Chapter Text
“But I’ll die of boredom!”
“You should have thought about that before breaking your leg.” Deadpanned Shadow heart, and Halsin chuckled as he tidied up the provisory operating room.
“It will be fine, Astarion.” Halsin assured him, gently patting his shoulder. Astarion’s frown deepened, huffing a discontent sigh.
“Not really, no.” He said, already feeling restless. “Unlike you both who have happily settled down in your happy ever afters, I am someone who has a job that requires him to move!”
“If you can call murdering someone a job.” Muttered the cleric, giving him a side eye.
“It IS a job! And a highly demanding one, if you must know.”
He refrained from pouting at her, trying to keep what little of his dignity was left intact. Truthfully, a vampire who for some reason can’t use his vampiric abilities, falling down and breaking a leg in the stupidest of ways? It can’t get more humiliating than that, even considering the bulky horrid plaster thing they put on his leg to force him to limit his movement.
“Well, you’ll have to take a break from that for a good while.”
“Oh no, that’s not happening, darling.”
“Don’t be stupid! Even if you want to walk, you definitely can’t! You won’t be able to!”
“I’m taking that as a challenge!”
Before the situation escalated further, and seeing Astarion stubbornly trying to get up, Halsin gently grabbed the furious Shadowheart by the shoulders and moved her away, and stepped in front of the vampire.
“Astarion, please listen to us.” He calmly asked, sitting down in the bed where the elf was resting. Astarion clicked his tongue, reluctantly looking at the druid. “This is serious. We don’t know the extent of your sudden inability to heal fast, let alone the loss of some of your vampiric traits. If this interferes with your natural healing process or you do something that makes it worse, you could lose your leg.”
“What?” Suddenly, nothing seemed so annoying anymore. Shadowheart seemed to take pity in him, and sat down beside him in silent support.
“You know how bones heal and all that, right?” Began Halsin, gesturing to his wrapped right leg. “They mend very slowly, and need to be kept immobilized to avoid interrupting, well… let’s call it the knitting process. Interrupting that process could cost you, heavily. I know you’re not used to this, I know you used to walk off an injury of this kind in the past, but since we can’t heal you due to your undead nature nor can you heal fast, you’ll have to be patient and let your leg rest for a few weeks.”
“But I can’t do that.” He said, shaking his head, sounding faint. “I have to constantly move. I have to escape, to avoid people and sunlight, I need to hide. And you’re well aware of what I do! I’ve crossed pretty powerful people who won’t stop looking for me, back from my old life and from now. If I stop…” he trailed off, feeling unsure of wanting to even think about the consequences.
“Stay here with me, then!” Shadowheart exclaimed, extending one of her hands to him. But he lowered his head, eying her sadly.
“I can’t do that, Shadowheart. Your mother… You know her health is brittle and I know you have a lot on your hands with your new life.” He then looked at the druid. “Same as you, Halsin. You’ve got a bunch of rascals in your charge on top of the rebuilding of Reithwin. I can’t become a burden to you both. I refuse to.”
“But we can’t let you go like this.” The cleric regretfully said. “And you can’t go back to the sewers like this either.”
“It’s my life.” He said, his mouth a firm line. “I choose this.”
“But it shouldn’t be your only option!”
“What other option is there?” He shot back, making Shadowheart fall silent.
She helplessly looked at Halsin, who looked deep in thought. At sensing her eyes on him he shook his head, standing up and walking towards his healing supplies.
And then, as quickly as a breeze he turned, his face bright with an idea.
“Actually, there is one option.” He says, with Shadowheart catching up immediately.
She smiles knowingly, standing up beside Halsin.
“You won’t like it, but…” She begins and nods, determined. “Perhaps it’ll be good for you two?”
The sunlight was almost gone by the time Gale left Blackstaff Academy and made his way back to the tower, unmarked essays under one arm and his personal bag on the other. Today was… a day. A whole day of constantly running after his students who were thirsty for knowledge and practice, as today was their weekly Evocation class with real demonstrations of magic in situ. It was an exciting moment for the children, all eager to show their prowess and talents, but it was also a time where a multitude of minor accidents involving fire, among other elements, were known to happen.
Naturally he was exhausted. He longed for the comfort of his bed, of getting under his warm covers with a nice book and tea. Thank the gods it was the last day of school for the reminder of the week, meaning he had four whole days for himself at last. Sadly, being this much tired left little to no magic left in him to teleport back home or misty step the way ahead, but walking was nice too. The air was fresh and the weather was fine, if a tad bit cold but refreshing nonetheless. All in all, it was a quiet evening and enough for a small reprieve on the streets of his beloved City of Splendors, but he couldn’t wait to hit the hay.
So it really came as a surprise when he spotted people in front of his tower, apparently waiting for his arrival. Weird. He wasn’t expecting anyone.
As he came closer to them, he began making out more details, and while he was elated to see them here, he was also pretty taken aback. No letters had announced their arrival, nor sendings or Tara’s little messages. So why in the world…?
And then Halsin turned around, and his stomach dropped as he noticed a pretty particular white haired high elf being carried in a bridal style in his arms. His mood soured further when he saw the elf waving his hand at him, as if nothing had ever happened back then.
“Gale, my friend!” Greeted Halsin as he noticed him. Shadowheart smiled, and waved a small polite salute, no doubt trying to show peace before anything else happened.
Gale kept walking until he was standing in front of them, avoiding the obvious elephant (or should he say vampire?) in the room.
“It’s so nice to see you again, my friends.” He warmly greeted them, genuinely glad to see them since their last time together. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here but, whatever brought you to my tower?”
“Ah, that would be… me?” Astarion said, sounding a bit uncertain. Then he smiled his practised little smile, the one he knew was fake. “Hello again, Gale.”
“Hello, Astarion.” He said back, out of politeness. But he really didn’t want to talk to him.
Shadowheart seemed to notice the quiet tension and brewing coldness , and approached Gale with a touch on his arm.
“I’m so sorry to appear unannounced like this, but we really need your help.” She sounded sincere, her voice soft spoken and worried, and she shot a glance back at the elf in the druid’s arms.
That’s when Gale realized something was wrong with the vampire. While his features were the same, he looked tired, less vivid (well, as vivid as an undead can be), and dare he say subdued? And then as his eyes began analysing him in detail, he finally noticed his leg. A white plaster of sorts encased the limb, a telltale of a serious injury contained inside.
“Alright, let’s go inside and chat with tea and biscuits, I’m a bit parched and hungry from all the lessons of today’s class.” He said, and then remembering the vampire, he added. “You’re welcome as well, Astarion.”
The vampire gave him a grateful smile, but Gale didn’t linger too long, turning over to the entrance of his tower before he could say anything.
He opened the door and invited them inside the warmth of his tower, the fireplace already lit. He guided them to the living room, giving them time to settle down as he went to the kitchen to get the refreshments. He placed the unmarked tests and his bag aside on top of the kitchen table,gathered biscuits in a plate and put the tea kettle on a burner plate to warm it.
He placed the cups, the kettle and the biscuits in a glass tray and, heaving a sigh, went back to the living room.
Shadowheart and Halsin were sitting down on the individual chairs while Astarion rested on the long couch, his right leg propped up by a few pillows. He was looking sour, on the verge of arguing a storm, but the cleric had him pinned with her sharp eyes, as if daring him to say anything. Gale stifled a chuckle at the sight, but it soon turned to dust.
He placed the tray on the small table in the middle, and sat down.
“So, what brings you to my tower?”
Both Halsin and Shadowheart shared a look, clearly deciding who should be speaking. In the end, the druid cleared his throat, signalling his intentions of being the spokesman.
“As Shadowheart said before, we’ve come here seeking help.” He started, clasping his hands on his lap. “Astarion had an accident which has left him incapacitated and in dire need of a place to stay for a few tendays.”
“An accident, he calls it…” Astarion rolls his eyes, pursing his lips. “I fell down on my leg, very stupidly, while escaping a bunch of thugs. They had a radiant infused sword that I naturally had to flee. I was running on a rooftop and seeing as I had to get down quickly, I tried to stick to a wall to slide down, as any good old vampire would do, but suddenly, and very painfully shall I say, found out that I couldn’t, for some reason.”
“What do you mean you couldn’t?”
“As in, I couldn’t use my vampire abilities, darling. They’re gone, disappeared one night as if nothing. I can’t regenerate or heal fast and blood isn’t helping either, which has landed me in this terribly boring and absurd situation.”
Now this was a problem, Gale thought. There were very few records of vampire spawn to know if there were consequences of this kind for some reason or other.
“So aside from needing a place to stay, you also need someone to help you find out what is going on with your vampiric traits?” Gale asks, feeling both the oncoming tiredness and curiosity for magical conundrums.
“Well…” Astarion starts, a tad unsure. “Look, it’s not because I want to. It wasn’t my idea at all!”
“Astarion is right, Gale. It was mine.” Said Halsin, coming in the defence of the vampire. “But it’s not about whether you can help with his vampire abilities or not. My principal concern is the fact he really needs to keep bed rest, and the place he lives in doesn’t allow him to do that.”
“Ugh, it’s a homely place, and my useless leg is not that bad, I swear…” the vampire started to complain, but another sharp look from Shadowheart shuts him up immediately.
“It is bad. Bones went through the skin and all. And it was so bad Astarion actually needed our help and actually asked for it.”
And that was enough of an answer, really, knowing the prideful vampire asked for their help. Oh, it was really bad.
“Well it hurt like the nine hells and I’m no damn cleric!” He shot back. “Or Druid!”
“Anyway,” interrupted Halsin. “that’s why we’re here. Astarion needs strict and total bed rest, else he risks irreparable damage to his leg. Both leg bones fractured, and it was severe enough that we had to apply a more rigid and durable kind of dressing and splint to better support the healing process. Since healing potions don’t seem to be working well enough and he can’t receive magical healing due to his undead nature, the healing process will take what it normally does without any divine intervention.”
“Which is…?”
“Around 6 to 8 tendays.”
Gods, but that was a lot. Almost three months with the vampire, a restless one who will probably get on his nerves. And on top of that, a lot of time living close with the one who broke his heart so recently.
But then again, he couldn’t exactly say no and leave Astarion on his own. He had a big tower, there were different rooms and spaces that could perfectly accommodate an injured man, including sunlight adverse ones.
Still, his heart felt that letting him stay was a betrayal for itself. He hurt him, quite deeply. He didn’t know if he could do this without his feelings involved, didn’t know if he could withstand Astarion being so close without dredging old memories and opening barely scabbing wounds.
He abruptly sat up, conflicted.
“Shadowheart, can I talk to you? In the kitchen?”
“Of course, Gale.”
As soon as they walked in the kitchen, Gale let out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” He said, putting a hand on his temple, trying to keep a coming headache at bay.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but we honestly didn’t know who else to ask. Besides…” she trailed off, as if unsure of continuing.
“What is it?” Insisted Gale.
“I know the two of you didn’t end up on good terms.”
“And you know it wasn’t because of me, right?” He felt emboldened to continue. “I thought we had something, I thought the nights we spent together meant he wanted me, and yet… he told me it was all a manipulation. A farce, just so he could ensure his survival.” He clutched at his chest, where the orb used to reside. The pain wasn’t the same, but it was pain nonetheless. “He told me he loved me, and then retracted his words as if nothing just as I invited him to come live with me.”
“Gale…” Shadowheart grabbed one of his hands, softly brushing the top with a thumb. “You know how it is with Astarion. I’m not defending him, what he did was uncouth and I know it’s hard to forgive, but he’s scared.”
“Of what? Commitment?” Gale spats, shaking her hand off and crossing his arms in a defensive posture.
“No, he’s scared of himself. Of this new life and the new decisions that come with it. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you with how he reacted, probably because he didn’t even know how to properly react.” She assured him. “And I’m sure he regrets it too.”
“I doubt it. He never spoke nor sent a word to me since then. It’s like I stopped existing for him. Maybe that’s what he wanted, to make me disappear from his life and treat me as a mere mistake.” It wouldn't be the first time it happened.
Shadowheart shook her head, a small sigh escaping her lips.
“Look, I can’t speak for him. But he’s a downright mess.” Shadowheart states, her eyes hard and serious. “Did you know he lives in the sewers?”
Gale’s face scrunches up in confusion.
“What? But surely there are more accommodating spaces in Baldur’s Gate even considering his vampiric needs?”
“Exactly my thoughts, especially knowing he’s basically a hero of the Gate. But he’s been hiding there, avoiding everyone and everything except the marks he gets as his ‘job’.” She says, a worried expression settling in her features. “That night he asked for help was the first contact we had since the netherbrain fell. He finally used the sending stone I gave him before we parted ways. And when I got where he was cowering in pain, he was a complete mess, literally. Filthy, smelly, his hair was tangled and matted. And you know how much his hair means to him!”
“Gods, Astarion…” He couldn’t help but feel deep worry, his stomach clenching in sympathy. The man may have broken his heart, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel sorry for him.
“I immediately sought Halsin’s help, as cleric magic doesn’t work on Astarion anymore. Thankfully he was in Rivington visiting some of the displaced families and refugees and he was available. As soon as he arrived, we took him to my home and fixed his leg, gave him a bath and fed him. But it really is bad, Gale.” Her voice broke as she spoke. “He’s not doing well.”
Gale stared at her for a few seconds before making up his mind. He motioned her to follow him back to the living room. Halsin and Astarion seemed to be chatting but they both hushed down when they saw them approach. The druid’s face was calm but Astarion looked anxious, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his loose shirt. His heart clenched as he looked over the vampire once again, Shadowheart’s new information putting a new light on his appearance. He really looked wrong. His carefully curated hair was messy, curls unformed and lacking their usual lustrous shine. His cheekbones seemed a tad bit sharper, eyes sunken and eye bags more pronounced. His paleness was more greyish than marbled and he definitely looked the dead part more than the undead one.
He gulped down the guilt, the pity he knew the vampire wouldn’t appreciate, and took a deep breath before speaking next.
“I have a room across my own where you can stay for the reminder of your recovery.” He says, and both Halsin and Shadowheart smile in relief. “It has a bathroom attached, and plenty of space. I can arrange it to make it more accessible to your new needs”
“You don’t have to-” Astarion started, but Gale held out a hand, stopping him.
“I insist. You can stay for as long as you need.” He states, not leaving room for arguments or anything else.
And with that, he guides Halsin and Astarion to the room upstairs, followed by Shadowheart. Thankfully the bed was fully made and sheets had been changed recently due to a visit from his mother a few days earlier, but he would need to fill the bathroom with toiletries and new towels. Halsin carefully places Astarion at the foot of the bed, and asks for more pillows from Gale, who lets him know he can use anything from the shelves and racks in the room, which Shadowheart immediately begins to go through.
New supplies added in the bathroom, he walks back to the room, and has to suppress a laugh at the swaddled form of the vampire on the bed, his back resting against fluffed pillows and his injured leg sticking out of the covers, propped up on even fluffier ones. Satisfied, the druid steps back, admiring his patient finally settled in.
“You need to keep your leg elevated for 5 days at the minimum. I know vampire physiognomy works differently than others, but inflammation still seems to be working the same.” He passes a small brown pouch to the vampire, who takes it with an arched eyebrow. “There are herbs and drinks that help with the pain, along with a few healing potions. And as an elf myself I know sleeping is not something we usually do, but I still left two potions of Angelic Slumber should you need it.”
“Thanks, Halsin. I know I don’t show it enough, but… I’m grateful for your help. Yours too, Shadowheart.” He says, and Gale can hear the sincerity in his voice (and he can’t help but feel a bit resentful at hearing him sound like that for them).
Both the druid and the cleric pat his shoulder, with Shadowheart giving him a small kiss on top of his head.
“Don’t be a stranger, you better write to me!” She says, leaving the room.
“I’ll come back in a tenday to check on you.” Halsin informs them both, and follows Shadowheart. “Take care, my friend.”
Before he can be left alone with the vampire Gale follows them out too, and the three of them go down the stairs back to the living room.
All of a sudden, he gets embraced. Shadowheart’s hugs are strong and this one is no different, but it carries more than the usual friendly feelings.
It was pure gratitude.
“Thank you so much, Gale.” She says into his shoulder, and steps back. Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears, which she blinks them away. “I knew I could count on you for this.”
Halsin offers him a side hug, which he turns into a full one. The druid’s bear hugs were the best and he definitely needed one now.
“Take care as well, my friend. And let me know if you need any help with our vampire companion.”
All farewells done and said, and reassuring him they had enough money to use a teleport sigil back to Baldur’s Gate themselves, Shadowheart and Halsin depart from his tower, leaving him with a restless vampire in his hands.
This was definitely not how he pictured his day ending.
He decided to fix himself a cup of tea and grabbed a book with a mundane plot he bought himself last week, deciding that going to sleep was better than letting his mind ruminate on the subject of his ex lover staying in his tower. Across his room. Alone.
He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. There was so much to think about, too much to consider. There will be no space for that, he decided. In fact, he would be exchanging that mundane plot book for one about vampire afflictions sooner than later. It was better to put his mind to work than let it overthink everything.
With that said and done, he grabbed his cup and walked upstairs to the dormitory hall. His eyes were focused on putting one foot in front of the other, when they noticed a door ajar. Curse his curious, wandering eyes! Astarion’s door was open, and he couldn’t help but look inside.
The elf was apparently asleep, a rare sight. He didn’t think he ever got to see him sleeping back when they were adventuring, both elves of their group often choosing to trance instead for night watch reasons (or in the vampire’s case, for hunting reasons).
He quietly tiptoed towards the open door stopping just shy of entering, observing the relaxed features of the elf. Even as a vampire, as an undead being, he managed to look gentle, light as a feather. The warm light from the arcane lamps accentuated his soft features; his relaxed brow, his slightly parted lips, his limp curls resting on the pillows. He could see a mimic of a breathing movement despite him not needing it, as if he was art imitating life.
Gods, but he still loved him. Despite everything, he was head over heels for the vampire.
A sharp intake of air broke that chain of thoughts, stopping him from spiralling down into what-ifs and whys. A pair of red eyes posed themselves on his frozen body, startled.
“Gale.” Astarion said, his voice breaking a bit from the sleep.
“Astarion.” Gale said back, looking back at him.
The elf sat a bit straighter in the bed, as much as his leg allowed him. He seemed tense, as if expecting Gale would kick him out in any second.
And maybe that’s what he really thought he would do when he spoke his next line.
“Listen, darling, we both know you don’t truly want me here.”
But did he? Did he really want him here?
“Why would you think that?”
“You know why. I’m no fool, I know what I did and what it did to you.” He replied, biting his lip. “So, as soon as I can take a step, which can be sooner than later, I’ll be out of your hair, and it would be as if I was never here.”
“Do you really want to do that?” He asked instead of saying anything else. The vampire’s eyes widened in response.
“It’s not about what I want, it's that I’m here, invading your tower. Your home.”
“The home I invited you to come a while ago.” He spoke before he could bite his tongue, and Astarion physically recoiled, as if hit by a magic missile.
The words hung out in the middle of them, an oppressive silence permeating the room. Before it could turn cold, Gale decided to amend his words.
“I meant what I said before.” He said, shuffling on his feet. “You’re welcome here for as long as you need. But if you want to leave I won’t stop you. It’s your decision whether you want to stay or not.”
“... Even despite what I said that day?”
“You must have had your reasons, and I respect that.” He said, feeling kind of proud of himself for keeping calm and collected. In the past he would have reacted with explosive emotions and verbosity, demanding explanations and what-not while waving his hands in the air.
But now, he was at peace with himself. He knew the vampire needed time to find himself, especially knowing what Shadowheart informed him about his current living conditions. He didn’t want him to be afraid, he wanted him to feel safe at last.
Even if he didn’t love him like he did.
Astarion seemed to relax a bit at this, his back no longer rod straight. He still didn’t look completely convinced but it was a step in the right way.
“Well, thank you.” He sounded sincere, and Gale’s traitorous heart skipped a beat. And then the vampire's face turned into a mischievous smirk, a fang peeking out. “Does that mean you'll be at my beck and call?”
“Good night, Astarion.” Said Gale, effectively cutting the rest of the conversation. He tried (and failed) to hide the small smile playing on his lips.
He turned around and started walking to his room, ignoring any other playful word from the vampire, and closed his door.
Sleep didn’t come easy. He gave the mundane plot book a go, which ended up having such a predictable plot with cheesy cliffhangers that he had to take pauses between reading to avoid ripping his hair out. It was too much! Incessant problems caused by the protagonist, a young maiden enamoured by a gallant noble, whose love was apparently forbidden by their families. The obvious “poor don’t mingle with the rich” plot which could easily resolve if the gallant noble was less of a coward and took proper decisions, and the same for the young maiden whose life only revolved about overthinking their fated love, constantly doubting if her gallant noble was even faithful or real with her. Such a boring and tiring plot, so much that instead of making him drowsy enough for a sleep, it ended up making him feel frustrated and very much awake.
He closed the book and out of spite left it stored away in the night table. He’ll finish it someday, just not tonight. As he sank back into his pillows, he couldn’t help but look at his closed doors. Knowing just on the other side past the hall was Astarion made his stomach clench in anxious anticipation. He missed him so much, and yet, he knew he couldn’t fall back into what used to be such a wonderful relationship. It was over, as far as he was concerned, and while it hurt, he also respected the vampire’s decision.
Why did he take such a decision though, now that was a question he’d like to get an answer to. But he knew that was hoping for too much.
Suddenly, a crash resounded through his closed room, echoing in the hall. Realizing it sounded as if it came from the room Astarion was staying in, he immediately rolled out of bed, hastily put on a dressing gown and quickly sprinted towards the other room.
He wrenched open the door, and froze. But not in fear or anger, but amusement at what he saw.
Tara had made it inside through the window, a passage she didn’t take often unless his mother was staying or she knew it was past his bedtime to avoid interrupting his sleep. As she used a Magic Hand to open the window, Astarion probably thought someone was trying to break in and acted accordingly.
Or tried to, as he ended up half on the floor, his legs up in the bed. Truly a comical sight, if it weren’t for the fact that he should be worried the elf had fallen off the bed like that. He gulped down a chuckle before approaching him to help.
“Astarion, are you alright?” He asked, looking down at the vampire.
“Never better, darling.” His muffled voice came. A pillow had landed on his face, which he tore away with an annoyed look. “Your hosting abilities leave a lot to be desired.”
“I’m so sorry, Tara uses this room to enter the tower sometimes. Let me help you up.”
Astarion hesitated, but ended up nodding, and Gale crouched next to him. He gently posed an arm behind his back, urging Astarion to snake his own across his neck, and slowly lifted him back into the bed. He carefully arranged the pillows supporting his injured leg, making sure nothing was out of place, and lifted the covers up to Astarion’s lap. As he smoothed the wrinkles out, he caught the eyes of the elf staring at him with an indecipherable look.
Before he could say or do anything, a little harrumph interrupted them.
“Mr. Dekarios, you didn’t tell me you were expecting someone today.”
“Trust me Tara, It was as surprising to me as it is for you.” He confessed, straightening up and walking to the foot of the bed. The tressym flew and landed on the bed, looking down at the elf.
“So, the vampire, hmm?” She drawled, her tail curling around her paws. “I thought you had told my dear Gale you were not interested in coming here.”
Astarion gave her a confused look, and arched an eyebrow at Gale.
“What is she saying?”
“Oh, right. Tressymspeak.” He muttered to himself, and then out loud to Astarion. “She’s just surprised to find you here.” He interpreted, omitting the last half.
“Oh, well, in that case, allow me to offer my humble apologies for imposing, and salutations to our esteemed ruler of the tower and Gale’s honourable keeper.” He said, even managing to make half a bow in the bed with all the reverence of a well educated noble.
Tara definitely preened, feeling the almighty creature she is. She even dignified Astarion with a little sniff of her tiny nose on his hand. Gale was surprised, but not at the tressym’s attitude, but at Astarion’s words.
Because he remembered. Before the idea of asking him to move together to his tower, he wanted him to properly meet his best friend. The first time Astarion was introduced to Tara she was hunting pigeons on top of the roof of the Open Hand Temple, and she wasn’t keen on sharing her meal nor engaging in a conversation. Before he could introduce him to her she was already flying away, grumbling about stupid birds.
After that, the vampire had asked about her and Gale told him all about how he had first summoned her as a little creature in his tender years of magic. He informed him that Tara was a prideful companion, often needing to be praised and treated with the utmost respect. He confessed the ways to conquer her heart to win her favour should they be introduced in an unfortunate manner, and the first and most important way was to acknowledge her importance and his status as her pet.
“I like this one, Mr. Dekarios.” She informed him quite satisfied, unintentionally confirming his thoughts.
“She says she likes you, Astarion.” he translates to the vampire, who is now attempting to reach Tara’s head from his position. Surprisingly, she acquiesces and moves her face herself towards Astarion’s hand, headbutting his palm.
The moment she begins purring, Astarion’s eyes soften.
“Ooh I like you too, you beautiful little creature.” He coos, scratching behind her ear.
His heart clenched once again, but this time in mourning. This tender moment between his best friend and who he thought was the one made him ache for the love they could have had living together in his tower, had Astarion said yes. A moment lost in this current timeline, one he desired so strongly he knew he had to leave the room, lest he show weakness and reveal more than he should.
“Well, seeing as no one is in danger, I’ll return to the comfortable covers of my bed.” He said, quickly stepping towards the exit. “Good night to the both of you.”
“Wait, Gale!” He heard Astarion call, and he turned over.
“Yes? What is it?”
“It’s nothing important, just… Could you leave the door open?” He asked, his voice hesitant. “If it's no trouble, of course.”
“None at all, my… friend.” He forced a smile, trying not to wince at the last part. “The door shall remain open for our esteemed guest.”
And finally, he left, along with his tumultuous feelings and the overbearing need to open his heart to the one who broke it in the first place.
The next morning found Gale sprawled on his bed, lazing the remaining tension of the week away. Tara had come back sometime during the night to sleep at his feet like she usually did, but during the night had moved up to his chest and now was currently nestled on his side, soaking off his body warmth and the soft rays of the morning sun filtering through the curtains.
It was peaceful and very quiet, just like he preferred his lazy mornings.
Until…
“Fuck!” A loud curse and a crash.
Oh Mother of Magic, now what!
Peace be damned! He threw his covers off and Tara went with them, her angry hissing muffled by the heavy kilt.
Once again he sprinted through the hall towards Astarion’s room, his heart in his throat at the possible damage he might have caused himself.
As he entered the room, he realized the vampire wasn’t in the bed. Another crash and the subsequent clattering of things falling to the floor alerted him, his head whipping towards the source of the noises.
The bathroom.
“Astarion!” He cried against the door, one hand braced against it.
“No! Go away!” He shouted. His voice sounded strained but he couldn’t discern if it was in pain or in anger.
“Astarion, just please tell me you’re okay!”
“Get lost!” He spat, and more things fell with clinks. “Ugh, I hate this!”
“I’m sorry but I’m coming in.” He warned before turning the knob and letting himself come inside, and what he saw broke his heart a little.
Astarion was on the floor surrounded by bottles of shampoo, essential oils and other bath amenities, his injured leg awkwardly caught between the bathtub and the wall. His face was scrunched up in anguish, his hands hovering helplessly, one over his trapped leg and the other on the floor trying futilely to find purchase against the slippery tiles. Gods, the poor man.
He immediately went to help him but Astarion pushed him away, baring his fangs.
“Leave me be!” he hissed dangerously, trying to scare him off. But he knew he was reacting to the pain like an injured feral cat.
“Don’t be daft, I couldn’t possibly leave you lying here like this!” He shot back, but still held his hands up in surrender.
The elf snarled, and in a fit of anger and frustration he yanked on his trapped leg, hard. The resulting yowl of pain had Gale crouching next to him and putting his hands on top of his shoulders, trying to ground him as well as stop him from doing any more damage to himself.
“Don’t touch me!” He snapped, but Gale held on.
“You’re hurting yourself!” He retorted, keeping his hands firm. Astarion’s eyes were wide and wild, his chest heaving with pantomime breaths. “Please, Astarion, let me help you.” he pleaded in a calm voice now, looking right into his eyes.
The vampire held his stare, their feral appearance slowly melting away and giving way to tired, pained red eyes. His breathing began stabilizing, the fear finally dissipating.
“It hurts.” He whined, starting to tremble. “I don’t like being this clumsy, I despise being this weak!”
“It is quite alright, Astarion. You had an unfortunate accident with an unfortunate outcome. This doesn’t make you weak.”
“It does if my useless vampire body doesn’t want to properly regenerate.” He grumbled, his frustration directed at the trapped leg. “I can’t get out of here myself, it's so humiliating!”
“Let me help you with that.” He said, standing up. “I’ll have to move the bathtub a bit. Luckily for you I happen to be a very well rested wizard at the moment, so using telekinesis won’t be a problem at all.”
His arms started moving, his hands calling on the weave as easily as breathing. Lately, after the tadpoles, the Absolute’s fall and the removal of the netherese orb, his magic reserves were steadily reforming back to the time they were as an Archmage. So casting telekinesis was no trouble at all.
The bathtub was gently lifted a few centimetres off the tiled floor and moved it away, giving enough space for Astarion’s leg to be freed. But the elf froze, as if afraid to move at all. Gale’s brow furrowed in worry; maybe he had caused more damage than he thought. Halsin had warned him that his leg was in a frail state, risking irreparable consequences should he forfeit the recovery process.
“Everything alright?” He hesitated to ask, but he needed to know what else to do.
“I don’t know.” Astarion’s answer wasn’t reassuring at all.
“I can use telekinesis again to move you back to the bed if you want.”
“No!” He exclaimed, and then more calm. “No, I prefer a solid touch, if possible. But thank you for the offer, darling.”
And it was honestly surprising, considering how touch adverse he could be. Maybe he had trouble not being able to control his surroundings, needing to feel the ground under his feet, just like a cat.
(Gods, he really should stop comparing Astarion to a cat lest he wanted to lose all the blood in his body.)
“Do you want me to help you up?” He hesitated to ask, knowing Astarion’s pride was already wounded and didn’t need to be injured further.
“Not yet, darling. Let me take a moment.” He answered, not really saying no. Gale suppressed the need to sigh in relief, and instead nodded.
Wordlessly, he began picking up the fallen bottles around the vampire and cleaning anything that could have spilled in the struggle. Astarion’s eyes followed his movements, his expression carefully neutral. He honestly didn’t know what was going on inside the vampire’s head.
The intense stare was getting to him.
“So,” he began, as he commanded an Unseen Servant to bring a broom. “What were you trying to do that got you in this predicament?”
“Trying to take a bath, obviously.” He answered. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a good soak in warm water, and you have such a nice bathtub! Honestly perfect for me considering my current predicament.” Then his face dropped. “I just can’t believe I slipped. I was inspecting your oils when my supposedly good foot slid under me as I was, hmph, skipping over, and fell. Since I had nothing to grab onto I just couldn’t break it.”
“Oh, oh… that might have been my fault.”
“Your fault?” He shot in disbelief. “How so? Was it you who enchanted this floor to be slippery?”
“No, and I wouldn’t do that, of course!” He exclaimed, disgruntled. “I told you how I would make this room and the next more accessible to you, but I didn’t. I forgot to do it last night.”
“Oh…”
“I’m sorry.” He sincerely said, dropping his head.
“Gale, don’t be stupid.” Astarion said, his tone harsh. Gale flinched at his voice. “How is this your fault? It was my own clumsiness, not the fact you didn’t put anything for me.”
“But we could have avoided this.”
“Ugh, shut up. And stop looking at me with your dumb puppy eyes! You know what they do to me.” He grumbled, averting his eyes.
Gale’s face felt warm all of a sudden. My puppy eyes…? Surely he didn’t mean that?
“A-anyway,” He cleared his throat with a small cough, cheeks still on fire. “Next time you need to do something that requires you to move farther than usual, maybe call me or Tara? We’ll gladly help you.”
Astarion pouted, and Gale knew he was struggling to accept he was getting help whether he wanted it or not.
“What do you get out of helping me, darling?” He asked, making Gale’s brain abruptly stop working.
“Whatever do you mean by that?” He asked, genuinely confused. “I’m just helping you like I would help any other friend.”
“Is that so?” He narrowed his eyes. “Or is it your superior complex making an appearance?”
“Superior complex?” Gale repeated, disgruntled. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.
Astarion’s lips turned into a smirk, a wicked little thing he used when trying to get a point across with sharp fangs instead of words.
“You’re liking this. You like having me here, having to take care of this poor, enfeebled creature. You must be feeling some kind of sick satisfaction at seeing me so helpless, knowing you were right to invite me here when you had, knowing how it would have prevented this from happening.”
“Now, hold on! Why are you lashing out like this?” Gale stopped him, palms up. The words hit him wrong, and he felt deeply offended. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” He innocently asked, suddenly angelic. “I’m just stating the obvious. It brings you pleasure, doesn’t it? Seeing me as helpless as a newborn kitten?”
Gale couldn’t believe the audacity of this elf. First he rejects him after loving words were exchanged. Denies the love they shared together, tells him all the wonderful times they had, the ones he wasn’t sure he could ever forget, were part of his manipulations to garner a powerful ally, then he comes into his tower as if nothing had ever happened, as if he didn’t break his heart.
And now he accuses him of taking advantage of him in his most desperate hour?
He harshly sighs, massages his temples and gulps down the indignation and dejection, and feels as if he has to bolt out of the room into the safety of his own. But he ultimately decides to be the wise, understanding man. He suspected Astarion was trying to push him away, after all, the elf didn’t fancy being dependent on others. He felt it was one of the reasons why he rejected his invitation in the first place, back when the netherbrain had fallen and he was high on emotions. And now Astarion was just about exploring his newfound freedom, only to get stuck with the one who offered him said permanent place to live.
“We need to talk.” He ended up saying, deciding that it was now or never. “But we’re not doing it here in the bathroom. The tiles must be cold and you’ve been on the floor long enough.”
Astarion was taken aback, confirming his suspicions. Whatever he was planning to do wouldn’t work with him anymore. He wasn’t the same old Gale whose emotions were intense and wild. This one was tired, resigned, and only wanted peace and comfort after so much uncertainty and repudiation.
“Sure, darling. Lead the way?”
“I’ll have to pick you up. Is that alright with you?”
“Just get on with it.”
As he crouched next to the vampire he noticed how he refused to look at him, instead focusing on balancing himself on one leg as he was lifted from the floor. Gale supported him as he limped back to the bed, and helped him sit down amongst the array of pillows and wrinkled covers. He gently positioned his injured leg on the bed, allowing him to finally rest.
Then, in a daring movement, he sat down in front of Astarion. He didn’t care about the proximity or the fact he was invading his space. He was weary and this conversation was due.
He lifted one finger.
“Firstly, I would like to remind you that letting you stay here was a decision I consciously took because I knew you needed a safe place to recover. It wasn’t out of pity or because I wanted to take care of you while you're incapacitated as you implied. Honestly, I don’t like seeing you in pain.” He started, his whole demeanour changing into a very serious one. “Secondly, even if you decided not to come here when I first offered doesn't mean you won’t be welcomed in my tower anymore. You are part of my life, whether you or I like it or not, and it doesn’t matter if we didn’t end on good terms. I still consider you an important person, just like the other companions we had during our adventure.
“And lastly, as I said before, you’re free to go. I’m not forcing you to stay, nor am I under any obligation to do so. If you decide to leave, do it, but it’ll be under your own responsibility. You are aware of the consequences Halsin said about not letting your leg repose, but I won’t compel you to stay if you’re feeling trapped here. This will never be my intention, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel this way.”
Having finished his piece at last, he waited patiently for anything Astarion might say. But the elf was silent, his eyes downcast and shoulders tense. He definitely wouldn’t be getting a word out of him like this, as he probably had overwhelmed him with his words.
With another drained sigh he stood up, his creaking knees the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
“I’m going out, I need to go to the butcher to get fresh blood for the next few days, crutches for you, and some other things for myself. In the meantime, try to get some sleep.” He quietly said, and finally left the room, remembering to leave the door open like the vampire had requested last night.
Astarion slept for the reminder of the day, seemingly heeding his words. He considered rousing him with an offer of blood, but decided against it. Maybe the sleeping wasn’t voluntary; maybe he had used the potion of Angelic Slumber Halsin had left him with. Clearly an attempt at avoiding him as well, but Gale didn’t dwell on it any further. He preferred to go on with his day, doing his chores and reading some more in the library. It was his weekend and he wanted to make good use of it!
When night approached, and as he was going to bed, he noticed the elf was still fast asleep. He found it a bit strange, but logically he was healing, and he knew sleeping helped speed matters.
But then Astarion kept sleeping the next day. And the one after that, and next one too. And then it was time to go back to his job as a professor.
That morning before going downstairs for breakfast, he contemplated the sleeping form of the elf. He was buried deeply in the covers, only a peak of the top of his white head visible, and the tip of his long ears. As he left with more questions inside his head, he made sure the door was left open like the other nights, hoping the vampire wasn’t sick with some kind of vampiric ailment. He definitely needed to go to the Blackstaff Academy library and ask around for books about vampires. He knew they were scarce but they existed, and he needed to start making progress.
Downstairs, Tara had already put the tea kettle to brew, the sweet aroma of soothing herbs accompanying his tea. He toasted two pieces of bread and added a bit of butter in one (against Tara’s protests about his cholesterol levels) and strawberry jam in the other, and sat down with today’s Waterdeep Wazoo in hand. As he bit into the crunchy toast, Tara sat down in front of him and started grooming her delicate wings, no doubt preparing for today’s flight.
“Mr. Dekarios, a question?”
“Yes, my dearest friend?”
“Is there something wrong with our guest?” She asked, still preoccupied with a feather in particular. “He hasn’t uttered a word since you two last talked.”
“He’s been sleeping.” He answered, gulping down the bread with some tea.
“Hmm, I saw him awake a few times.” She said, which made him feel confused. “But he’s been very silent, very quiet. I wonder…”
“As long as he’s physically fine for now, we shouldn’t bother him too much.” He said, and gently caressed under her soft chin. “He might need some time for himself. We have to respect his space.”
“Hmm, yes. I noticed he can be a bit skittish.”
“I think he’s just not used to being so comfortable. One of our friends told me he has been going through a rough time. I believe he needs to adjust to the pleasures of a soft bed and a warm hearth.”
“Hopefully he adapts soon. I was pleased with his introductions, he is quite an interesting person.” She said, and then made a show of stretching out her wings and her back. “Now, Mr. Dekarios, I believe it’s time you departed for the academy.”
“You’re absolutely right, my dearest. I won’t delay any longer! I shall go get my bag.”
He tidied up the table with a simple prestidigitation, quickly returning each item back to their respective places, and soaked his used cup and left it to dry. All in order, he picked up his teaching materials, his staff and his bag, and readied to leave the tower.
As he touched the door handle to open it, something thumping down the wooden stairs caught his attention and stopped him. He turned around, catching sight of the vampire slowly but steadily descending the stairs, one step at a time, stopping short of touching the ground floor. His red eyes frantically looked around, and when they found his own his expression turned regretful.
“Please wait.” He asked, his voice soft but loud enough in the quiet foyer. “I… I need to speak with you.”
Gale wanted to frown, to tell him he needed to go, that he was going to be late. But he couldn’t do that to the vampire, not when he clearly had made the effort to come down just to talk to him despite being told to keep strict rest.
But he didn’t move from the door, adding some sort of pressure on the vampire.
He nodded for him to continue, and Astarion cleared his throat, if a bit timid.
“I know I am a lot to handle, especially like this.” He began, and Gale completely turned to give him his whole attention. “And sometimes I lash out and act like a complete bastard when things get too comfortable. I… I’m not used to this. I never thought there would be a day in which I didn’t feel in danger. Two hundred years in survival mode makes it hard to change this, my mind still believes this is all just a dream, that it’s all a lie.
“And that’s what I did, in the past. I’d invent scenarios where I was safe and warm when things got too much. When Godey’s lashings dug in too deep or when I was forced to perform for others. And especially during the moments Cazador carved my back with his wicked poems. I truly believed I would never escape.”
He shuddered, gulping down a knot in his throat.
“And yet, here I am. I somehow… survived. And I finally feel safe.” His voice broke at the end, and glistening eyes searched for Gale’s own. “And I realized something. I don’t really want to leave, because you make me feel safe, Gale. And I haven’t felt this safe for so long that it feels unreal.”
“Astarion…” he whispered, his heart heavy at the confession.
“And I wanted to apologize. I never should have implied you were taking advantage of me. You have never done that. The only crime you should be condemned for is for how quickly you opened your door to a vampire and showered him with a ton of pampering."
“You’re not just any vampire, though.” He earnestly said, quite touched. “And I accept your apology.”
“Thank goodness for that big heart of yours, darling.” He physically sagged in relief, a long and dramatic sigh leaving his lungs. But Gale could see the anxiety coursing through him. It hadn’t been easy doing this.
He appreciated it, and could feel how authentic he had been. For the first time since then, he allowed himself to feel hopeful; they could be friends.
But as much as he’d love staying here chatting with Astarion now that he felt their relationship had been rekindled, he had a class to attend.
“I’m sorry to cut this shot, but I really have to go. I can’t let the children unsupervised for more than 5 minutes before they inevitably light something on fire. So…”
“It’s alright, darling. I’m the one imposing on your everyday life, go do your magic stuff.” He waved a hand dismissively at him, shooing him away.
“Oh but before I go, there’s blood in the cabinet on top of the icebox. It’s enchanted to be warm and to avoid clotting. I hope it’s up to your taste.”
Astarion bit his lip, as if refraining from saying something. But he just nodded, a bit insecure.
Gale continued, taking a few steps towards the vampire.
“All the windows have heavy lace curtains so there shouldn’t be a problem with direct sunlight, but I still made sure they wouldn’t open during the day. Oh, and let me place a portal between your dormitory and the kitchen. That way you can easily access both without hopping up and down the stairs.”
“No, that’s not necessary, Gale.”
“I insist. I must show you how good of a host I can be to my friends. And I said I’d make my home more accessible to you.” He smiled, and moved his hands while muttering the verbal components to make a portal. “There, done. Easy as a breeze.”
Astarion scoffed, but it sounded almost fond.
“You wizards and your magic.” He sighed, exasperated. “But thank you. Truly.”
“You’re very welcome. Now, I’m afraid I must depart. Do try to rest and be careful when moving. Oh, and Tara should come around soon, so ask for her aid should you need it. And don't forget to use the crutches!”
“I won't, mother.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” He snorted, and then he added, in a much softer tone. “Thank you, Astarion, for being sincere with me.”
And with a hand wave he left his tower, in greater spirits than he thought, leaving behind a speechless elf.
Class was as wonderful as every Firstday; this particular class had some interesting pupils, all of them teenagers. Solenia, a young wood elf had a particular affinity with ice magic, and she was highly attentive and very interested in evocation just like himself. He made sure to always answer her every inquiry, and made sure to challenge her with complex formulae which made her think more than usual. It was pretty satisfying, watching her grow into the capable wizard she was becoming.
And there was Zulten, a half orc who loved fire magic, to the point of being able to create fire figures and hold them for a few minutes as if they were sculptures. Despite the fact fire was usually created for violent damage, they preferred to use it as a means of comfort and artistry. It was surprising to see what they had for him every Firstday. And today was no exemption; a beautiful fire rose had formed in their hand, taking Gale’s breath away.
“It is astoundingly beautiful, Zulten! You’re doing amazing.”
The student was genuinely elated, and in a show of magic they made the rose disappear in glittering colours making their classmates look awestruck.
All in all, today was quite peaceful at the academy. No extra incidents, no bad attitudes, just good teaching lessons.
Hopefully the situation at his tower remained the same.
“I’m home.” He called out instinctively as soon as he crossed his threshold, but he received no reply. Instead, he heard murmurous laughter and chatter coming from the kitchen, soft and wise sounding voices, along with clinking cups and cutlery. Surely his mother wasn’t…
Oh gods. Tara and Morena’s weekly tea meeting was today.
He sprinted towards the kitchen, and there she was, a cup of tea in hand and another buried in a pastry, with Tara and a plate with fish snacks.
And there, in the table, a well known vampire was sat, nursing what seemed to be a mug of blood and engaging in their gossipy ritual as well.
“Gale, dear!” Came his mother’s voice first, already scooting over so he could sit at the table with them. “How was school, sweetie?”
“All in order.” He replied, a bit astonished. The vampire seemed like a natural, as if he belonged there. His heart squeezed painfully, aching for something that never was.
“That’s good, because you owe me an explanation, mister! How come you haven’t told me about this good lad here!” She reproached while gesturing to the innocent looking vampire who was nonchalantly hiding a smile behind the mug. “How come I haven’t met him yet?”
“Mother, he just arrived. And I haven’t had much time to introduce you both.” He lied, already feeling the oncoming dissatisfaction. As much as it hurt to think about, he never thought he’d have to introduce them. Maybe once, had Astarion said yes to coming here, had he taken his hand.
“A shame, really. He’s very good, not to mention quite the gossiper himself.”
“Oh you flatter me, Ms. Dekarios.” Said Astarion, shooting her an enchanting smile.
Gale frowned, feeling a bit lost. Why was he doing this? What did he get out of charming his old mother? He might have told him about her when they were together, but surely now that things hadn’t worked out meant he didn’t need to act interested?
“Gale, dear, what’s wrong? Are you feeling well?” Morena asked, sounding concerned. She might have turned a bit overprotective after telling her about his folly and the netherese orb.
“Shall I fetch you some tea?” Asked Tara, equally concerned.
“I’m fine.” He said, but his voice sounded strained. That’s when he noticed the look Astarion was giving him, an unreadable expression.
“Well, I think it’s time for me to go back to bed, my leg is starting to ache a tad bit.” He started, leaving his mug on the table with a final tap. “It truly has been a pleasure, madam.”
“Likewise, dear. Don’t be a stranger, it’s nice to see my dear Gale has friends staying with him. Gods knows he needs company after everything that he went through.”
“Mother…” he admonished, feeling embarrassed.
“Shush, love. Mothers know best.” She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. He loved his mother, despite her being a busybody. He knew she really wanted the best for him.
A loud thud interrupted them, making the china cups clatter and clink. Astarion had bumped the table while trying to get up, and all their eyes flew to him.
“Need something?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“More like you need something.” Gale told him, and walked towards him. “Let me help you up. Halsin said you shouldn’t move much and I see you're not using the crutches.”
“I knooooow, but they are so tacky.” He complained, but let Gale snake an arm around his back.
As they went to the entrance of the kitchen where the portal to his room was still in place, the vampire suddenly hissed in pain, cursing under his breath. Gale immediately stopped.
“Are you alright? Did I jostle your leg?”
“It’s nothing, let’s just go.” He insisted, urging him to move.
“Astarion, please. You need to tell me if something is hurting you. Halsin said—”
“I know what Halsin said!” He exclaimed, and then heavily sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Sorry.”
“It’s quite alright.” He replied, and began moving again.
They made it to the room in complete silence, and kept it that way even as he helped arrange the pillows for the vampire and his injured leg.
“Gale.” Astarion said, before he could leave the room. “Please come here.”
Gale stood staring as Astarion scooted over in the bed, patting the space left for him. Which was weird, but…
He walked closer, and sat down right there. Their shoulders touched, and he could feel the lack of warmth coming from the vampire’s preternatural body. And then, very hesitantly, Astarion’s head came to rest on his shoulder, his soft curls caressing his neck. His breathing stopped, his heart as well. He looked down to see a mess of curls and pointy ears tinted a bit red from the blood he’d been consuming earlier.
He hesitantly moved his arm and placed it across the vampire's back, his heartbeat startling when he felt the elf sagging further into his hold, pressing himself closer to him.
“Astarion…?”
“Shh. No more questions.” He whispered, his voice airy. It sent shivers down his spine, and made him remember the times they shared together. “Gods, I missed this.”
“My body heat?” He said, trying to make light of this.
“You.” Astarion said instead, snuggling closer.
He held him a bit tighter, as an answer. Soon enough, the vampire’s pantomime breathing started slowing, falling into a deep and rhythmic one. He had fallen into sleep, once again forgoing trancing.
Which was weird, because nighttime was starting, and he was a nocturnal creature. His rational mind couldn’t stop thinking about this fact. Why was he awake during the day and sleep so much? Was it because he needed it for healing? But then again, during their journey together, he never slept even after catastrophic injuries that left him bed bound for a few days.
He’d definitely need to consult Halsin, as well as research the books he had taken from Blackstaff. Maybe he would even need to write the papers himself, considering how the academy library only had three miserable books concerning vampires, and one of them was about the dangers they posed against living beings.
With that last thought and sending one last look at the sleeping vampire resting against him, he carefully dislodged his arm from Astarion’s back and gently lowered him into the pillows. His face looked peaceful but the shadows remained, his complexion still unhealthy. Hopefully he’d be able to help him feel better and if not at least find the source of his discomfort.
Carefully arranging the covers over his sleeping form, he couldn’t help but feel uncertain about what just happened. Astarion had sought comfort in his hold, and it had left him feeling warm despite the cold. Perhaps the vampire also missed what they had, as much as himself did. Or maybe he was just cold and in need of some body warmth.
Whatever had happened only served to make his already hopeful heart beat faster.
Realizing he so wanted to kiss Astarion’s forehead for a good-night's kiss, he fled the room, remembering to leave the door open. He practically ran downstairs into the kitchen, where his mother and Tara were still sharing their afternoon tea.
This time though, there were no smiles. Morena seemed serious, her brow crunched up in worry.
“So this is the vampire?” She asked, straight to the point.
“Vampire spawn.” He amended, taking his place at the table. Tara floated a teacup in front of him, and he poured himself tea, adding two cubes of sugar (he really needed the extra energy).
Morena looked at his every movement, and he felt under her scrutiny once again.
“Tara told me things didn’t quite end right with him the last time you saw each other.” She said, and he sent a dirty look in Tara’s direction who simply groomed herself. Nosy tressym, always betraying him to his mother.
“It seemed that way. But…” he raised his cup and sipped a bit of tea before continuing. “Last week, a couple of my companions from my tadpole adventures came here and asked if I could give Astarion a place where he can stay safe while his leg heals. They already came with him, and explained the situation to me. And I honestly couldn’t say no, especially after one of them informed me that he’s living on the abhorrent sewers of Baldur’s Gate.”
“Oh, my sweet, kind son…” his mother coos, grabbing his hand. Her touch brings him comfort, and he gives her a small smile. “You always had a big heart, Gale. Even for the ones that didn’t deserve it.”
“Oh please, it was the basic thing to do. I couldn’t let him return to those horrid sewers with a messed up leg, especially considering he’s constantly hunted by everyone who he’s crossed at some point in his life. And he’s lived a long one, so you can imagine how many.”
“Even so, opening your home to one who has deeply hurt you is very generous, and even more considering he’s a dangerous creature of the night. But I must say, he’s quite the gentleman. I’m surprised, I thought he’d be a terrible man with an ice cold heart. And yet, here he was laughing at this old woman’s stories and sharing some of his own as if we were old friends!”
“He can be quite the alluring man. But then again, that’s one strategy he used to lure victims to his former master. His charming words.” And he had fallen for them too.
“Oh.” She dejectedly whispered. “Still… I felt it was genuine, I didn’t think he was faking it.”
“Ms. Dekarios is right.” Added Tara. “He looked delightful, brighter than these past days.”
“Perhaps he’s feeling lonely.” Morena mused, a sad smile forming on her face. “You did say he’s been living alone while hiding from danger. I feel that doesn’t leave much time for menial socializing.”
Gale hummed at this, pondering her words, and remembering what had just happened upstairs. The vampire did seem lonely, but he’d never admit it in the open. He didn’t like appearing vulnerable.
“Perhaps you’re right.”
“Of course I am, mothers know these things.” She smugly said, a glint in her eyes. “The poor dear looks starved for affection, but he doesn’t know how to receive it or ask for it.”
Now that was too on the nose! His mother really had a sixth sense for these things, more so than himself.
Maybe mothers did know best.
“I just want him to feel safe.” He admitted, feeling a bit of embarrassment at saying it out loud. “He has never had a safe place where he can finally stop constantly looking over his back for danger.”
Morena softly smiled at him, her warm brown eyes full of love.
“I think he’ll realize sooner or later he’s finally found that place, dear.”
Nighttime had arrived, and with it his mother's departure from his tower. After helping up with tidying the kitchen she left with encouraging parting words about his guest, a suspicious glint in her brown eyes. 'Patience, my dear, for things come around sooner than later.' she had said, and he suspected Tara had told her more than necessary about their dallies during their adventures. He would definitely need a talk with Tara about boundaries and whatnot. Some things were better left unknown to his mother, lest she obsessed about his love life again.
And there was no use in thinking about it anyway. It was dead as the plants in the balcony he forgot to assign an unseen servant when he left his tower before getting snatched by a mindflayer ship.
He slowly and almost lazily went up the stairs, feeling like having a nice bath before bed. He had class tomorrow too, but with the younger pupils, so chaos was not expected but guaranteed.
Crossing the hall, his eyes couldn't help but roll towards Astarion's room. The warm arcane lights looked inviting, and he felt a pull towards the vampire he didn't think he could resist.
And he didn't. He walked straight to the room, stopping before he could enter. Inside, the vampire was awake, and looked uncomfortable. He immediately grew concerned, and harrumphed to make his presence known to Astarion. The elf's eyes snapped in his direction.
"Gale!" He whined, his lips forming a pout. "You have to help me!"
And his hands flew to his wrapped leg, futilely trying to scratch over the hard plaster. Gale sighed in relief.
"Is it starting to itch?"
"Terribly so!" He complained, and scratched harder. "I'm this close to tearing this horrid thing off!"
"Please don't." he pleaded, and walked closer to him. "Let me see what I can do."
Astarion kept pouting even as he sat down in front of him, mindful of his leg. He hesitated for a few seconds before hovering his hand over the cast, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He could feel Astarion's eyes on him, closely following his movements.
"And? Can you actually do something or you're just bluffing?" He scoffed, and Gale tutted.
"I've heard of a way to calm uncontrollable itching that involves a bit of ice magic. It creates a cool sensation around the appendage, and soothes deep itching." He said, moving his hand up and down Astarion's lower leg. "I can try to cast it and see if it helps?"
"Anything to get this terrible itching to disappear." He agreed.
"But you have to let me know if anything hurts, alright?"
"I'm not made of glass, you know?"
"I know. But I don't want to cause unnecessary pain."
Astarion scoffed, clearly exasperated. Gale decided to continue without another word, not wanting to add to the vampire's sour mood.
Muttering the spell for chilling touch and making sure it was a weakened version of the one used for battles, he assigned it to his right hand and gently placed it over the hard plaster. With the other he cast a light gust of wind, and combined both to create a cooling wind that distributed all along the encased limb.
Astarion's relief was instantaneous. He sagged further in the bed, a long sigh leaving his lips.
"Oh yes, that's much better…" He breathy said, closing his eyes. "Thank you, my dear."
Having completed his small mission, Gale dispelled his magic and sat back. His stomach did a somersault at Astarion's pet name, the one he used to call him before. His heart hurt once again, and he knew he had to leave before he did something impulsive.
But as he made motions to get up, Astarion's eyes opened and quickly stopped him with a hand on his thigh. He quirked an eyebrow at him, expectant.
But the vampire didn't say a word. Instead, he lowered his eyes but his hand remained on him. Feeling a burst of courage and throwing caution to the wind, he placed his own hand atop his, the cold sensation greeting him like an old friend. Astarion's eyes searched his own, and when they met he could see the uncertainty behind them. He looked vulnerable, something he hadn't seen ever since Cazador's fall, when they shared an intimate moment at the cemetery just in front of the vampire's grave.
He curled his fingers around Astarion's hand, feeling his warmth begin to transfer to him. It was what the vampire loved the most; how he could find warm comfort in his arms, how he could steal his warmth and make it his own. They spent hours cuddling together after their precious lovemaking, with Astarion lying on his chest.
He scooted closer, leaning in and trying to make out what was going inside the vampire's head. Astarion's hand hadn't moved but he hadn't reciprocated either.
"Tell me what's on you mind." He asks in a whisper, searching for Astarion's red eyes.
But the vampire shook his head.
"Please don't ask me that." He pleaded, and interlocked their fingers together. "I wouldn't know how to answer."
Gale squeezed his hand, having missed him for so long.
"Then, is there anything I can do for you?"
"Stay?" He asked, finally lifting his eyes and finding his own. "Maybe we could read together, like we used to. I could certainly use the company and entertainment."
Gale smiled, and patted his hand before standing up.
"I have just the book for that." He chuckles, remembering the awful book Astarion was sure to love.
"Gods! How dare you!?"
And Gale loses it. His stomach hurts from laughter as he stares at the completely aghast expression on the other man's face, until Astarion sends the book flying to his face. With a yelp he falls back in the bed, his nose aching something fierce.
"That was too much of a reaction!"
"It's your fault for making me read that absolutely disgusting trash you dared to call a book!" He shoots back, crossing his arms. Gale lifts himself up while rubbing his nose, and grabbed the offending book now sporting ruffled pages from the rough treatment.
"Serves me right for showing you this." He laments, and then giggles at the memory of Astarion's face. "But it was totally worth it in my opinion."
"Oh so now you're laughing at my expense. What a truly wonderful host you're being!"
"So offering you a roof, a comfortable bed and warm blood makes me a poor host?"
"A terrible one! I might need to sue you for the emotional damages."
"And pray tell where will you find a barrister that is willing to defend a vampire?"
"I don't have to, I'll be my own. Or did you forget I used to be a magistrate back then?"
"I don't think your old baldurian's laws apply here in Waterdeep."
"And now you're calling me old?! The audacity of this wizard whose knees crack louder than a hog on heat!" He exclaims, a hand on his chest and acting offended.
But he couldn't hide the teasing smile, the glint in his eyes. And they both end up in laughter, with Gale feeling lighter than he has in weeks, and as if he had just recovered something he thought long lost.
The next morning, as he ate breakfast and read the newspaper, Astarion descended once again from his bedroom, finally using the crutches and the portal. He immediately invited him to sit with him at the table, fetching a mug of warm blood for him. As he awkwardly hobbled to the table, Gale pushed back a chair and helped him sit down, placing a small stool with a pillow on top for his leg.
They settled into a quiet and comfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by Astarion asking about the current affairs of Waterdeep (and honestly just about the gossip part of the news). Tara flew in and prepared herself the usual morning tuna plate, happily settling beside Astarion, cast animal speaking on the elf, and engaged in cheerful conversation with them.
As Gale lowered the newspaper and finished drinking his tea, he overlooked them both, feeling a warm and content sensation settle deep within his breast.
He loved him. He knew he had made the right choice by inviting him the first time. He only wished Astarion saw it too, how he fit perfectly into his life, and he longed for a future where he could remain with him for the rest of it. But he couldn't force him to stay.
Still, with how things were developing lately, he still dared himself to hope.
"Now would you look at the time!" He exclaimed, already realizing he might be running late if he didn't start moving now. "I have to go." He announces, getting up and gathering his used teacup.
"You really have to?" Said Astarion, surprising him. He actually sounded disappointed.
"The children of today's class can't stay unsupervised even for a few seconds, I'm afraid." He apologizes.
Astarion's lower lip protruded in a sulky pout.
"I can't stay unsupervised either. Who knows what kind of danger I might befall into this time?" He says, dramatically, and even adding the damsel in distress hand on his forehead for further effect.
"Astarion…"
"I'm just dying of boredom, darling! I can't do fun stuff with this feeble leg of mine."
"Like what, engaging in criminal acts of the thieving kind?"
"Precisely." He grins, but it soon falls. He indeed looks like he isn't looking forward to staying idle in bed. He takes pity on him, already thinking about doing something about it.
"Tell you what," He starts, offering a hand to the vampire, who hesitantly takes it, and helps him get up from the table. "I'll open a portal to my library. You're welcome to read anything you find there."
"Anything?" His expressions finally brightens, looking forwards to the prospect of an endless supply of books just for him.
"Anything." He smiles, and makes a hand gesture for him to wait.
He easily opens another portal just beside the one leading to his bedroom, and makes it glow a soft purple colour to help differentiate them.
"All done." He says, sounding satisfied. "Just be careful when moving through them, especially with those." he gestures to the crutches.
"I'll be fine, I'll be mastering these in a few hours." He shrugs. "And thank you again. You're truly the best of all hosts."
"You flatter me, your majesty."
"Oh do keep calling me that, will you?" He preens, a half smile showing one sharp fang.
"Have a nice reading day, Astarion."
"Hold on." He suddenly grabs his arm, and manages to plant a quick peck on his cheek. "Have a good day too, darling."
And he hobbles through the portal, leaving an open-mouthed Gale with a hand grazing his kissed cheek.
Later that same day, after he was back from having arguably the most arduous class of the week, he was greeted by a grinning vampire and a happy tressym on the kitchen table, sharing what definitely was gossip, one mug of warm blood snug in the pale elf's hands.
And all stress and aches were gone in an instant at the sight of that bright, content smile.