Chapter Text
Gale’s attraction did not abate. Not even by a little. It had in fact, begun to grow. Festering within him like an unattended wound, consuming him like wildfire. Tav’s effect on him is undeniable, and it is only with Tav that he feels the depth of this blooming desire.
Dangerous business. To be even entertaining such thoughts with his volatile condition. Gale tries his best not to think about it.
Try, being a word to be given emphasis.
The said source of it all is a few distance away from him, filling the other side of their camp with the sound of clashing swords as Tav spars with the ‘Blade of Frontiers’. The blades are the least of his focus though, as Gale is treated to one of the rare times when Tav is actually shirtless. Revealing his scarred torso for everyone to see, shining faintly under the morning sun due to his golden scales, and with his back turned to Gale, his eyes could not help but move to trace the appealing flex of muscles as it strained.
Gale feels the sharp pain in his hand and hisses in response, accidentally dropping the potato he had been in the middle of paring. He sighs.
“Maybe you should actually focus peeling those before you do more than slice your fingers” Shadowheart says helpfully, watching Gale and the object of his blatant appreciation with obvious amusement as she assists him with their breakfast preparations.
“Ha! I’m sure he would prefer something else of his stabbed instead, especially by our dear Tav. You poor hopeless thing.” Astarion laughs, looking up from the book he had been perusing to leer at him.
Gale bristles. He frowns at the spawn disapprovingly. “I am most certainly not pining, appreciating the aesthetics of one’s body does not mean I am pining. Not everyone leans into the same vapid idea of ‘encounters’ as you, to immediately jump into bed with the nearest willing body.”
Astarion scoffs, opening his mouth to retort when footsteps approach them and suddenly Gale finds Tav in front of him, looming.
“Do you guys need any help?” Tav asks, before seeming to realize something and shifting a bit farther to the side in a less intrusive manner. It does not stop Tav’s scent from reaching Gale; the smell of earth and sandalwood that makes warmth rush to Gale’s cheeks and takes his voice away. Just like that day of rain he spent cuddled up to Tav for warmth.
It is Astarion that answers for them, smugness practically dripping from his voice. “Oh, I’d say we’re doing fine here, if not for Gale bleeding all over his fingers. You should get that looked at, dear.”
Silence.
“Gale?”
“Chest– I mean yes? I-I am quite alright.” Gale hastily tears his eyes away from Tav, rushing to pour water on his fingers. He resolutely does not look anywhere else. A beholder could turn him into stone right now, and he would not mind it one bit. “Just a moment of carelessness. I’ll recover.”
Tav chuffs. “Let me help you with the cooking then. But first, some salve for you. How about I take a look at your fingers and see what I can do?”
Gale chokes on air, whipping his head up to look at Tav that bore a genuine guileless expression. Near him, he can hear Astarion and Shadowheart burst into snickers like teenagers.
“I…” Gale takes a moment to recover his bearing, lest he humiliates himself any further that he already has. ”- appreciate the concern, truly, but it’s a simple cut. One that Shadowheart already offered to help with.”
“I did n-“
“Most gracious of her, indeed.” Gale grits out with a pointed smile. Shadowheart finally opts to remain blessedly silent.
Tav blinks. He takes a moment to look at all of them skeptically before acquiescing. Thank the gods. “If you’re certain. I’ll be by the creek with Wyll if any of you need me.”
The dragonborn leaves. A pregnant silence follows.
“If you have nothing helpful to say, please do not utter it.” Gale snaps.
And because of course, Astarion can, the spawn laughs in his face. “Not pining, he says. A deep rothé in heat would be more discreet than you, darling.”
It is not in his nature to let certain things be unsaid but between the orb, the tadpoles, and the Absolute nonsense, fanning the flames in his heart seems like a bad idea altogether. He does not even know how much time left he has to live.
Maybe, a small part of him whispers, the origin for this hesitation is the thin thread of hope that Mystra would take him back. That she would see past his transgressions and forgive him. Any moment now preferably.
Then again, who is he fooling? It’s been more than a year or more. No matter how many prayers or cries of apologies he has desperately offered during that period, the orb still sitting upon his chest very much proves that she would forever leave him like this, walking a fine line between alive and dead. That any day now, this… tangible proof of his folly and her abandonment sitting on his chest will erupt and she would remain uncaring of a foolish mortal such as him.
Such is the way of gods.
It is the need to seek out something familiar, Gale decides to conjure the image of Mystra upon the palm of his hand. Self-flagellating as it is, there is none that Gale can conjure that would represent magic itself better. To represent what he has Lost.
Before, he could conjure fire in form of a dragon and let it roar with but a wave of his hand. Now, what remains of his abilities only let him conjure a paltry illusion of his former lover. The bright time when he was all but one with the Weave completely behind him.
He supposes he can at least count himself lucky that he has not been banned from the use of the Weave altogether.
“That’s Mystra isn’t it? Mother of All Magic herself” A voice breaks the silence of his own company, effectively cutting through his maudlin thoughts of the night. – It’s Tav, Gale realizes, and he suddenly finds his strength to dismiss the spell with a small gesture.
Gale feels embarrassment rush up to him, feeling like he was caught doing something he was not supposed to do. “Oh! My, you startled me. I... I was miles away.”
Tav looks at him with concern, coming closer to step carefully into his own pocket of privacy that he intentionally sought out to brood upon, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the camp. “Is everything alright?”
“Of course, of course. I was just... practicing an incantation” Gale hurriedly answers. “What brings you out here?”
The dragonborn shrugs. In his arms, Gale can see a bundle of fabric. “Can’t sleep. I was planning to …think out here before I found you.” Tav moves closer to the lake, unbundling the fabric to reveal a bottle of wine that Tav puts down with care before he spreads the blanket on the ground to sit on it. He pats the space on the blanket beside him as an invitation. “Guess we both had the same idea.”
“Something tells me it is not just thinking that you were planning on doing.” Gale accuses with a weak smile. He moves to sit down beside Tav, the dragonborn shuffling to make more space for Gale to occupy. The blanket’s width was not enough to put distance between their shoulders, and it allowed Gale to feel the heat radiating from Tav’s body; easily staving off some of the evening chill from completely settling in on him.
The look on Tav when he grinned at Gale is utterly charming. Tav proudly takes the bottle he set down within arm’s reach to show it off to Gale. “Turmian wine. Authentic and definitely not acquired from a merchant through a questionable deal.”
Gale nods. “Far be it from me to question the origins of a good, free wine. So long as it’s not poisonous of course.” It’s most likely not that shady of a deal, knowing Tav. The dragonborn seems far too noble for it.
Tav chuckles, warm and low. Pull yourself together Gale. “It’s safe. You can trust me.” He opens the bottle, the smell of the wine immediately wafting out. Gale knows a full-bodied wine when he smells one.
As if to prove his point, the dragonborn then drinks straight out of the bottle, offering the bottle to Gale before speaking once more: “I’m feeling a little bit homesick so I figured the familiar wine from my homeland would smooth over my feelings for a bit. But you look like you need this more than me.”
It makes Gale snort softly as he takes the bottle, feeling a bit warmer when their fingers brush against each other. “I suppose I do. And I feel the same. I’ve never been so far out from Waterdeep. Except maybe for a rare conference here and there, where wizards of my caliber and renown are heavily encouraged to attend. Even then, we had a way of transportation that did not require this much legwork and too many close calls with death.”
Tav huffs in amusement. “Too used to all the magical convenience? I can’t say I blame you. There’s no place like home.”
Gale peers up into Tav’s eyes. Though the dragonborn seems to be in a lighter mood, Tav seems unable to completely tame the emotions mirrored by his own at this moment. Loneliness. Longing –Gale drinks from the bottle, giving a small hum of appreciation when the flavor sits pleasant and heavy on his tongue. He stares at the expanse of the lake, its calm waters illuminated by the moon. “Indeed. There’s no reason to refuse convenience afforded to us by our own merits. I mean no offense to you when I say this but how you practice with magic is far different from how I do it. Magic is... my life. I've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it.”
It's everything. As far as Gale knows. “It's like music, poetry, physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses…” He turns to Tav, wishing that he could explain it better. To put into words how all-encompassing and beautiful it is.
But maybe, he needs not.
“Why don’t I show you?”
They do not talk about it after.
That night, whatever had transpired between both of them, it seemed that Tav was keen to put the subject to rest for now… or possibly for a long time.
It occurred to Gale that whatever Tav had shown him, it had also been a complete surprise on the dragonborn’s end. An unrealized notion that was accidentally revealed between the two of them due to the intimacy gifted by the weave.
A hand on his cheek, their faces close enough for a tease of a kiss. A scene so intimate that it can’t be something other than a desire for something more. The intimacy of it all hidden within such a chaste gesture that makes Gale’s heart race.
How could Tav be so confused right after? Could Tav had been influenced by Gale’s own feelings? Gale had been somewhat relieved that his regard turned out to be returned in some capacity, but he worries that he must have accidentally allowed some of his feelings to leak as Tav’s conduit.
After that revelation, Gale had simply given a hasty excuse and awkwardly left. The event most certainly did not keep him awake all night. Or the following nights, for that matter.
Patience is not one of Gale’s better virtues. It’s been a tenday since that night and Gale had tried to get a moment alone with Tav to speak to no avail, it’s not even the dragonborn’s fault. Their life on the road is perilous and often times filled with the lack of privacy. But Gale can’t not know. The lack of knowledge on this matter irks him, more so when the unbidden thought of being unwanted constantly swims up to the surface of his thoughts. He’s not keen to be stuck in an embroglio during whatever days he has left.
It is after they had dealt with the camp of goblin cultists that they finally had a chance to talk. But Gale would have preferred he had been in much better condition really.
“Gale? May I come in?” Tav calls out from outside Gale’s tent. Gale, try as he might, could not even sit up by himself even if he wants to. His wounds had been healed enough to stop the bleeding but he still felt like one big contusion. Those nettlesome goblins in the camp certainly did a number on them.
They have all come out of it alive in the end fortunately, if not a bit worse for wear.
“Yes! Of course. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m less than genial, the pain is starting to affect my mood I’m afraid.“ As if enduring the orb draining away at his strength prior to his wounds was not bad enough.
A scaled hand gingerly pushes the tent entrance open, revealing Tav bathed in the afternoon light. It almost hurt Gale to look at him from this angle, but it’s a relief he seems to be faring better than him.
“That’s what I’m here to help with. Astarion has had enough of being in hearing range of your very… verbal distress and sent me to do something about it.“ Tav smiles, showing him a bowl of mixture that seemed almost... dangerous. If one would look closely, he could swear he just saw faces of the undead wailing within the concoction.
“Surely, you don’t expect me to drink that.” Gale says, apprehensive.
“It’s not that bad.” Tav assures, which did nothing at all to allay Gale’s fears. ”The taste takes some getting used to, but it’s effective. My dad used to make this for me whenever I get heavily injured.”
Gale looks at Tav dubiously.
Tav’s smile turns sheepish, offering a hand to Gale to help him sit up. “It won’t kill you?”
Gale takes the hand with a wry smile. “I suppose it would relieve my pain one way or another.” What’s the worst thing that could happen by drinking a suspicious brew that Tav himself made?
Him tasting indescribable hells apparently.
Good gods.
Gale could only cough after quickly gulping down the foul concoction, trying his best not to gag. Tav gently patting Gale’s back in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain his brew had just inflicted upon him. Though its effect is immediately apparent –Gale’s wound have stopped smarting for one- he would rather never drink the unholy thing that Tav had managed to concoct for him. Never again.
“You did well.” Tav beams once Gale’s coughs have subsided, the dragonborn’s hand remaining at Gale’s back almost comfortingly. He flushes at the praise.
Gale refuses to acknowledge it. If he leans in a little at the touch, no one else is there to call him out on it. He feels its rather deserved after what Tav had just put him through.
“I do hope you have a little more than that to make up for what I had just put in my mouth.” Confectionaries would probably be far too unrealistic of an expectation, but one could certainly hope.
“I can certainly think of better things to have inside of one’s mouth.” Tav answers, eyes twinkling.
Gale stared.
“You’ve been saying those things in such a suggestive manner all this time knowingly haven’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tav answers, a little too quickly. He takes his hand off Gale’s back to himself.
“Lies do not become you Tav.” Gale says sternly, but then smiles, despite himself. “But I understand we must find our fun somewhere. You’re fortunate that I find you too charming to even be cross with you.”
Suddenly, the atmosphere turns odd. Tav’s gaze slides away from Gale. For a brief moment, he fears he may have said something wrong, but Tav speaks up before he even dares voice it.
“Gale. I apologized for what happened that night... with that Weave.”
Gale’s heart drops.
“–Not to say that they weren’t true!“ Tav hurriedly tacks on, panicked. “I just… I didn’t expect that I… towards you…” Tav says, scratching his cheek. Their surroundings seemed a little too hot all of a sudden. The dragonborn makes a helpless sort of gesture at Gale before finally burrowing his hands in front of him. “Just- sorry that I shut down on you that night. Dealing with feelings around romance is not something I’m well-versed in. That I like you in that way was a surprise. Especially not this fast.”
“I can tell.” Gale smiles, elated. Tav’s normally unshakeable composure is nowhere to be seen, and there’s something to be said about seeing an individual his size so flustered because of him that sets his heart aflutter.
Of course, ever the spoilsport, the orb pulses threateningly from all the emotions Tav has just set off.
Gale decides to push his luck, just a little. “Not to worry, your regard is certainly returned. Most welcome, in fact.” With boldness Gale didn’t think he has, he softly reaches for Tav’s feverish-hot hands that was still doing its valiant attempt at hiding the dragonborn. Tav acquiesces with Gale’s wordless request and lets go of his face, peeking down at Gale with those deep sapphire eyes that seemed more precious than anything. “I can’t promise anything for now, with my condition as volatile as it is, but know that if it weren’t for that, I would have done a lot more to get to know you better.”
“A lot more?” Tav huffs a laugh, turning Gale’s hands so Tav is the one cradling both of Gale’s hands and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Gale can’t quite read all of the emotions contained within his eyes, but the tenderness and sincerity in it makes his face feel hot. “This is fine for now. Any more and I think I would end up burning your tent. In fact, I should let you rest.” To Gale’s disappointment, Tav lets go of his hands to move to the tent entrance, opening it to let some of the cool breeze inside the tent that was starting to swelter.
Gale had not even realized it was getting too hot. Tav presence normally does not raise the temperature this high. His curious mind leads to the most likely question: If Tav himself is aware of it, does that mean Tav’s temperature rise when he’s embarrassed or flustered?
Regardless, Gale sees reason in his words. “That… would be for the best. I’m afraid this much intensity is starting to get to the orb.” Undoubtedly, his thoughts would spiral again and Tav not being there to witness it would be a far better scenario.
“We’ll find a way to cure your condition, Gale. I promise.” Tav answers softly, pausing near the entrance.
“I highly doubt that, but thank you, nonetheless.”
Tav grins. “I can be pretty good at finding things. I’m not from the ‘Land of Surprises’ for nothing.”
Gale feels himself smile. “That, I can believe.” And he truly does. If any mortal can perform miracles, he thinks Tav might just be one of the few to do it.
The dragonborn heads out, leaving Gale once more to ponder upon the aftermath.
Try as he might to rest, with the residual warmth and comforting scent Tav had left behind, it is nigh impossible to keep his thoughts from wandering back to the dragonborn.
He feels as if he’s at the precipice of something. Between their promises and non-promises, the great unknown stretched out so vastly ahead of them… Tav feels like a monsoon; of the shift of winds leading up to a storm. The ramifications of which embracing such event can only be known to time itself.
Gods. Does he want. He wants Tav in a way that is more than physical. The warmth that Tav invokes within him just by being here is profound. Caring for Gale so selflessly despite him being this... this shadow of a wizard that he once was, the effect of it all sliding so neatly in between the cracks of hurt that have left him dry for so long.
The world couldn’t be more unfair, for him to meet Tav under these unfortunate circumstances.
It may be too fast, it may be too soon. But it does not stop his heart from wanting, wishing, feeling.
Oh no, Gale thinks, a little helplessly.