern did not comment on that, instead being grateful for the fact that Gale had seen it and thought of him.

He has the time to make a more elaborate breakfast, having woken a bit earlier than usual. Despite Tara's preparation of the usual spices, bread and eggs pulled out, he grabs at other ingredients and dishes to set out for some extra effort, both as thanks and as an apology for leaving his love last night. He ties up his hair into a quick but secure bun, and does a quick and clumsy braid with his beard so that it does not risk dragging into his preparations.

The kitchen has many stools placed in deliberate places so as to not make Biern need to drag a single stool across the kitchen at every step of the cooking process. One is in front of the stove, at just the perfect height and length so that Biern can cook, but also so that the oven can be fully opened without difficulty. The same applies to cupboards and shelves strewn about, and even the herbs hung to dry have been brought down from the top edge of the window to instead be pinned at the bottom of it.

Biern is working quickly and deliberately, chopping fruits and mixing ingredients from memory, measuring with his memory and eye. 

"What a lovely vision to bear witness to at such an early hour," comes a familiar voice from behind him, voice deep and appreciative. Biern turns over a crepe, feeling a faint and apparent blush rise to his cheeks at the compliment. He coughs into his shoulder, turning to see Gale watching him with evident lovesickness. He's already in his teacher's robes and groomed for the day, hair brushed and beard trimmed.

Biern has been subtly hinting that he should grow it out just a bit more, but between Tara's fierce dislike of it and Biern's wish for it to be longer, Gale has decided to keep the peace by keeping it at its current length. 

"A lovely morning to you as well Mister Dekarios," Tara cuts in wryly, and Gale offers an awkward smile to her. Biern laughs softly, and that same look is aimed at him again, and Biern can only do so much when faced with it, so he turns back to putting in the last of the batter in the pan, ears turning pink.

"And a lovely morning to you as well Tara, happy to have you pay us a visit," Gale offers sincerely, and Tara licks at her paw for a moment before nodding to him. Biern flips over the crepe and Gale scratches Tara behind the ear before making his way to Biern, looking at the various plates with wide eyes.

"What's the occasion?" 

"That I woke up early," Biern says simply, ignoring the squeezing in his chest as he puts the last crepe in the pile. He turns off the stovetop, and turns to face Gale who's leaning into his space, a knowing and grateful look in his eyes. 

"Yes, of course," Gale allows, though his tone makes it incredibly clear that he understands what Biern truly intended by doing this. He leans down for a kiss to Biern's temple, one arm slinking around his waist to squeeze him closer. Biern valiantly ignores the butterflies that burst in his stomach. With one final squeeze, Gale pulls away and begins to grab the plates and bowls already strewn on the counters, going to set the table. 

Biern takes off his apron, the object thoroughly dirtied thanks to the extra effort he's put in. He hangs it up next to Gale's deeper blue one, his own hook much lower up the wall. 

Biern reaches for a smaller bowl he'd put into the icebox early, the scent of it mildly nauseating as he makes his way back to the table.

"Thank you my dear, for this grand breakfast," Gale says when Biern arrives at the table. Gale has permitted himself to fill up their plates with food and glasses with water, the liquid cooled with a whisper of Gale's magic. 

"This can barely be considered grand, but thank you," Biern responds humbly, sending a private little smile to Gale, which makes his partner beam. Biern places down the bowl he's holding beside himself, if only to save Gale from the smell of it.

"Tara," Biern calls, and her head perks up, blinking slowly at him. He waves a hand to gesture her towards them, and she tilts her head before taking a leap from the counter, gliding over to the table. She lands with a practiced grace, observing Biern.

Before she can open her mouth to question him, she seems to catch a whiff of the bowl, and her tongue unconsciously slips out, inhaling deeply.

"Oh Mister Brightforge, you really shouldn't have," Tara says, though she sounds much too pleased to truly mean it. She trots over to the bowl of mashed fish meat that Biern had prepared the morning previous when she'd been at Morena's. He's poured in some goat milk as well, and even put some pureed lamb to taste.

"I know you prefer to hunt for your own meals, but I thought that this would be an acceptable occasion," Biern offers, and Tara licks her lips once more.

"Once in a while cannot hurt, thank you," she says before beginning to dig in with barely restrained vigor. Gale chuckles, allowing one of his feet to gently nudge to Biern's own. He offers a grateful smile, and Biern feels a familiar heat burn at his cheeks.

"Let's eat, you have classes to attend to within the hour," he huffs, and begins to dig into the plate Gale had made for him. Gale chuckles and begins to eat his own without comment. In the early morning he's typically less verbose, so Biern doesn't pay it much mind.

He allows himself to nudge Gale's foot as well though, refusing to meet Gale's eye, though he feels the amused gaze set upon him, but the moment passes without word. Eventually, the crepes, fruit, eggs and sausages have been eaten to the best of their ability, Biern's own appetite allowing him to have a majority of it, though he saves a majority of the fruit for Gale.

When he finally leans back from his second serving of food to a now scraped plate, Gale is leaning back, seeming equally as content with the meal, which satisfies a small, primal part of Biern. During their travels before the Shadowrealm they had all been able to eat with some regularity, Astarion included once his affliction had been revealed, but everyone had lost quite a bit of weight when in the Shadowrealm due to rats finding their way into a majority of the supplies.

Before they'd arrived in Baldur's Gate, Gale's ribs had begun to become visible, to Biern's great distress. His own muscle mass and chub had begun to also wane, but despite this, he'd attempted to push more food onto Gale. In doing this, he'd upset the man, who'd been really exasperated once he realized. He'd insisted, under no uncertain terms, that Biern not give up any of his own food for Gale's sake, or anyone else’s for that matter. Everyone needed to be as healthy as they could be in this accursed realm, and Biern having smaller portions would only weaken him, and thus the group at large.

Biern had begrudgingly allowed it, though clearly still upset about it, he hadn't argued with the logic of it. Everyone needed to be as healthy as they could under the circumstances, and knowing their group, it would not have surprised him if they'd all started to push more food into one another's plates to forgo their own meals if only to make a point.

Biern, despite knowing the hour is getting close to when Gale should be heading out, still takes a moment to appreciate the view. Gale's eyes are closed, the robes around him not tied around his waist yet, revealing the beige blouse that still has its top strings undone, barely concealing the remains of the deactivated orb and some rather attractive chest hair.

Biern allows his eyes to wander up the scar on his neck, dark hair flowing nicely around his neck and pushed behind his shoulder, and-

The earring.

Right, of course.

Biern suddenly stands, the chair scrapping an ugly sound. Tara hisses and jumps in surprise. Gale startles, arms tensing and eyes snapping open in surprise, mouth agape as he watches Biern make a mighty fool of himself, gathering up dishes and eyes looking anywhere but his partner.

"It is nearly time for you to make your way to your lecture, I will take care of the dishes," Biern says, voice too rushed to be convincing.

"Biern?" Gale says, confusion and concern melting in his voice. Tara bounces off the table, her own bowl also licked clean, and so Biern picks up that one as well.

"You should get ready," Biern says, more forcefully than he intends, and in surprise at his own ferocity he looks to Gale, who seems nothing short of devastated. Biern stops for a moment, hand hovering over the plate of leftover crepes.

"No, sorry- I didn't..." Biern starts, finding himself falling short of an appropriate explanation. He glances at the time on the wall behind Gale, but Gale rises, hiding his view. His face has settled, concern still whirling, but a stern determination beginning to bloom.

"What's happened dear?" Gale asks, a tender note to his voice, and Biern worries at his lips for a moment, grasping for words that aren't coming, for a reason that conveys emotions he hasn't even begun to process. As Biern thinks, Gale waves a hand, and the dishes gripped tightly in Biern's own begin to float into the kitchen. 

Tara has made her way into the kitchen as well, her own magic activated as well, the rest of the remaining dishes on the table being guided away, and Biern finds himself floundering, anxiety crawling up into his throat and choking him of his words, drowning out any sensible action. He takes a deep breath, ignoring the shakiness that rattles in his chest. Gale finds his way to Biern, and he places a hand on Biern's chest, slow and tentative, allowing for Biern to pull away if he needs. 

Biern allows the touch, staring resolutely at his chest, daring not to let his eyes wander any further up per fear of the reaction it may draw out of him. 

"I apologize for my outburst," Biern begins, and finds Gale's hand to be soothing. There is no direct contact with his skin, but the pressure is enough. Taking this as permission, Gale allows the other hand to grip at Biern's shoulder, holding with a firm but not restrictive touch. If Biern wished, he could pull away, and Gale would let him.

He stays where he is.

"It happens to the best of us, of that I can assure you, so know that your apology is accepted, if hardly necessary," Gale offers, and Biern sighs.

"I'm simply," he reaches for words that would not be a lie, "stressed about the project I have been working on, though it is not fair to let it bleed into my treatment of you," Biern admits, biting back further explanation. The time is truly coming close now, and he simply wishes to apologize rather than explain it all.

"This is true, though I have my own fair share of frustrated long nights, it would not be fair of me to begrudge you your own my dear," Gale says, and Biern feels that anxiety begin to quell, though it does not fully dissipate, "perhaps you could put the project aside for now? I'm aware this is the pot calling the kettle black, but stepping away from it may allow you to come back to it with a refreshed mind," Gale offers, and Biern frowns.

"I have stepped away for many months, I do not believe I could be anymore refreshed than I am. In fact, I do believe some of my skills have atrophied," Biern grumbles, and Gale makes vague noise that he can't quite discern the meaning behind. Gale opens his mouth, but Biern speaks before he can utter a sound, "truly this time, you will be late," Biern says, and Gale glances to the time behind him and curses under his breath. He pauses, a scowl forming before it smooths out.

"I can miss a lecture or two if I must," Gale offers, and then after a brief pause, "if you want me here, I will stay," he adds, and his voice is quieter now. Biern smiles then, bringing his own much larger hand up to Gales and grabbing it, holding onto it as he pulls the hand away from his chest gently.

"I know, but I can assure you it will not be necessary. I will seek out some second opinions while you are at work," Biern reassures, and then, because Gale still seems as though he may still make the executive call to remain at home, "I will meet with you at the Market later. It will give me time to work on my project and speak to others. I will update you on my progress then, alright?" Biern offers, and his voice quiets at the end, because the offer fills him with both relief and anxiety at once, which is ridiculous.

It has always helped him to talk to Gale through the problems he faces, his fiance's keen and intelligent mind providing solutions and ideas that help inform Biern's own. But now that the problem is decidedly revolving around Gale, and Biern's own incompetence in pinpointing what is wrong, he does not wish to talk about it. 

Still, maybe he could simply speak vaguely of his progress on the piece under the pretense of it being confidential, and he does intend to seek a second opinion, though from whom he has yet to decide.

Gale observes him for a moment, glancing between the time and Biern, who is feeling better than he did a few minutes prior.

"Alright, if you are certain. Do not hesitate to send for me if anything comes up," Gale says, and Biern nods, finally daring to look above his clavicle, locking eyes with him.

This, of all things, seems to soothe Gale, who's shoulders drop and muscles untense once the connection is made. Biern smiles, eyes leaning to the right side of his face.

"I love you," Biern offers simply, and Gale, who is often the first to offer these three words, begins to grin. It is still subdued, but considering Biern's outburst, it can only be expected. Gale leans down, pressing a quick and fleeting kiss to his lips, giving one final squeeze to Biern's arm before pulling away fully.

"And I, you" Gale returns, and, as though he can't help himself, leans down for one final kiss before heading for the front door with hurried steps, finally showing the expected urgency as he grasps for the bag that he'd thankfully left at the door the day previous.

"I love you!" He calls out, and Biern can't help but laugh then, genuine and light.

"Go to your class, you exasperating man!" Biern calls, and Gale laughs before closing the door with a sense of finality.

Biern feels his shoulders slump, glancing over to Tara who is giving him a sidelong glance. She is, wondrously, doing dishes with her magic, though she is at a careful distance from the sinks water as she does it.

"Thank you Tara, for the privacy and the dishes," he says, softer now as he approaches. She sniffs, tilting her head up to him.

"Of course, Mister Brightforge. It seems there has been quite a bit on your mind, and this is the least I can do, after what you've done for our Gale," she says, and Biern hums non-commitally, still not quite believing that particular part. 

Gale made his own choices, and saved himself. With the help of friends, of course, but it was his choice nonetheless.

Biern rolls up his sleeves, and Tara tsks at him.

"For today let me handle these, alright? I happened to overhear that you have other people to visit for this project of yours," Tara says, and Biern allows one of his brows to raise slowly in question. Tara allows the silence for a moment ,before saying with a bit more ferocity, "I can only drown out so much talking before some of it slips through. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that I gave the illusion of privacy. Now shoo! Off to your work you go. It will be a welcomed change of pace to have you out of this tower," she says, turning her head away from him to once again focus on the chore.

So, Biern leaves for the bedroom to prepare for the day.

__________________

Biern finds himself going to The Quagging Quaggoth, a dwarven-owned tavern only a mere few streets away from their house. In the months that they've been here, Biern has become somewhat well acquainted with the owners and some other regular clients there. He never visits in the evenings, when the fishermen come in to drink the rest of their night away and the crowd becomes rowdy. The songs, jovial and loud, are a faint reminder of home, but a reminder that hurts more than it soothes, so he tends to return to the tower before dinnertime even arrives. 

"Ah, Biern! What a delight to see you today, it's been awhile," Margoth greets when he enters. She is also a Gold Dwarf, and happens to be one of the owners he is acquainted with. Her husband tends to awaken closer to the afternoon, often handling the late night and early morning crowds while his wife rests. Margoth has dark brown hair that goes to her shoulders in thick and full curls, the left side of her head braided tightly against her scalp and many beads braided in. She has a shorter beard, not long enough to braid more than a few beads into, so she has the bead as a symbol of her husband braided into the center, and the smaller beads of her two children who've since moved from home on either side of the husband's. 

"It has," Biern says, sitting himself up at the bar, pulling himself up with his arms. The floor on the other side of the bar is elevated for the dwarven and shorter staff to work with ease, but the rest of the tavern meant for clients is built with tallfolk in mind.

"What brings you here today? Not that I don't appreciate the social call, of course, but you appear troubled," Margoth mentions casually, taking a bite of the breadroll clutched in her hand. Biern hums, pulling out the journal.

"I have been attempting to create a piece of jewelry for my betrothed, a late courting gift," Biern admits, and Margoth's brows raise to her hairline in surprise. To be engaged before a courting gift is even given is rarely heard of. He continues on, flipping the journal open to his first two pages of sketches, before sliding the journal over for her to thumb through the nearly other dozen pages, with different metals, gems and shapes listed beside the drawings to give ease of vision when looking upon the black ink. 

"None of these feel quite fitting for him, and it has been driving me mad," he adds.

"Huh," she says, thumbing through the pages with careful deliberation. Biern allows her the time to examine every piece, knowing that every single one falls short. Eventually, she lands on the last page and frowns.

"What is it?" He inquires, nervous.

"Well, it is simply that these are all... earrings? Not an uncommon courting gift of course, but if you find that none of these elaborate and well-thought pieces are quite fitting, perhaps you could venture into other pieces of jewelry? Unless he's expressed a preference, of course," she adds quickly, and Biern frowns, index tapping on the wood of the bar.

"He wears an earring already, the symbol of Mystra," he says, and he watches as Margoth smiles confusedly, head tilting slightly.

"You have told me he is a wizard, and being a professor at Blackstaff, he must be an accomplished one at that. It is hardly surprising that he would wear a symbol of his craft on his person, though admittedly a bit strange for a non-dwarf to do, but not uncommon," she adds, seeming thoughtful. She takes another bite from her breadroll, eyes tilting back down to the sketchbook.

Ah, he has misled her.

"He was Mystra's chosen," he adds, and jumps in surprise when Margoth begins to cough on her piece of bread, eyes bulging and hand slapping down on the bar. He rises slightly in his chair, but Margoth holds up a finger and reaches over for a glass, quickly filling it with water and taking quick gulps from it.

"So-" another cough, "sorry. I didn't mean to have such an aggressive reaction, but- Gale of Waterdeep is your betrothed? It-" her eyes widen suddenly, and she slaps a hand against her forehead, and Biern can't help but wince at the sheer force she uses behind it, "Oh my goodness," she declares, both marveling at this fact and solemn at once, and Biern gives her a sidelong glance.

"Are you well?" he asks instead, and she begins to nod, then seems to reconsider, and shakes her head.

"No. Well- It's simply that I did not quite connect you and your wizard to Gale's return. I care not very much for magic, mind you, but it still came as a shock," she says, and she seems to have genuinely calmed, and Biern feels relief that she does not look at him differently, with that pity or contempt that some have when they realize just who he is betrothed to. 

Either one of those looks implies that they do not believe he will ever live up to Mystra, and he does not intend to.

It is never something he has been able to verbalize, unable to explain that if he were to try to live up to a Goddess's love, he would be a worse man for it. 

"I still don't quite understand why this is so difficult. It is not uncommon to wear reminders of one's past loves amongst our kind, and it is still a symbol of his own Mastery, in his own human way," She says, and the last bit seems almost to be said to herself. 

Biern frowns, allowing silence to reign for a moment as he processes this.

He indeed harbors no ill will towards Mystra, not in a way that one may be jealous of a past lover, at the very least. Gods will play the part of Gods, and this means that they play by different rules, different emotions and different standards.

He has his feelings about the age at which he was recruited and became her Chosen, but he keeps those to himself. What has passed is past. 

"The fact that he and I are together cannot be shared openly, your husband notwithstanding," Biern says, instead of his swirling thoughts, and Margoth frowns slightly, but nods readily enough. She is no stranger to secrets shared between her and her patrons, nor is she to keeping them, Biern can attest.

"Have I helped shed light on your courting gift struggles, at the very least?" She asks, closing the journal with care and passing it back over. Biern keeps it closed in front of him, taking the time to think about how he wishes to answer.

"It brings a different light to it that I did not fully consider," he admits, and she smiles at that, taking another bite of her breadroll, lifting up the last piece in her hand almost in toast.

"I'm glad I could be of use then," She says, and this matter is not settled quite yet, but Biern has to chew through his thoughts.

"Could I have some tea, please?" He asks, and Margoth nods before making her way to the back of the tavern. He pulls out his quill and inkpot, refilled before his departure.

Then, the hours begin to fly by. He spends quite a bit of time bent over his journal and being a general nuisance to Margoth with the amount of times he asked for her input. Eventually, as he drew, he moved onto drawings of necklaces, and when those fell as bit short as well, he began to, shyly and while hiding the pages with his arm, drawing out different beads he could give to Gale.

That had quickly evolved into Biern drawing the least amount of sketches he has yet, but with the most amount of detail and the most amount of excitement.

Then, when Margoth asks him if he's finally settled on a proper design, he responds with a smile and a nod. He did not show her the sketch, and, knowing that he has found the proper courting gift at last, she does not ask to see it.

He walks out of the tavern, more jovial than he has been in the past while.

There is still the matter of explaining beads to him, the meaning of a courting gift and just how backwards Biern has been doing this every step of the way. It is not a conversation that Biern is ready to have quite yet, but in the time it takes for him to find his words, he will surely find something that sounds reasonable.

__________________

"There you are!" Gale calls, finally catching sight of Biern holding a wicker basket that Margoth had allowed him to borrow, and it holds a lunch of sandwiches for himself and Gale. Biern gives him a wave, and Gale deftly avoids the crowds beginning to fill in for the lunch rush.

There is chalk on his robes once more, and the sleeve of it is singed from flames. The earring gleams, as it always has, but Biern finds that the ugly feeling that has been growing in the past few days has been substantially diminished. 

Biern holds out a sandwich to Gale, and he takes it with a grateful smile, leaning down to press a kiss to Biern's lips, which he returns gladly, before quickly pulling back, well aware of Biern's hesitation with public affection but never being quite able to stop giving affection as a greeting.

"How you manage to cause such a mess of your robes as a professor of illusion continues to astound me," Biern says in lieu of a different greeting, grabbing gently at Gale's arm to observe the burned fabric. Gale gives a sheepish smile.

"I could perhaps consider a transfer into the study of conjuration instead," Gale offers jokingly, allowing Biern the time to examine the damage before letting his arm drop when Biern lets go. He takes a bite of his sandwich, letting out a pleased moan at the taste.

"Whatever satisfies that unending curiosity and drive of yours," Biern offers, knowing better than to push Gale in any particular direction. Gale can learn or teach whatever he wishes. 

"Maybe in a few years from now, if I manage to tire of these studies," Gale offers, and now he's observing Biern with that keen eye of his, and Biern lets him, knowing he's looking for signs of Biern's earlier unwellness. He seems to find what he needs, because after a moment his gaze softens, and he takes another bite of that sandwich.

"Speaking with that second opinion of yours seems to have done you some good," 

"It has," Biern admits readily, "there is still much to figure out, but I have a clearer mind about it all."

"I'm glad to hear it, there is nothing quite like finding clarity on a project that has stumped you," Gale says, nodding with the severity of someone who understands exactly what it is like. He nods to himself, and goes to turn to begin their errands, but Biern quickly speaks up, halting Gale in his tracks.

"I would like to give a proper apology for this morning as well. I don't want you to think that I am upset at you, or that I wish to banish your presence from our home," Biern explains, and, feeling vaguely winded, he continues, "I can assure you that I am not usually so disagreeable and miserable when working on most projects, at least not towards those in my surroundings. I don't wish for this to cause you fear with my returning to taking clients, or continuing to work on my craft," Biern explains, slowing his words to stress the importance behind them. They are in no particular rush, and he needs Gale to know this with certainty.

Gale blinks down at him, mouth having fallen open slightly throughout Biern's speech. When it is clear that Biern has said his piece, he starts to smile, and Biern warms under it. 

What he would do to have Gale continue smiling just like that.

"Oh my love, I appreciate the apology, but I can assure you the thought did not cross my mind. Even if you were a miserable lout when working on your projects, I have enough confidence in your character to not assume you would turn such behavior towards me. No, indeed, do perish the thought that I would ever think so low of you," Gale says, and Biern feels emotion begin to claw at the back of his throat and well in his eyes, but he bravely pushes it down.

Emotion such as that is reserved for their home, where it will not spark questions and curiosity of wandering eyes and open ears. 

"Something has been bothering you this past while, and until this morning, you have been steadfast in suppressing it. In fact, I would find myself rather grateful if you could unburden yourself upon me," Gale admits, and Biern feels some shame along with gratitude mixing. He had thought that he was more subtle about his troubles, but it isn't too surprising that Gale would notice, ever attentive and keen. 

It is also equally as unsurprising that he was so very graceful about it. 

"I will bring it up in due time, I simply must process it on my own first, to know what to say," Biern says finally, and Gale nods.

"Right, well, do keep it in mind, will you? Now, let's go about our errands my dear, unless you have something else you wish to mention?" Gale asks, and Biern shakes his head, and so they are off to gather groceries and other objects that may catch their eyes. 

Eventually, all of the sandwiches had been eaten and they had made their way through a good deal of the shopping, spending much too long by the scrolls and books. The lovesick and grateful look that Gale had given him when Biern had handed over the glasses he'd remembered to bring had warmed him all over, and made him more amenable to allowing Gale to spend perhaps too much coin on some new scrolls and books.

Everyone had a weakness, and this was one of Biern's. He could hardly be blamed for being besotted with such an intelligent man, especially when he looked like that.

It warmed him even more, knowing he was the one to bring such contentment to his betrothed. 

Then, Biern found himself drawn to the jewel seller that occasionally took up shop. Biern could hardly resist coming by to observe whenever he caught sight of them and their wares, ever changing due to the nature of their shop. 

"Ah! Master Biern, what a delightful surprise to have you stopping by once more," The deep-gnome, Purken, greeted in a jovial tone. They were standing on a chair behind their stand, and there was a stepping stool at the front of their table as well.

Biern nodded with a grunt, squinting down at the various wares before him. Gale also leaned over to look, though he had none of Biern's own intensity of course, simply sweeping the wares with an appreciative hum.

"Likewise Purken," Biern rumbled, and Purken, without wasting much time at all, quickly shoved a piece into his hand.

"I traded for this a ten-day ago, and would like for you to have a look at it, if you will. While I have my own keen eye of course, I was informed it was dwarven-made, though I was informed it's a second-hand item, and don't have quite enough expertise in that particular area to confirm if they were swindling me or not. Dwarven-made items are rarely sold by people other than, well, dwarves," Purken rambled, inhaling a deep breath at the end.

This happened nearly every time Biern swung by this particular stand. Biern had gruffly admitted to being a Master Jeweler to the gnome when the man had questioned about it, and the gnome had immediately seized the opportunity to make use of Biern's particular skills.

Biern had immediately bartered for an agreement, where any item he appraised or helped make a sale in, he would receive a percentage of commission on, and the gnome had gladly agreed. 

Also, that he would get a little discount on any particular items of interest. He very rarely bought from the stand, though occasionally he would find a gem of interest for specific projects, and purchase those. It was typically cheaper to buy the gem itself rather than the entire piece, but Biern was allowing himself this moreso as a method of entertainment rather than genuine work.

Biern took the piece of jewelry, fishing out his loupe with a frankly absurd magnifying lens in it. He begins to look at the thin necklace, the silver and thinness lending moreso to elven craft than dwarven. There are far and few Elven jewelers that focus on metals though, to Biern's understanding.

Thus, it wouldn't be absurd to assume this could have been an elven client to a Master Dwarf, especially as the piece seems to be of an older fashion, if the type of connections between the metals is an indication. 

Biern isn't quite skilled in the eras of fashion, especially among other races, but he'd worked in Baldur's Gate for enough years to get a vague grasp of some more common trends in certain decades and centuries, and this seems to be of a common fashion from two centuries ago, though it still remains a semi-common type of piece, specifically in the northern region.

The only reason he's able to recognize it at all is because most of elven imports were metal, which, despite the Great Rift having been quite closed off to outside trade at times, would send for the right price.

More importantly though, his ugshar had a few elven clients from the region that she would create pieces for. Not many of the elves were incredibly forthcoming about allowing an apprentice to work on their piece, so Biern largely did not work with Elven styles, but he had still studied it because it was his ugshar's craft.

He'd mostly worked with gnomes, halflings and dwarves during his apprenticeship, with the occassional human. It had been to his detriment, since the Spellplague had opened up dwarves to the rest of the world and forced them to displace across all of Faerun.

Biern, with a practiced mind, pushed the thought away.

The metal itself, which is silver, has a more strong quality to it than many elven jeweler's would've made it back in those days. To Biern's understanding, elven jewelers will make the mix of metals for the jewels, especially ones not worn on the hands such as rings, to have a lower percentage of copper to soften the metal and make it more delicate and easy to mold into the fluid shapes that their styles often call for.

This, of course, can affect the longevity of a piece, though elves are a rather dainty bunch who rarely seem to find themselves in hard skirmishes. The ones who would wear such pieces would likely do so for events, rather than casual wear, and under such care an Elven piece could hold up for quite some time.

A Master Dwarf does not have the same mentality, with longevity, for nearly all Mastery's, being a core component to attaining one's recognition and passing the exam. 

Upon gently pressing his nail into the metal, he senses that this does have an average amount of copper for a Dwarven made item.

Still, he looks for a faint mark or signature that would indicate this is a Dwarven Master's work, as many other races have skilled and attentive craftsmen at hand, and who happen to be much more forthcoming with working and trading with other races.

Not all Masters will have a signature, though a large majority do for ease of tracking the original family of a piece, were it to ever go missing.

Crafts are meant to last centuries after all. Most Masters worth their salt keep record of all of their pieces intended for clients, and thus the individual it belongs to, if ever there is legal dispute or questioning long past when the Master has made their way to Moradin's doors, to be reforged anew, if they so wish.

Then, in very faint and thin markings, he sees it. 

"This is dwarven craft, made by a master at that," Biern confirms, passing the piece back over. Purken beams, happily collecting the silver necklace.

"There is a faint stamped mark near its clasp, and on the opposing side of the clasp. I could not confirm what clan nor master it is from, but it's certainly dwarven-made, from before the Spellplague," Biern explains, trying very hard to keep it concise.

"Oh thank you Master Dwarf!" Purken says, tucking the piece into a velvet box and tucking it out of sight, now confirmed much too precious to leave out with the rest in such a crowded market.

"Anything else?" Biern grunts, and Purken blinks, before shaking his head quickly.

"No, no! That was quite enough, though do know that I still extend the same offer to purchase some of your wares were you to ever begin crafting again, or at the very least connect you to some clients of mine, for a fee of course" Purken says, smiling happily.

"No public projects for the moment," Biern sidesteps, tucking the loupe away safely into his breastpocket under his cloak. Then, remembering his dear and patient walking partner, he looks up sheepishly.

Gale looks down at him, an affectionate and wondering expression on his face, smile much too sincere for Biern to be able to handle.

"Do not look at me like that," Biern grumbles, feeling his ears beginning to turn pink, and Gale laughs, softer and quiet than usual, as though not wishing to draw attention to this moment, or break from it.

Biern gives a polite wave to Purken, who returns it with vigor, before beginning to walk away, trying to measure his steps too not seem too rushed and appear rude.

Gale falls into step beside him, not drawing his eyes away for more than a moment.

"It cannot be helped I'm afraid, when you look upon your work with such passion and resolve it simply makes me feel a certain type of way," Gale admits, with not nearly as much shame as the sentence should warrant, and Biern feels himself burn warmer.

He coughs, turning away to bring his attention back to the table of jewels, though it is moreso to keep some dignity to his already forsaken name whilst in public. Gale allows him to gain his bearings once more, a proud little grin forming on his face before looking forward. Once further from Purken's stall, Biern slows, allowing them both to walk at a more leisurely pace.

"Why is it that you decided to become a Master Jeweler?" Gale asks eventually, tilting his head down to Biern, a contemplative expression adorning his face. Biern grunts in response, lips pursing for a moment before meeting Gale's eyes, his fiance attentive and curious, brown eyes glinting with interest and care.

"Not that I do not care for your interest, but what makes you ask this now?" Biern inquires, an anxious flutter building in his chest, calloused thumb rubbing along the wicker baskets handle. 

"Well, magic was something I nearly felt born into, a part of the world that I could wield as I wished. Not with ease necessarily, but with more intuition than my peers. For you, it seems, it did not come to you so easily or so significantly," Gale says, then bites his lip, "not to say that it is not significant of course! Simply that you did not have the same attention brought to an innate talent- Ah, I am making a right mess of this, aren't I? Please do tell me to shove off if I'm being insulting," Gale says, nervously smiling and worry lines forming between his brows. Biern chuckles, his free hand finding Gale's and giving it a gentle pat.

"It is not insulting Amrâlimê, you observe correctly. I was not born with a particular talent in jewel smithing, no more than I was born with a talent in painting. It is simply something I have dedicated many years of my life too, honing a previously non-existent skill not out of an existing talent, but rather a sense of ambition," Biern explains, and Gale is watching with such rapt attention that Biern would almost feel shy if he wasn't the target of it so commonly from his partner.

"That is familiar to me, despite my younger self's predisposition to magic allowing my studies to be smoother than it would've been to me dedicating myself to any other studies," Gale admits, and Biern nods in agreement.

"I had no predisposition to it as you did the Weave, though I had an equal amount of encouragement to pursue it once it caught my interest. For us Gold Dwarves it's..." Biern pauses, realizing he is treading in waters he hasn't dared to touch too often, "well, jewelry can carry many meanings to us, as do most pieces of art that one may wear, whether it be on their skin or their person. One can become a Master in anything that someone may try their hand at, but jewelry is significant for many of us, as is the clothes and tattoos we adorn ourselves in," Biern admits, glancing up at Gale.

He doesn't interrupt, so Biern turns to look away before continuing.

"It was a captivating and delicate craft that felt personal to myself and the people I would create for. Every piece is made for its sentiment and the utility of bringing people together. My work symbolizes the often unexplainable connections between people, an irreplaceable piece that would likely outlast the person it was created for, and the person it was gifted from. I am unlikely to ever create a dedicated piece like it again, as to not demean the original intended of the first piece. I found I could not recreate that in such a meaningful way through other Masteries that were of interest to me," Biern says, voice softening near the end. He tilts his head up, and Gale is smiling, a vulnerable and fond expression adorning his way, brown doe eyes crinkled at the corners. 

"I could never imagine to have such a noble reason for my own craft," Gale says softly, and Biern feels his cheeks warm at the compliment.

"You did not need one, as it came to you as easily as it does for some to breathe," Biern says, and Gale shrugs, leaning down to press a quick peck to the crown of Biern's head.

"Perhaps, though it is still admirable,"

"As is your own innate talent with the Weave,"

"I am incredibly aware of that my dear heart, do not worry," Gale says, a cocky little smile forming, though Biern can still pinpoint that soft edge to it. Biern huffs still, shaking his head and speeding up his steps a bit more.

"It does not hurt to tell you every once in a while, though your head can only grow so big," Biern teases mildly, and Gale nods.

"I believe your compliments in particular can only make it grow twice as large," He says, and Biern laughs then, nudging Gale as they walk with a shake of his head. Gales expression turns contemplative again. 

"Could you teach me the meanings of jewelry to you, or the other outerwear you mentioned earlier, that is of importance to you and your people? I find myself floundering at times with how little I know of my own fiancé's origins and culture, and it makes me feel... ah, well, embarrassed to know so little of something of such great import," Gale admits, cheeks dusting a flattering pink, "I have attempted to find tomes on the subject of course, but most tomes are after the Spellplague, which I know isn't quite how you were raised,"

"Ah," Biern says, finding himself speechless for a moment, not that it is an uncommon occurrence when in the presence of his fiance. He knows Gale to be a curious man, though so far his attentions have often been dedicated to subjects of a magical nature. To have such curiosity turned to his person is a sensation he could surely drown in.

"I know you can be quite secretive, as are most dwarves I've met, and if you wish to wait until after marriage, or its consummation or whatever it is that you consider to be of import I understand, and of course I will not hold it against you," Gale rushes to say, and Biern, bewilderingly, feels tears begin to well in his eyes, throat feeling suddenly dry. Gale gaps for a moment, shocked, before panic begins to take him. 

"Whatever it is that I said, I would like to apologize my love- Oh no, oh goodness, let me-" Gale fumbles as Biern begins to cry in earnest, quiet sobs passing through his lips as his shoulders curl in, hugging the basket of books and scrolls to his chest. He closes his eyes then, curling his head to face the floor to hide from the shame of crying in public.

Then, there are unfamiliar murmured words in front of him, Gale's words faint and concentrated, with a telling wobble still.

Suddenly, he feels a gentle tug on his upper arm, pulling him forward, and then everything is much more quiet.

"Here we are my dear, just- ah, here-" Gales fretting voice comes back, sounding a bit distant, before Biern is gently guided by familiar hands. Biern wipes at his cheeks quickly, trying to wipe away evidence of his emotion, eyes barely peeking open in that brief second, only to find familiar wooden floors instead of the sand and stone of the street. Eventually, Biern is gently guided downwards, and in the familiar hands of his love he lets himself go down, falling onto the plush and adorned settee. 

"Please, whatever it is that has made you cry, banish it from your mind once you have informed me of the transgression and distress I have caused so I can make sure it never happens again," Gale says, grabbing at a blanket thrown over the side of the settee’s armrest and tucking it around Biern, the weight of the fabric making him sink further down.

At Gale's words, Biern begins to shake his head, releasing the basket of goods from his hands and allowing Gale to place it by his feet instead. He continues to rub at his eyes with his sleeve for a moment, and disgustingly, his nose as well. 

"No, it's-" Biern huffs out a breath to dislodge the pressure at the back of his throat, and Gale sits next to him, hand finding his thigh. Despite the comfortable seat, Gale feels tightly strung, as though ready to bounce away at any moment to retrieve anything that he may require. Biern takes a breath, air coming in uneven bouts, "I have simply been rather stressed about-" another sob, "our differences in upbringing in the past weeks," he admits, quietly and not without shame, daring not to lean into Gale.

"Oh," Gale says, and Biern continues, wishing to properly convey this ugly feeling in his chest, despite the relief that is coming in waves through him.

"It is sometimes difficult to imagine that I have such an amazing partner who would, without my say so, anticipates my needs and worries without my mentioning," Biern admits softlty, "and I believe the relief of your care and consideration made all of what I've been holding onto so tightly burst from me in a fit of unseemly emotion". 

"Let's not worry about that now," Gale says, clearly high-strung.

Biern takes a moment to acknowledge that it is rather distressing to have one's partner burst into a fit of tears after a curious and comforting inquiry. Gale, with a bit of hesitation, grabs for Biern’s arm and begins to lean him against his chest. When Biern follows the motions, trusting his partner wholly, Gale begins to lay down against the settee, arms wrapping around Biern and tucking him in more securely in the blankets grasp.

Once they are settled, Gale gently wipes and now drying tears, frown still present and the concerned dent between his brows having returned. Biern blows out a breath, allowing tension to drain from his own body, and delighting in the sensation of Gale's own responding in kind, both of them slumping further into the unending plush.

"'s just that I'm relieved," Biern murmurs, and Gale hums into his hairline, fingers beginning to comb through long dark hair with care, avoiding the beads and intricate braids, brown eyes focused on Biern’s back for a moment before meeting his gaze.

There is a sea of concern and sadness there, and Biern can nearly feel tears spring into his own eyes again from the mere thought of having caused such emotion in his fiance. They quiet down afterwards, and Biern hears Gale murmur something under his breath, waving the hand not tangled in his hair, and suddenly the light of the fireplace bursts up, the heat of it beginning to fill the room. 

Biern sighs and closes his eyes, letting himself listen to the faint heartbeat of his partner, attempting to take even breaths following his emotional outburst. Eventually, sleep begins to take him.

__________________

Without quite realizing the passage of time, he feels himself being jostled around with a clumsy but delicate touch, the heat under him moving away, and he encounters the warmth and scratchiness of whatever lays under him.

"Come on, my creaky old knees can do this much-" he hears whispered near his ear, rather aggressively, mind.

Then, he feels himself being lifted, with difficulty from what he can now pinpoint is his fiance, and he huffs to let his discontent at being moved from his comfortable seating be known.

"Yes, yes, I know, I am simply the worst. Your back and mine will be thankful for the change in the morning," Gale says, and Biern grumbles again, not quite knowing what he's trying to say but knowing it's in protest. Gale grunts, and begins to walk to their bedroom. 

Well, more accurately, if the sensation of vertigo is to go by, he dimension doors them into their bedroom.

"Cheat," Biern grumbles, and he can feel Gale's cocky grin.

"You have big, beautiful muscles at your disposal my dear, I have magic, it is hardly cheating," Gale says with a mild amusement, hobbling to their bed and none-so-gracefully depositing Biern onto the mattress. Biern feels himself begin to drift again, allowing Gale to do as he wishes, clothing being shed and replaced with more comfortable sleepwear, the passage of time hazy as Biern allows himself to be taken care of, the exhaustion too heavy to protest.

Then, Gale is crawling into bed, his own sleepwear donned on.

"Will you allow me?" Gale murmurs, gently gripping at a braid along the side of Biern's head, and Biern hums tiredly, barely able to crack open his eyes to look at his husband. Biern blinks, trying to process the request.

It's intimate, and Biern has yet to properly explain it all to Gale, the importance of every pleat and bead, the different milestones and people behind every single one. Still, in the little bit that Biern has permitted himself to convey, Gale had quickly caught on, and has treated his hair and beard with reverence and care.

"'course," Biern murmurs, because there is no other answer. Few people still walk this earth of whom Biern would allow to do this, and he's glad to have one right by his side.

Gale, after a pause that Biern can't quite decipher, begins to carefully undo the braids. Whenever he encounters a bead, he carefully pulls it out. As he does so, Biern can hear the familiar tink of the beads hitting the box he keeps by the mirror in their room. The world goes fuzzy after that.

__________________

Biern awakens to light pouring from the curtains, a headache pushing behind his eyes, likely from the emotional bouts yesterday.

He swallows, and grimaces.

Dehydration as well, apparently.

He turns away from the window, curling into the warmth of his partner, finding himself unable to be ashamed of the touch. 

"Good morning to you too," comes his partner’s familiar morning voice, slightly gravelly but somehow still attentive and aware. He sounds amused, so Biern huffs in response, partially because he knows it makes Gale chuckle. He feels the rumble of it against his ear, and warms delightfully.

"G'mornin'" Biern mumbles, and a hand comes up to the back of his neck, scratching with a gentle hand at the skin before combing through the hair with care. They stay like that for a moment, serene and unburdened. Eventually, Biern can feel the warmth of the sun heating his back, and he begins to shift away. Gale's hand finds his hip, giving it a firm squeeze, not restraining, but instead a request.

Biern stops, brows furrowing as he glances to Gale.

"Your lectures are soon, and we are already quite late to start breakfast," Biern says, half a question in his tone. Gale squeezes again, fingers beginning to comb through Biern's hair once more.

"I've already sent word to find a replacement for my lecture this morning," Gale explains, and Biern blinks, mouth opening to protest, but Gale continues- "putting in a rather good word for Tara during, of course, so I suspect she will be taking over," Gale says, and Biern relaxes.

"We are rather fortunate that she is fond of us both," Biern grumbles, letting himself sink into the bed once more. Gale huffs a laugh, and Biern continues, "but you did not need to miss your work because of..." he struggles for a moment to find the words for yesterday’s debacle. Gale's softened look hardens slightly at the mention of yesterday, concern blooming once more.

"It's no hardship," Gale says, "not for you,".

Biern huffs slightly, feeling both pleased and embarrassed at this declaration. Though mostly, he is, admittedly, grateful. He closes his eyes for a moment, if only to escape the light beginning to fully pour into the room now, head throbbing. Gale's ministrations continue, providing a soothing balm on the pain.

"You make it difficult to be upset," Biern says finally, once he begins to worry that sleep will greet him once more. He feels Gale's self-satisfied smirk, the energy between them changing.

"Difficult news for you to accept, I'm sure, though it is quite a boon for me," Gale cheekily says, and Biern grumbles unintelligible words under his breath, half-formed between Dwarven insults and Common ones. Finally, he squints his eyes open and carefully begins to sit up, but Gale restrains him once more with that squeeze along his hip. Biern lets himself fall down the bed with a tad more dramatics than the situation warrants, regretting it immediately as pain blossoms in his skull, as though hammers are being bashed against his skull and behind his eyes.

"I need water," Biern grumbles, eyes squeezing shut. Gale gives a vague acknowledging noise, and the hand at his hip pulls away. At this movement, Biern lets himself shuffle closer, soaking some of Gale's own body heat. Biern typically runs much warmer, but the closeness is a comfort. Gale does a hand movement, murmuring a clear and familiar syllable under his breath, and there's a faint glow that appears behind Biern's eyelids.

Biern scrunches his eyes more, and there’s a huff of a breath on his face from Gale's chuckle.

"I know, let me just-" there's a faint grunt, and Biern grumbles as he's gently guided to sit up, headache beginning to throb from a gentle thing into a more pressing force. Despite this, he helps Gale, pushing himself into a sitting position as well. A glass is placed into his hand, and the glowing light behind his eyelids fades. Gale quickly deposits some pillows behind Biern, allowing him to lean back.

There's a scratching sound of metal against metal, darkness flooding the room. He opens his eyes then, blinking confusedly at the closed curtains, still swishing with the movement. Light barely peaks from under them, as the curtains drag on the floor just enough to block most of it..

"I'm certain if I could see you currently, you'd seem rather baffled," Gale comments wryly, and Biern huffs, as good of a confirmation as he'll give. He takes a grateful sip of the water as Gale chuckles at him.

"Thank you," Biern speaks softly into the quiet room, the sound of waves outside being the only reminder of the outdoors. His headache hasn't left, though it's lessened severely as he's no longer exposed to the light of day. He leans over, resting the glass of water on his own nightstand. 

"It's no trouble, Amralimë," Gale says softly, the dwarven words curling strangely with his accent, though it still makes butterflies burst in Biern's chest and stomach, fondness and love curling around him comfortably. He turns his head to finally look at his beloved, and he sees Gale's grey-scaled features twisted adoringly in Biern's direction, eyes unfocused in the darkness though still pin-pointed on his general form. The sight makes him quite grateful for his darkvision.

A comfortable silence settles, Gale uncharacteristically patient, and Biern appreciative for the man who sits before him.

"I apologize dear, for the distress I caused yesterday," Biern finally says, and his betrothed inhales sharply, lips pursing. Silence reigns again, and a crease forms between Gale's brows. He continues, before Gale can fully form a response, "it's important that you know that it is not your actions or words that distressed me, but a stress I have placed upon my own shoulders," Biern admits, finally, heart beating uncomfortably in his chest, though the previous stress of admitting all of this is soothed by the mere presence of Gale in front of him, concerned.

Gale, in response, reaches forward and grips blindly in the darkness, grabbing at the large duvet puddled in Biern's lap. He continues to pat around for a moment, before Biern blinks in recognition, reaching out and grabbing at Gale's hand with confidence.

Gale's shoulders droop, stress melting, and Biern smiles.

"I've rarely known you to cry," Gale says slowly, and Biern hums in acknowledgement.

"It is simply that, when you extended the offer to learn something of such import to me, it..." he trails off, trying to push the words forward, pivoting his thoughts and grasping for the Common language, "it made me realize how many parts of myself I have been folding away, out of view or question, as to not create opportunity for judgement or discomfort for you or our peers," he says, trailing off as Gale's expression begins to morph into one that can truly only be described as... well, horrified and sad could not begin to aptly describe it, though devastated may begin to cover it. 

"Biern," Gale starts, choked and concerned as he squeezes at his hand with a sudden ferocity. Biern allows it, large and calloused hands barely feeling the pain in the grip. It is grounding instead. He breathes in, the sound stuttery, but as he breathes out, it smoothes out, "I apologize for ever giving the impression of judgement, or that such an essential part of you must be," he stutters, and a growing fury seems to blossom in his eyes "unseen," he finally spits out, shame and anger coating every syllable. Biern lets his thumb brush against the parts of Gale's hand he can reach, and Gale relaxes slightly.

"I feel possessive of you in a manner that you would likely find disconcerting, and did not wish to offend," Biern says, instead of addressing the anger and shame. Instead, he admits to his own. There's pressure building somewhere within him at the admittance. "I respect you too much as a friend, scholar, and partner to imply certain things, or exert any idea of ownership over your decisions or person, and my worry has expanded into an unkind reflection of you. I know of your care and devotion to me, though I worried..." Biern stalls, the words catching in his throat. 

Gale waits, ever patient in front of Biern's lack of words. In many things his partner rushes in, curious and ravenous for answers. With Biern, his patience at times seems near endless. 

"Your earring, it is a mark of your studies as it is a mark of your previous amorous relations with Mystra," Biern begins, and at the mention of his past lover, Gale's expression shutters, lips pursing once more, a war of apprehension, disbelief and concern making itself known, clearly unsure on how to react in face of this.

Before he can jump to conclusions, or into his emotion, Biern continues, "for us Dwarves, such jewelry and marks are expected of one's past, including lovers, however brief it may have been. I found myself becoming envious of the space your studies, and previous love, took upon your person and appearance," and then, breathing out, he finally admits the crux of the issue, "and I do not take any space at all, there is no evidence of me here, or having been here. It creates a jealousy that I find myself quite ashamed of"

Never let it be said that Gale is not a bright man, because as Biern's shame is spread out in front of them, recognition begins to take shape in his expression.

"The project," he says, the words escaping him in a rush. Biern feels warmth spread through him, embarrassment unstoppable in face of every confession being torn from him, whether by his own mouth or Gale's.

"I found that I was attempting, in my emotion, to replace a piece so integral to you that I could not conceive a single piece of jewelry that could take its place. A dear friend brought to my attention that I needed not replace a thing, but rather add unto you a new part, the same as I have played in your life," Biern explains, growing a tad shy. Gale blinks, grip on Biern's hand loosening from its furious hold into one more tender.

"I can see how you got frustrated," Gale says, eyes distant as he recalls the other night. Biern huffs, nodding.

"I've a better idea of what to create as a courting gift, belated as it is, though it has not been completed," Biern says, and Gale blinks out of his thoughts and looks down at Biern again. He only has Biern's voice to go off of, expression hidden from the drawn curtains, though he is no less attentive for it.

"A courting gift? Such as what nobles may give to express interest in another?" Gale asks, confusedly, and Biern huffs a laugh.

"Yes, though it is quite late for me to offer one to you, engaged as we are," Biern says. There is no engagement ring between them, neither on Gale's finger nor Biern's own. Gale had been too stressed to select jewelry, knowing Biern's expertise, and Biern found it improper without the offer of a courting gift first.

Still, when Gale had offered to marry, Biern had agreed, with the stipulation that he would come to Waterdeep much later, after accompanying and helping Astarion with the spawn, and guiding them to new homes and beginnings.

Now, they are here, in a place where such offers and gifts can be expanded upon. He'd even managed a detour to grab components for such gifts.

"Well, I trust that whatever you will create, I shall adore. I've, quite regrettably, seen very little of your own work, but I don't doubt it will astound me," Gale assures, voice soft but certain, as though there is not a singular piece of doubt in Biern's abilities.

"Quite illogical of you to conclude, considering your lack of evidence," Biern comments wryly, not quite assured.

"You are quite astounding as a man unto your own, and I am quite familiar with the things your hands can do, woo-" Gale starts, voice pittering into teasing and laughter before Biern lightly shoves him with their intertwined hands, both of them breaking into a mild laughter. 

"That is a different context entirely," Biern grumbles, and Gale's gaze turns into that tender look that Biern can barely stomach when it’s directed at him. Chocolate brown eyes melting with the heat of adoration in his heart.

"I do not doubt your abilities my love, and I do not doubt for a moment your attentiveness for my preferences, nor your skills to make it come to fruition," Gale says, and Biern finally feels that knot loosen in his chest. It remains still, and will likely remain so until he hands the courting gift to Gale, but the agony is smoothed with his lover's kind hand.

Biern cannot help the warm and satisfied flush that fills his cheeks, embarrassed at the attention while being equally pleased by it. Of course, in light of these emotions, there is only one course of action.

He leans up to kiss his dear fiance, who lets out a startled gasp, before letting out the most pleased of hums and leaning into it, smiling into the kiss. The warmth spreads in Biern's cheeks, and he squeezes Gale's hand. After a beat, Biern leans back, smiling up at Gale, who now looks down at precisely where Biern's eyes are, even though he surely cannot see him still.

They will be alright, with this love and care between them. 

__________________

A few weeks have passed since, and little has been said about the matter entirely. Gale has been more forthcoming with questions and curiosity of Biern's own accessories, which he has gladly explained in depth, aware that his partner would take insult were Biern to dare even contemplate simplifying the pieces or history. There's been many tears and laughter in these moments, as Biern returns on memories and people long past. Few of the pieces that adorn him are made by his own hand, and he finds himself glad to share people of his past with his partner.

Some remain private, names uttered detachedly, as he dares not contemplate too long of their fate, and Gale's curiosity abates in those moments, respectful silence as he reads between the lines, and embraces shared. He does not push, and Biern finds himself grateful. 

His endlessly curious partner, ever patient with his silly dwarf. 

There is no longer a warring jealousy that flares in Biern’s chest at the sight of the earring that is a permanent fixture of Gale's appearance.

Though, it is admittedly difficult to feel such jealousy as Gale's quiet enthusiasm continues to persist as time passes, neither speaking of the courting gift, though both aware of it. He carries about him a certain joy and happiness since the revelation of the gift, one that Biern cannot help but bask in.

Gale is respectful enough to not enter Biern's study, now that he is aware of the project, and Biern takes care to not hide away for too long, even though Gale has always been understanding of long nights locked away when inspiration may strike. It is a rather dwarvish inclination and understanding, Biern thinks in the privacy of his mind.

Though perhaps it is moreso the inclinations of half-mad scholars and artists, of which there are many among dwarves. 

"Amrâlimê, I would ask of you to open your hand for me," Biern says one day as he enters the living room, Gale tucked onto his loveseat with a book on his lap, legs curled up in a manner that suggests his knees will deeply protest when he unfurls later.

Gale peers up above his reading glasses at Biern, expression caught between trust and curiosity to know, to gaze at the unknown presented before him.

He holds his hands out without protest, the other still holding the book in his lap open.

Biern steps into his space, knees knocking at the edge of the loveseat, wishing to share the same breath and space with his partner. Without fanfare, he places the piece that he has laboured over for weeks into Gale's hand, tucking it safely into the grooves of his palm before retracting his own much larger hands.

Gale gasps, hand leaving the book he's holding to cradle the piece, bringing it closer. Biern grabs the book before it can fall in Gale's excitement, fond as he tucks it onto the side table, tucking a handkerchief between the pages to mark where Gale had left off.

"Biern," Gale says, eyes locked onto the piece held in his hands, and Biern smiles, genuine pride in his work allowing for some confidence to take root. There, in Gale's hand, is a bead similar to some of Biern's own, woven into his hair. It is relatively small and grey, though intricate carvings are chiseled into the stone, which were then filled with gold, strenghtened with silver, to strengthen the space and piece.

"It is carved from the rock from which I pulled you out of, with that conveniently placed portal," Biern says, and Gale gapes, gently turning over the bead in his palm to look at the carvings that surround it.

"When would you have had the time to return? How did- That's-" Gale's eyes are turning teary, and Biern chuckles.

"When I was returning from the Underdark, once I had done what could be done to help Astarion, I'd made a detour to the place where we met. I knew that whatever piece I would create for you, I wanted it to have a component of that space, and I found the stone that I pulled you from to be appropriate. The gold is to symbolize my place in your life, and how every piece of myself, from my Mastery to my being a Gold Dwarf," Biern says. Of course, it goes far beyond that, though Biern senses that truly only half of this is processing for his dearly betrothed, so he pauses.

"You astound me, this astounds me," Gale says, smiling down at the piece, and Biern hums.

"It took me quite a while to decide on what kind of piece would suit you best, and I found a hair bead was most appropriate, to symbolize our relationship," Biern says, and then, "and it is insurance that you may never have your hair too short to wear it," Biern admits, almost without thought, and Gale laughs, tucking his glasses up and onto his head before looking straight at him.

"It's all a ploy to have me keep my hair long," Gale says, and Biern nods seriously.

"That is all this ever was, our relationship is built on the foundation of my desire to have your hair remain long, and your beard remain intact. I exist to balance out the Tara in your life," Biern says somberly, and Gale lets out a little wheezy laugh, and Biern allows a small smile to form.

"Would you help me put this in love?" Gale asks, holding the bead out gently, though theres a wariness to the movement, as though he's unsure if he wishes to let it out of his sight at all. Biern smiles, grabbing at the piece with dextrous fingers.

"I will do it every day, and forevermore, if you so wish it," Biern admits, and Gale flushes with delight. He's always particularly receptive to promises and evidence of Biern staying, even though he's already promised Gale forever, he enjoys the reminder.

Biern reaches forward with his unoccupied hand, grabbing at the back of Gale's neck and pulling his head forward to press a kiss to the crown of his head, a rare gift usually reserved for their bed. His partner lets out a content hum at the contact, and Biern pulls away after a brief moment. As he pulls the hand away from Gale's neck, he uses it to separate a section of hair in front of Gale's ear, the one opposite of his symbol of Mystra.

Slowly, and with the dedication it deserves, Biern begins to twist the strands into a rather simple braid, and as he reaches near the end of it, he slots in the bead, focus broken as he pulls his hands away from his work and shifts towards his partner, who's staring at him with curious and eager eyes.

He's beautiful. Gale is beautiful.

And there, in the bead, with gold shining past grey stone, opposite of a silver earring, is evidence of Biern.

There he is, no longer hidden in the tower, or the corners of Waterdeep, or in memories or moments of the two together, but instead a physical manifestation of his presence in Gale's life, there to stay.

Forevermore.

Notes:

thank you to katt and tea, who beta-read and were very enthusiastic and patient with me as i spent months writing this and listening to me talk about my guy kekw.

thank you katt, for loving these guys So Much and being the reason i was able to finish this at all.

also thanks tea, for not letting the word sincerelrily (meant to be sincerely) make its way into the public eye.

through this single dwarf i know too much about the spellplague and gold dwarves, and will likely write more about these two or just biern just to say all of this cool ass knowledge.

please leave a comment <3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Build a New House