Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gale comes to in the glare of harsh overhead lights, the stinging smell of antiseptic, and a cacophony of beeping monitors and hurried voices around him. His arms feel excruciating, but when he lifts them to get a better look, he finds them heavily bandaged and restrained to the bed. Just as he’s about to panic, he hears a voice from above him.

“Hey there, soldier! You’re at the Emergency Room at Open Hand Hospital in Baldur’s Gate. Looks like you’ve had a rough day. How are you feeling?” An enormous tiefling woman towers over him, dressed in a pair of black scrubs.

It takes him a moment to orient himself, but the pieces and memories slowly start to slot into place.

Making sure he was alone in the house, arranging the notes on his kitchen counter, drawing up a hot lavender-scented bath, taking his favorite chef's knife, and climbing in. Despite his anguish, he remembers having the resolute feeling he was doing the right thing before everything faded to black. That resolve turns to shame as he realizes he’s failed at the one thing he was supposed to do.

After a moment he shakes his head and looks up at the tiefling. “You’re correct to assume my day hasn’t been great. I feel miserable, to be honest with you.”

“Hmmm… Are you in any physical pain? Based on how you came in, I think it’s safe to say you’re in quite some pain emotionally.”

“My wrists really hurt. More than I expected them to, to be honest.”

“Believe it or not, I hear that quite a lot. One of our doctors stitched up your wounds, but they were quite deep. It’s probably why they’re so painful. I’ll give you some more pain medication in a moment, but I need to ask you some questions before the medication makes you completely out of it.”

Gale nods, already anticipating what she’s going to ask.

She turns to pick up a clipboard and a pen, then stops abruptly. “I realized I forgot to introduce myself before. I’m Karlach Cliffgate, I’m a nurse here at the emergency room. Before I ask you anything, you should know that it’s okay to not answer. I’m just trying to get an idea of what’s going on, so they know how to treat you when we get you admitted into the psychiatric ward.”

Gale smiles weakly at her. “I’m Gale Dekarios”.

“Nice to meet you, Gale. Let’s just get into it, shall we? Did you try to end your life today?”

He nods, tears flooding his eyes.

“Have you tried to do that before, or was this the first time?”

His voice drops to nearly a whisper. “The first time.”

“What led up to it today?”

The lines come out robotically, almost rehearsed. “I’m just such a burden to everyone, and I’m just dragging everyone else down with me. I felt like I finally had all my affairs in order, I even got Shadowheart to take Tara in. The world would just be a better place without me.”

“Shadowheart is your friend, and Tara is your cat, right? Shadowheart is the one who found you today and called an ambulance. She said she came over because you weren’t answering your phone, something about missing Tara’s medication?”

Gale starts to sob at the thought of Shadowheart finding him in the bathtub, unconscious and covered in blood. He sobs even harder when he realizes he forgot to give her Tara’s medication. What an idiot, can’t even do that right for his oldest friend.

“Hey, Gale, it’s okay. Shadowheart is just happy you got here in time, and she said Tara is fine. Can I wipe some of these tears? I’m sorry, but I can’t undo your restraints down here. Too many ways for you to get hurt.”

He nods again, and Karlach gently dabs at his eyes, wiping his tears away.

“This is obviously tough for you, so I’ll keep the rest of this short. You’ll go through everything with the team up in psychiatry anyway. Don’t worry, we’ve got Dr. Silverbough up there today, and he’s lovely. He’ll get you sorted out in no time at all.”

“Right then, this question is mostly for me so can give you painkillers that won’t interfere with anything. Did you take any medication, alcohol, or any other substances today before your suicide attempt?”

Gale shakes his head. “No, and to be honest I’ve been forgetting to take my antidepressants lately.”

“That’s fine, then I know what I can give you. I think that’s enough questions for now. Is there anyone you’d like me to call before I let psychiatry know you’re awake and get you some painkillers?”

“Yes. I’d like you to call my girlfriend, Mystra.”

Chapter Text

Halsin’s voice carries calm in Gale’s room, despite the blood rushing in his ears. “Could you repeat what you just said? I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

“Mystra told me that I should kill myself before I wasted any more of her time and energy. She said it was the only way for me to redeem myself from being an absolute waste of a person. So I did. Or at least I tried to.”

“And now, when the nurse found you crying next to the phone? What happened there?”

“She told me she was leaving me. That I couldn’t even die right because I’m such a useless idiot.”

 “What about that made you emotional?”

Gale sniffles, balling up a tissue in his fist. “She left me! She’s right. I can’t finish anything! Not my dissertation, not my PhD, not even this.”

Halsin takes a deep breath. “Gale, her telling you to kill yourself is domestic violence. It’s not right. No one should ever tell someone else to commit suicide. If you had died, she could be tried for manslaughter.”

Gale buries his face in his palms. “But she’s right. It’d just be easier for everyone if I’d died.”

“That’s not true, Gale. We’ve talked about this. You have friends and family who care about you, and who would miss you if you died.”

“I don’t know, Dr. Silverbough. It still feels like she’s right.”

“What would you tell Shadowheart if her partner told her to kill herself?”

Gale’s mouth falls open, realization hitting him like a freight train.

Halsin nods, Gale’s reaction exactly as intended.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts for a moment, Gale. We’re scheduled for a session in 15 minutes, but let’s take a short break before then. I’ll see you in my office soon.”

Gale nods as Halsin steps out of the room into the corridor. The psychiatrist steps away from the window in the door, then lets out a deep sigh. He wishes it was rare to see this kind of abuse in relationships, but it happens all too often. He feels slightly relieved that Mystra seems to have ended their relationship. All Halsin has to do now is make Gale see that going back would be a harmful choice, though he knows it’s easier said than done. He hopes that bringing a friend into the question will help Gale see more clearly.

Halsin is no stranger to harmful relationships himself, particularly in his youth. He rubs the scars on his ribs through his coat, reminders of his time with Val, the woman he moved across the Sword Coast to flee from.

Glancing at the clock, he sees he’s only got a few minutes until Gale’s session. He opens the curtains to let in the view and turns on the green lava lamp on his table. It matches the worn forest green armchairs he inherited from his predecessor Jaheira when he joined Open Hands Hospital five years ago. He sits down in the chair closest to his desk.

A knock sounds at the door.

“Come in!”

Gale steps in, clearly still teary-eyed after his conversation with Mystra.

“Hello again, Gale. I see we’re coming up on a week in the hospital, which is halfway through your stay with us. How do you feel about that?”

Gale pauses, thoughtful. “I feel conflicted. As much as I know I need to be here, and I’m in a much better place than when I came, I haven’t always wanted to be here. I was so upset when I woke up in the ER, and I wanted nothing more than to leave and try again.

Now that I’ve been here, I’m afraid of having to leave in a week. And I don’t know what to do now that I don’t have Mystra anymore. She told me she never wanted to hear from me again.”

“That is difficult. We will help you transition to being back home when the time comes, and you will be in intense outpatient therapy to start with. You will still meet with me, but you won’t stay in the hospital. I also have some support groups in mind for you that I think could be helpful. Does that ease any of your worries about going home?”

Gale nods as Halsin continues. “It sounds like you no longer have the same ideations as you did when you arrived. Is that the case?”

Gale nods again, then clarifies. “Yes, I no longer want to kill myself. My self-hatred is still no better, but I’m beginning to see that suicide isn’t how I should move forward.”

“Good to hear. We’ll work through the negative feelings about yourself while you’re here, and you’ll continue to work through it in outpatient therapy once you go home. How are your wrists, by the way?”

“They’re feeling a lot better now. They still hurt a little every now and then, but not nearly as badly as the first few days.”

“You were quite lucky. The surgeon who consulted on your wrists in the ER said that if you’d cut two millimetres left on your left hand, you would have snapped your tendon, and there wouldn’t have been anything they could have done to fix it. I understand you weren’t concerned with that at the time, but it may be a small comfort now.”

“I suppose I have that to be grateful for. It doesn’t help much, considering the ruin my life is in now. I don’t even have Mystra to support me anymore.”

“It can be hard to come back to your everyday life after attempting suicide, but it can be done, and I’m confident that you can do it too, Gale. We will come back to this later, but I hope you come to see that Mystra has not been supporting you or acting in your best interest, and that she has been abusive towards you in your relationship. I hope you think about what I asked you – if it were Shadowheart instead of you.”

Gale nods, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He resolves to return to it later when he can be alone.

The rest of the session passes quickly, Gale and Halsin discussing changes to Gale’s medication regimen and therapy schedule and planning visits from Shadowheart and Gale’s mother Morena for the following two evenings.

After the session, Gale leaves and walks back to his room. It’s small and institutional, but it’s his. It took him a while to stop thinking about how everything in the room is designed to stop people from hurting or killing themselves, down to the door handles and rounded furniture.

When he was first admitted, he tried to find some way to try again, but the more therapy sessions he’s attended and the more he’s had time to think, Gale is now quite happy he didn’t succeed. It’s not hope that he feels, exactly, but the finality of suicide doesn’t sit right with him either. He’s nervous to talk to Shadowheart tomorrow, but Halsin said someone would have a word with her beforehand to apprise her of what happened.

She’s his oldest friend apart from Tara, and he’s already preparing the apologies for what she must have seen and the worry she must have felt, not knowing what had happened if he’d be okay. And he’s nervous to tell her about Mystra. Shadowheart has always hated Mystra with a passion, but she’s been civil for Gale’s sake. Shadowheart’s been civil, that is, not Mystra. While Gale doesn’t entirely believe what Halsin said about their relationship having been abusive, Shadowheart will certainly see it that way. She’s always said Mystra doesn’t treat Gale right, and he supposes that if it were someone else’s partner, encouraging someone to kill themselves would be a bad thing to do.

But those other people aren’t worthless – Gale is.  

He writes letters to read to Shadowheart and Morena during their visits with felt-tip pen. He hasn’t used one since he was in grade school, but now’s as good a time as any. He picks a dark purple for Shadowheart, which she’ll probably appreciate.

Shadowheart,
I don’t have the right words to say how sorry I am that you had to find me like that. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did, and I'm sorry. You’ve always been there for me, and I repaid that kindness by putting you through something no one should have to see. I can’t take it back, but I need you to know that I’m trying. Thank you for not giving up on me.

Gale picks a green marker for his mother because it reminds him of her front garden.

Mum,
I know you must be scared, confused, maybe even angry. I never wanted you to find out this way, but I was too lost to see what my choices would do to you. I don’t expect to make this better overnight, but I want to try. Please don’t give up on me.

Letters written, it’s all he can do to wait for the chance to read them.

Chapter Text

When Gale walks into the visiting room, Shadowheart is already there. She’s sitting at a table, twisting her platinum braid absentmindedly. She sees him and runs over to hug him, nearly tackling him in the process. Gale cracks a small smile and hugs her back.

They sit down at the table and silence fills the air.

“Hi, Shadowheart. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Gale. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

He raises one heavily stitched wrist to show her. “Well, that’s not saying much.”

“No, it isn’t”, Shadowheart says with a sad smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m feeling much better than the last time you saw me. Again, that’s not saying much. In all honesty, I’m still feeling rough, but it’s been good for me to be here. I wrote you a letter, to apologize for everything. Can I read it to you?”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, but of course, you can read it to me, Gale.”

Gale hesitates before he starts reading, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already are. Still, there’s no choice but to move on.

“Well then.

Shadowheart,
I don’t have the right words to say how sorry I am that you had to find me like that. I never wanted to hurt you, but I know I did, and I’m so sorry.

You’ve always been there for me, and I repaid that kindness by putting you through something no one should have to see.

I can’t take it back, but I need you to know that I’m trying. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Shadowheart is weeping when he finishes the letter, clutching the box of tissues the orderly handed her.

“Gale, I’m just glad you’re okay. I had no idea you were struggling. I feel so bad for not seeing the signs sooner. I should have known you would never have given Tara away. She’s your best friend. Apart from me, at least.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I was ashamed of myself, ashamed that I wanted to do that to myself.”

“Was it… about Mystra?”

“She played a part, yes.”

“I knew it! What did she do?”

“She… Convinced me the world would be better off without me.”

“That wretch! I’ll punch her face in if I ever see her again. Even if she’s with you.”

“You won’t have to, because she left me after the hospital called her. Told me to never contact her again.”

“Oh Gale, that’s awful. Even from her.”

“I’m so sorry, Shadowheart. For everything. It must’ve been awful to see.”

Shadowheart smirks, lining up a joke. “Yeah, seeing you naked was terrifying.

In all honesty, though, it was bad. Probably the scariest thing I’ve ever seen, you unconscious in a pool of blood. I thought you were dead at first. I was so happy when the hospital told me you’d be okay.”

“I’m truly sorry, Shadowheart. I wasn’t expecting anyone to find me, least of all you. I wasn’t thinking that far at all, to be honest.”

“I forgive you, Gale. Just promise you’ll try to get better. And that I’ll never have to find you like that again.”

“I will, Shadowheart. I can’t promise I’ll get better for good, but I’ll certainly try. No one will ever have to find me like that again.”

“Good. That’s all I wanted to hear. You’re my best friend, Gale. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be fine, Shadowheart. You have other friends.”

“None of them are you, Gale.”

It feels like Groundhog Day when Gale walks into the visiting room to see Morena. She’s sitting at the same table as Shadowheart the day before.

“Hi, mum.”

Morena’s gaze snaps up from where she’s fiddling with her jumper. She jumps up, sweeping Gale in for a tight hug. “Gale, darling! I was so worried about you. The hospital called me out of nowhere, telling me that you’d been admitted for a suicide attempt. Is that true?”

Gale swallows down the lump in his throat. “Yes, mum. It’s true. Shadowheart found me and called an ambulance.”

Morena only hugs him tighter, stroking up and down his back. She cries into his shoulder. “Oh, my sweet baby boy! I had no idea! What kind of mother doesn’t know her son is hurting like that?”

“Mum… I didn’t want you to know. No one knew. I was so ashamed, and I didn’t want to be a burden anymore.”

Morena pulls back, cradling his jaw. “You’re not a burden, Gale. You’re my son. I’m always here for you – good and bad.”

Gale pulls Morena in for another hug, resting his head on her shoulder. The height difference makes the gesture odd, so Gale soon pulls back and gestures for his mother to sit down.

He pulls out the letter he wrote to her from his pocket, which pulls up one of his sleeves and exposes one of his scars. Morena’s hand darts out to his upper arm.

“Gale… What happened to your wrist?”

“I think you can work it out, mum.”

This launches Morena into another crying fit. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it, Gale! You needed help, and I failed you.”

“Mum, there’s nothing you could have done. I have a letter for you. Can I read it?”

Once Morena’s crying has subsided, she nods. “Of course, love.”

Gale clears his throat once again and begins to read.

“Mum,
I know you must be scared, confused, and maybe even angry.

I never wanted you to find out this way, but I was too lost to see what my choices would do to you. I don’t expect to make this better overnight, but I want to try. Please don’t give up on me.”

Morena’s reply is instant. “Of course not, dear. I’m your mother, I’ll always be there for you.”

They sit in quiet for a moment as Morena contemplates what she’s heard. Emotions dealt with, she returns to mothering. She gives him a pointed once-over, checking him from head to toe. “How are they treating you here? Are they giving you enough to eat? Do you get enough time with the doctors?”

“It’s fine here, Mum. I’m getting everything I need, and I’m starting to understand what happened”.

“That’s good. Do you want to talk about it?”

Gale pauses. “It was… mostly about my relationships.”

Morena huffs. “Your relationship with Mystra, I take it?”

“Yes, but she’s ended that now. Was it truly that obvious?”

“Yes. She was awful to you, even in front of me. I just wish I had known she hurt you this badly so I could have talked to you about it sooner. She was abusive to you, not someone to trust and listen to.”

“So I hear.”

“I didn’t get to discuss this with anyone yet - do you know when you’ll get to go home?”

Gale takes a deep breath, already nervous for the time ahead. “It… Should be in a week or so.”

“Do you want to come live with me for a while? It may be easier to not be alone in the beginning.” Morena’s question is casual as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

To her, it is.

To Gale, who’s used to suppressing his feelings and needs in fear of how others will react, it’s very much not.

“I’d like that, mum. I’ll still be coming to the hospital a lot, but you live closer to here than I do anyway.”

“Of course. I’m happy to have you, and your room is still just as you left it. Come to think of it, you might want to change it now that you’re an adult instead of a teenager. We can take care of that later. The most important part is that you know where you’re going once you’re discharged.”

The orderly sitting in the corner clears her throat and signals that their time is up. Morena gives Gale one last hug and promises to come back at the next visiting hours.

As she waves him goodbye, Gale begins to cry. If only he’d realized sooner that there were people who cared for him so deeply, maybe he wouldn’t be here.

Chapter Text

The final week of Gale’s hospitalization passes quickly between group sessions, individual sessions with Halsin, and visits from Shadowheart and Morena, both of whom are determined to come to see him at every opportunity.

Morena has made all the necessary arrangements for him and Tara to come to stay with her, and she’s also the one who comes to pick him up on the day of his discharge from the hospital.

Her home is a small bungalow with a flourishing garden, lush flowers, and overflowing planters dominating the front lawn. It’s also where Gale spent his youth. As they open the front door, the familiar scent of fresh bread and herbs brings back happy memories of a simpler time.

“Welcome home, dear. Your room is ready, I’ve got bread cooling and I’m making moussaka for lunch. If you want to say hello to Tara, I expect she’s sleeping on your bed. I brought some of your clothes and books to your room, so I think it smells the most like you.”

“I’ll go say hello to Tara. I haven’t seen her in over two weeks, so I owe her at least a few pets by now.”

Gale follows the familiar corridor to his room, virtually unchanged from when he last lived here 15 years ago. The only difference is a duffel bag on his bed and a sleeping cat on his pillow.

Gale coos to her, reaching out to pet the top of her head. “Hello, Tara. Long time, no see, eh?” She cracks an eye open, jumping into his lap once she realizes who he is. She nuzzles her face into his chest, purring contentedly.

“Oh! Missed me, did you? Don’t worry, I’m here now.”

A tear springs to his eyes, knowing he might never have seen her again had things gone another way.

He hugs her into his chest as much as she’ll allow, scratching all the spots he knows no one else will have thought to pet her in.

Eventually, Morena calls him for lunch. It’s a hearty moussaka, one of his childhood favorites. She serves it with freshly baked bread and a salad. It’s miles better than anything Gale’s had in months, not having bothered to cook for himself once his depression got bad enough. They eat in silence, Morena topping off his plate once he finishes the first one.

“I’m going to watch some Great Cormyrian Bake-Off if you’d like to join me. But we can’t watch it for long, since I’m taking you to the hospital at 3 for your outpatient group.”

 “I think I’ll go sit with Tara for a bit longer. I also need to send some emails to work.”

“The hospital already sent them the information about your accident and your sick leave until the end of the month, so most of it should be clear.”

“I know, but I’d like to send a message to some of my coworkers. They deserve to know it wasn’t an accident.”

Morena nods grimly. “That’s fine. We’ll leave at 2.30, let me know if you need anything before then.”

Gale heads to his room to catch up with some of his colleagues. They’re as surprised as his mother and Shadowheart to hear about his hospitalization, but promise to welcome him back as soon as he feels up to it.

He takes a long shower, glad that his mother brought him everything he needs for his hair routine. In the end, the routine proves futile. After trying to detangle the mats in his hair for about 15 minutes, Gale gives up, resolving to find someone to help him later. He wraps his hair into a bun instead, enough to hide the worst of the matting.

He chooses a purple v-neck, black hoodie, and black jeans as well as a pair of cat socks to wear. No one will be able to see them, but he likes having a secret dash of whimsy in an otherwise serious outfit.

Morena drops him off at the hospital at 2.45, promising to pick him up after the group lets out. Gale has to ask for directions to find the room, but 10 minutes later, he finds it. There are already some people there, including a male tiefling, a woman he recognizes from his time on the ward, and… quite possibly the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.

He’s an elf, curly silver hair coiffed just so. The man is sitting in a chair examining his nails, which are painted a deep midnight blue.

Gale sits down in an available seat and pulls out his notebook and pen. Now that he’s allowed access to a pen, he wants to document any insights he gains from these sessions to refer back to later.

A few minutes later, Halsin walks into the room.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to the Thursday outpatient group. I’m Dr. Halsin Silverbough, and I’m the therapist facilitating this group.

Most of you have been here before, but since there are a few new faces, why don’t we take a round of introductions? Just your name and how long you’ve been coming here is enough.”

The tiefling goes first. “I can start. My name is Danis, and I’ve been coming here for three weeks.”

During the round of introductions, Gale is able to put a name to a few people he saw on the ward. The woman is Mayrina, and another familiar-looking man is Oliver. Oliver is another newcomer, the same as Gale.

The pale elf is last to introduce himself. “My name is Astarion, and it’s my second week.”

Halsin looks pleased, and then leads the group through some sharing exercises. From what the others are sharing, it sounds like everyone in the group has some kind of trauma from their past relationships.

Strangely, it makes Gale happy to hear what happened to others in the group. A lot of what the others are saying resonates with him, though he still has doubts about whether what happened between him and Mystra would constitute actual trauma. He doesn’t share much about himself, resolving to save it for the next time when he has a better idea of how the group works. Gale notes that Astarion, the beautiful elf, doesn’t share much either.

By the end, Gale’s been so engaged in what others have been saying that his notebook goes entirely untouched.

Halsin leads the group in a quick round of affirmations to end the session, then stands up. “Thank you for joining, everyone. We have another group on Monday, so I will see you all then at the latest.”

After the group has let out, Gale pulls out his phone. Morena has sent him a message that she’s running late, so she’s arranged for Shadowheart to pick him up and drop him off at home instead.

He finds Shadowheart in the parking lot easily. Her purple sports car stands out a mile away amidst a sea of black station wagons and SUVs. He gets in, knees creaking.

“Hi, Shadowheart. Thanks for coming. You didn’t need to, though. I could have waited for Morena.”

“Shush, Gale. Your mum’s not running late. I came because I wanted to see you.”

Gale’s voice drops in surprise “Oh. Thank you.”

Shadowheart pulls out of the parking lot toward Morena’s house. “Of course! How are you holding up?”

Gale’s “I’m fine” is reflexive, out before he can even think.

Shadowheart replies just as quickly, like she’d been expecting his response. “Don’t bullshit me. You just got out of the hospital, you’re not fine.”

Gale sighs deeply. “You’re right. I’m not. I’m exhausted, I’ve gone back to living with my mother at age 34, the medication cocktail I’m on is causing brain fog so thick I can barely think, my hair is one big tangle and I don’t know how any of this is going to get better.”

Shadowheart thinks for a moment, then responds. “That’s more like what I expected. Let’s take it one problem at a time. One of the things on your list is more fixable than the others, so I think we should start with that.”

“The hair?”

“Yep. Let’s get you home, then I’ll help you detangle it. I’ve had long hair all my life, I know a thing or two about tangles.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

An hour later, Gale is sitting in front of the couch watching The Real Housewives of Calimshan with a head full of conditioner. Shadowheart is behind him on the couch with a detangling brush and a towel on her lap, gently working the mats out of his hair section by section.

Shadowheart is following the episode animatedly, commenting on every plot twist. “I can’t believe Viv’s trying to pit Sierra and Nana against each other – and I’m even more surprised that they’re falling for it!”

Gale sighs. “I don’t understand why these women are fighting one another. Don’t they have enough on their plates already?”

“Clearly not. Can you start the next episode? I’m about halfway done, so hopefully by the end I’ll have your hair ready to rinse out.”

“Thanks again. I know it’s an inconvenience.”

“It’s not, Gale. I’m just happy to be spending time with you and happy that I can do this to help you. Besides, you have lovely hair. It’d be a shame to see you have to cut it.”

“Do you really like it? Myst… I was always told it was too scraggly, not befitting of a man in his thirties.”

“I think it’s lovely on you. Now, let me start on the next section.”

Chapter Text

He could get lost in those green eyes. The way they crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the wit that lies beneath them, the –

Gale is pulled from his daydream by a strong hand on his shoulder. He startles, mortified to realize he’s been staring across the room. Directly at Astarion.

Halsin clears his throat. “Gale? Would you like to introduce yourself to the group?”

“Uh… Sure. My name is Gale.”

“And how long have you been coming to the group?”

“Right, yes. I’ve been coming for four weeks.”

The round of introductions moves on, Gale’s cheeks blushing bright red.

Throughout the session, he catches himself stealing glimpses of Astarion, particularly when the elf is speaking. Gale’s becoming increasingly drawn to the man, his interest deepening session by session.

Astarion seems to be avoiding his gaze, and Gale hopes he hasn’t made Astarion uncomfortable with his inadvertent staring. The last thing he wants to do is make anyone uncomfortable, especially at a group that’s become so important to him – and likely to Astarion as well.

With a sense of guilt hanging over him as the session draws to a close, Gale bends over to pick up his bag when he hears someone behind him.

“So… Daydreaming about me already?”

Gale turns to see Astarion smirking behind him. “Ah! No, Astarion, it wasn’t what it looked like. I was just caught up in my thoughts.”

Astarion drawls on, his smirk only getting wider. “I’m sure you were, darling. They must have been delicious thoughts. You were practically drooling.”

Gale only blushes harder, already spiraling.

“I’m so sorry, Astarion. This group is supposed to be a place of support, and my behavior must have made you very uncomfortable. Again, I’m so sorry. If you want me to leave, I’m sure I can talk to Halsin about joining a different group.”

Astarion shakes his head. “Darling, stop. I’m only messing with you. I wasn’t uncomfortable, I just thought it was funny.”

“Oh. So we’re okay?”

“Of course. I’ll see you on Thursday.” Astarion turns on his heel and struts out of the room.

Gale, as usual around Astarion, is left speechless.

Astarion is still a complete enigma to him.

Much like Gale, Astarion hasn’t shared too much of his past with the group. He knows Astarion’s ex was named Cazador, and that he died recently in an accident that also landed Astarion in the hospital for several months.

The elf is acerbic, bitter, and sometimes even hostile, but there’s something about him that’s captivated Gale entirely.

Which is entirely inappropriate considering where they’ve met.

But Astarion doesn’t seem bothered by it, flirting with Gale almost every session.

It’s wrong. Gale just needs to stop thinking about him. About dating in general.

Gale still rereads his texts from Mystra on most days, for crying out loud!

None of that stops his mouth from going dry when Astarion meets his gaze.

“He’s like a puppy, for gods’ sake! I don’t even like dogs!”

Wyll rolls his eyes. “Is that why you’ve talked about him after every session ever since he joined the group?”

“Shut up!” Astarion groans and buries his face into a pillow.

“Do you think someone kind could be good for you, for a change?”

“He’s too nice for me. I don’t know how to be with kind people – I’d only hurt him. Besides, his ex was a woman. I don’t even know if he likes men.”

“I didn’t say it had to be a relationship. I think it could be good for you to try to make new friends.”

“I already have friends. I have you, don’t I?”

“Yes, but I’m only one person. And you clearly get along with Gale. Why not ask if he wants to do something outside of the group?”

“What would we even do? What if he says no?”

Wyll ponders for a moment, then pulls out his phone. “He seems like the type to like board games, right? I just saw an ad for a game night next week at Baldur’s Gate Central Library.

I doubt he’d say no to you. You’re very hard to resist.”

Astarion smiles. “This is coming from the man who’s turned down every one of my advances, even though I’ve been propositioning you since the moment we met.”

Wyll smiles. “I accepted your proposition of friendship, didn’t I?

I’m glad you stopped once I met Karlach, though. I would’ve had a tough time explaining it to her in the beginning, and I’m pretty sure she could’ve folded us both into a pretzel if she wanted.”

Astarion joins him in the smile. “That’s why I stopped, darling. She still can, I’m just trying not to give her a reason.”

Wyll chuckles, glad that Astarion and Karlach get along so well.

“You have a point. I’ll ask Gale after the next session.”

Chapter Text

Gale takes a deep breath, his hands slick with sweat despite the coolness of the room. He knows he doesn’t have to speak – no-one in the group does – but something about the silence stretching before him feels like an invitation. Or maybe a challenge.

He’s about to chicken out, shame already rising in his throat. At the last moment, his eyes catch on someone across the circle. Astarion. The elf’s gaze is steady, his body language open, relaxed. No expectation, no judgment. Just… presence.

He nods to Gale, and apparently, it’s all the reassurance Gale needs.

The next thing he knows, he’s clearing his throat and speaking.

“Hello, everyone. You probably already know my name is Gale.” He pauses, slightly panicked, wishing he had never opened his mouth in the first place. But alas, it’s too late to stop now.  “What I haven’t told you is what brought me to this group.”

The room is all but silent, a pregnant pause stretching on as Gale gathers himself to go on.

“I’m here because my ex-girlfriend, Mystra, convinced me to kill myself a few months ago.” He hears someone inhale sharply across the room. “I obviously failed.”

Glancing around the room, he sees a lot of shocked expressions. Many people look away as Gale meets their gazes, clearly uncomfortable with what he’s shared. But not Astarion. His expression hasn’t changed – still that calm intensity – and when their eyes meet, he gives a small, firm nod. A silent signal to keep going.

Gale does.

“It’s taken me this long to start understanding that maybe what she did was wrong… largely thanks to the stories I’ve heard from many of you. It was abuse when your partners did it to you, so why wouldn’t it be when it happened to me?”

His voice falters, and he looks down at his hands. “Some part of me still thinks it’s different. That I deserved it. That I’m… not worth as much as the rest of you. Or that she was only doing it out of love. But maybe that’s not true after all.” He exhales shakily. “Thank you all for listening.”

Halsin gives him a warm, encouraging nod. “Thank you for sharing, Gale. I’m glad the group is proving useful, and that it’s helping you see what happened to you for what it was. Abuse is abuse, no matter what form it takes.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the room. A few people offer sympathetic smiles, others just nod, clearly processing. Then Halsin gently steers the conversation forward. “Who’d like to go next?”

After the session, Gale lingers behind, digging in his bag for his water bottle. His fingers are still trembling, but it’s a different kind of adrenaline now: it feels cathartic, like a burden’s been released from his shoulders.

“Sorry to hear about your ex, darling. She sounds like a real piece of work.”

Gale looks up and finds Astarion standing in front of him, idly looping the strap of his bag around his fingers.

“Thank you,” Gale says, a little awkward. “It’s been hard to come to terms with.”

Astarion smiles, not the smirking one Gale’s seen during group, but a gentler one. “For the record, you didn’t deserve any of it. From what I’ve seen, you’re great.”

Gale snorts softly, though his cheeks heat at the compliment. “Thank you for saying that. You probably don’t know me well enough to make that determination, but the sentiment is appreciated nonetheless.”

Astarion’s eyes glint with something close to amusement. “Well… what if we fixed that? Me not knowing you well enough.”

Gale nearly chokes on his water. He sputters, coughing and red-faced.

Astarion blinks, then his eyes go wide. “I meant – just to hang out! As acquaintances! Gods, not – well – look, there’s a board game night at the central library next week, and I don’t have anyone to go with.” He clears his throat. “Would you be interested in joining me?”

Gale takes a second to recover. His heart is pounding, and for once it’s not with panic or grief. He considers the offer, then nods, smiling faintly. “I’d be happy to. Should we exchange numbers, then?”

They swap phones and tap in their contact details, and then they’re walking together toward the front doors. The early evening air is crisp and golden. Outside, they pause for a moment, uncertain.

“This is me,” Astarion says, nodding toward an Uber that’s just pulled up.

Gale gestures toward a sleek, purple sports car on the far side of the pickup area. “That’s me over there.”

“See you next week?” Astarion asks, tilting his head.

“Definitely,” Gale says. And he means it.

As they part ways, Astarion slides into the Uber, his stomach fluttering despite himself. He glances back once at Gale. As much as it pains him to admit it, Wyll may have been right.

Chapter Text

Gale fusses with his hair in the mirror, his phone pressed between his shoulder and ear, frustration mounting.

“Shadowheart, please! It’s not like that. We’re just friends. Acquaintances, even.”

Her voice comes dry and bemused through the speaker. “Clearly. So why do you need me to come over and style your hair?”

“Can you just do it? And help me pick out what to wear? I’ve never been to a board game evening in Baldur’s Gate before. The last one I went to was in college. In Waterdeep.”

Shadowheart cocks an eyebrow, though Gale can’t see it – he can hear the amused smile in her voice anyway.

“Of course I can. I’ll leave work a little early tomorrow so you won’t be late. But you’ll tell me everything afterward.”

“Thank you. But there won’t be anything to tell,” Gale insists, almost defensively. “It’s just board games.”

Across the city, Astarion balances his phone on one shoulder, half-buried in his closet, as he pulls out garment after garment.

“Wyll! Please, take this seriously. Do I wear a dress shirt or a t-shirt? Which jeans? Which shoes? I need help!”

Wyll’s voice is laced with laughter as it floats through the speaker. “Aren’t you just playing board games with a friend? Why does it matter what you wear?”

Astarion sighs dramatically. “Just help me, will you?”

“Fine, fine,” Wyll relents. “Turn on your video so I can take a look.”

Astarion switches to video, holding his phone up to show the outfit options neatly spread across his bed.

“It’s at the library,” Wyll notes. “Definitely a t-shirt.”

Before Astarion can respond, Karlach suddenly appears in the video next to Wyll, eyes bright.

“Ooh, does Astarion have a date?”

“It’s not a date!” Astarion protests. “We’re just friends going to a board game night!”

“Your blushed cheeks are telling a different story,” she teases.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Karlach says with a grin. “Are those the options? Easy. Go with the burgundy V-neck and black jeans. Black Converse for shoes.”

“See, Wyll?” Astarion smirks. “Some of us have fashion sense. If it had just been you, we’d still be here tomorrow.”

Wyll rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss Karlach’s cheek. “Then I guess we’re all lucky she showed up. Anything else, or is the fashion emergency officially over?”

“Not for me,” Astarion replies snarkily. “But you could definitely use some tips.”

Wyll chuckles. “Alright, we’re done here. Have a great evening, Astarion. And text me if you need anything.”

“I’m almost done with your bun,” Shadowheart says, pinning the final strands into place. “Let me just add a couple more pins to keep it secure.”

She steps back and hands Gale the mirror. He turns his head, admiring her work. The bun is neat, elegant, with twists hugging the sides of his head. A few soft strands frame his face perfectly.

“Thank you,” Gale says, genuinely pleased. “Are you sure this outfit is alright? Jeans and a cardigan feel a bit too casual.”

“It’s a library, Gale,” she replies, amused. “You’ll fit right in. We should leave in about five minutes, so finish packing up.”

He doesn’t have much to pack – Gale just double-checks his wallet and water bottle, then peeks to make sure his library card is still tucked safely inside.

Gale’s stomach lurches the moment Shadowheart’s car pulls up outside the library.

“I’ll be at dinner with Nocturne in the Upper City until around 8:30,” Shadowheart says. “I’ll come back for you after. Call me if you need anything. I’ll only be fifteen minutes away.”

Gale hesitates; hands clenched. “What if he doesn’t come? What if I’m alone?”

“You checked with him this afternoon, didn’t you?”

He nods.

“Then trust him,” she says simply. “He said he’d be there.”

“Right. Yes. I suppose I have no reason not to.”

Shadowheart squeezes his hand. “Call me if anything happens, alright? I promise I’ll come.”

“I will,” he says quietly. “I should go inside. I don’t want to be late.”

She watches him disappear into the building. Once he’s out of view, she lets out a wistful sigh. It’s good to see Gale like this – nervous, yes, but hopeful. Making friends again.

Astarion takes a breath before stepping out of the Uber. Baldur’s Gate Central Library looms ahead, familiar but unfamiliar all the same. He’s only been here a few times – with Wyll. Never alone.

Cazador had hated libraries. Called them “places for trash who couldn’t afford their own books.”

Astarion steps toward the doors, nerves threatening to win. He’s already pulling out his phone to call another Uber when the door opens.

Gale stands there, smiling. “Astarion! You made it!”

That smile, and the soft elegance of his hair – clearly not his own handiwork – make Astarion’s stomach flutter. He pushes the feeling down and returns the smile.

“Gale! Nice to see you.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Gale says as he leads the way, “but I went ahead and got us a table. Picked out a few options.”

The table is piled high with board games. Gale has to clear space so they can even see each other.

“In hindsight,” he admits, sheepish, “I may have been a little overenthusiastic.”

Astarion laughs, tension melting. “Yes, darling. Just a bit.”

They settle on Wyrmspan, a dragon-themed engine builder. Astarion helps Gale return the other games to the shelves, and they get started.

Conversation flows easily – Gale talks about his life with Tara and his mother, while Astarion opens up about his new apartment in the Dock Ward and the slow unravelling of Cazador’s estate. Gale wins by a narrow two-point margin, and they follow up with a quick round of Azul, which Astarion takes by a hair.

He’s just returned Azul to the shelf when a familiar voice slices through the air.

“Astarion? Is that you?”

The rasping voice turns his blood cold. Godey.

He turns slowly. The withered man behind him looks like a walking corpse. His hand lands possessively on Astarion’s back.

“I saw you through the window. Had to see if it was really you. I never thought I’d find you here. I thought Cazador taught you better.”

Panic wells up fast. Astarion’s pills are in his pocket, but he can’t take them with Godey watching. He reaches out with his mind, hoping Gale can sense the alarm.

“Godey.” His voice is flat. “I didn’t expect to see you again – especially after my testimony sent you to prison.”

Godey chuckles, breath rattling. “You think that stuck? My lawyer got the rape charges overturned. Assault’s on appeal. I’m free, boy.”

Astarion’s gut twists. That must have been what the unopened letters from the police were about.

Gale, catching a glimpse of the interaction from across the room, notices Astarion’s rigid stance and the man’s hand on him. His expression darkens.

Gale is by his side in moments. “Should we get going, Astarion? It’s getting late.”

Godey turns to him, sneering. “Ooh, has Cazador’s little slut found himself a new master? Hope he keeps a tighter leash.”

Gale raises his voice, loud enough to draw attention. “You need to leave. Right now. Your presence is unwelcome, and Astarion clearly doesn’t want to see you.”

Godey backs away, but not before giving Astarion a subtle jab in the ribs. “Until next time. Always a pleasure.”

The library door clicks shut behind him.

Astarion bolts for the bathroom.

He doesn’t have time to lock the door behind him before he’s hunched over the toilet, hyperventilating and trying not to puke. He can still feel Godey’s hand on his back, running over the scars that he and Cazador had put there.

Astarion reaches for his pill bottle, but his hands are shaking too much to open it. Just as the dizziness threatens to overwhelm him, he hears a knock on the door.

A moment later, the door opens, and Gale peeks in. He sees the pill bottle in Astarion’s trembling hands and puts two and two together. Without a word, Gale takes the bottle, unscrews it with calm efficiency, and pulls out a single pill.

“How many do you need? One?”

Astarion nods.

Gale hands it to him with a water bottle. Somehow, Astarion gets the pill down.

“Would it help to breathe with me?” Gale asks softly.

Another nod.

Astarion nods again, and Gale starts talking him through a series of slow, deep breaths. It helps to have someone else think for him, and before long, Astarion is breathing more normally.

“More water?”

“Yes, please.”

He takes another sip. The panic is fading when the bathroom door bursts open.

A woman with a platinum ponytail rushes in looking terrified. “Gale! I tried to text you – someone said there was an emergency –”

She spots Astarion, pale and shaken, in the corner. Understanding flickers in her eyes.

“It wasn’t your emergency, was it?”

“No, Shadowheart,” Gale says gently. “It wasn’t.”

Shadowheart turns to Astarion. “You must be Astarion. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gale adds quickly. “Could you wait outside for a moment?”

She nods and closes the door behind her.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry if Shadowheart freaked you out,” Gale says gently. “She’s the one who found me when I… She’s become a bit overprotective as a result.”

“I’m alright, I think.”
Astarion tries to sit up, but the room tilts, and he sinks back down with a quiet huff.
“Maybe not quite well enough to get up yet. You can go if you need to, though. I don’t expect you to stick around for all of my… drama.”

“This isn’t drama, Astarion. This is your health.” Gale’s voice is firm, but still soft around the edges. “I’ll stay until I know you’re okay. I can’t just leave you here, not like this.”

Astarion blinks at him, visibly moved, then offers a weak smile. “Can you tell me more about your mother’s house? A distraction might help.”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

Gale talks, and Astarion listens. He describes the garden first – lush, wild, and fragrant in spring, always full of buzzing bees and chirping birds. Then the house itself: his bedroom with walls still lined with childhood posters and faded glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. The guest room, once his playroom, now smells like cedar and lavender. The study is his favorite – full of overstuffed bookshelves and a sun-warmed armchair by the window, perfect for reading.

There’s a quiet rhythm to his voice, like a lullaby spun from memory. Astarion closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him, building a little world in his mind. For a few minutes, he’s not on the library floor. He’s curled up in a sunbeam, safe and warm and wanted.

By the time Gale’s describing his old curtains, patterned with pictures of Dribbles the Clown, Astarion’s feeling steady again – but he doesn’t say so. He doesn’t want the moment to end.

Eventually, the yawns give him away.

“Are you feeling better, by any chance?” Gale asks, amused.

“You caught me,” Astarion admits, lips tugging into a sheepish grin. “I’ve been feeling better since you talked about the garden. Your voice is just so lovely. I wanted to keep listening.”

Gale blushes lightly but doesn’t look away. “Thank you. I’ll talk to you anytime you want. Unfortunately, I think the library’s closing soon – if it hasn’t already. Do you want to try standing up? I can help.”

Astarion nods. Gale offers his hands, and Astarion takes them, letting himself be pulled gently to his feet. Gale doesn’t let go right away – he waits, watching Astarion’s face for any sign of distress. His grip is steady, his eyes full of quiet concern.

Astarion feels a little dizzy, but not from panic this time. Gale’s hands are warm in his, and his gaze feels like a spotlight. It sends butterflies fluttering in Astarion’s stomach, this time not entirely unwelcome.

What he doesn’t know is that Gale feels it too.

Gale’s heart is pounding. He’s closer to Astarion than he ever dared hope to be, and it takes everything in him to stay focused on care, not feeling. But it’s hard – so hard – when Astarion is so captivating. Not just beautiful. Witty. Funny. Kind.

Once he’s certain Astarion won’t fall, Gale lets go to gather their things.

“Ready to go?”

Astarion gestures grandly toward the exit. “After you, darling.”

They step out into the dimly lit library. Most of the lights are off now. Only a few staff members linger, and Shadowheart’s curled up in a nearby armchair with a magazine, which she puts back on the rack when she sees them.

“There you are. Everyone all right?”

“We’re fine,” Astarion answers before Gale can. “Thanks for waiting. I’ll just call an Uber, but I’ll see you at the group next week, Gale.”

“Not on my watch.” Shadowheart straightens, keys already in hand. “After the night you’ve clearly had, I’m driving you home.”

She pauses, then adds with more care, “Unless that makes you uncomfortable, of course.”

“Thank you, darling. That’s very kind. I wouldn’t say no to a ride, but be warned, I live in the Dock Ward. Might be a bit of a loop.”

“That’s no problem. We’ll drop you off first.”

They walk together to Shadowheart’s car. Gale opens the back door for Astarion and slides in beside him once he’s settled.

After giving his address to Shadowheart, Astarion breaks the silence. “So… how did the two of you meet?”

“Oh! High school,” Gale replies. “We were both in the theater club. It was love at first sight, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

Astarion’s heart skips a beat at the word love. “Love at first sight, eh?”

Shadowheart chuckles, already anticipating the confusion. “Oh no, not like that! I’m very, very gay. And Gale was dating someone else back then. A massive half-orc on the football team.”

“His name was Ty’ron,” Gale adds with a dry laugh. “Broke up with me right before prom. Found a girl to go with instead. Didn’t want anyone knowing he liked boys.”

The story should be sad, but Astarion’s chest feels light. Hopeful.

Gale and Shadowheart aren’t together.
Gale’s not straight.
He might have a chance.

They pull up in front of Astarion’s apartment building, and Gale insists on walking him to the door.

“This is me,” Astarion says, stopping just outside. “Thanks for coming to board game night. And… sorry for how the night turned out. I’m sure it wasn’t what you expected.”

“Oh, hush,” Gale says with a gentle smile. “You’re my friend. It was no trouble at all. Will you be okay here on your own?”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Keep in touch, Astarion. I’ll see you at the group next week, but… I hope you’ll text me before then. If you ever want to talk. About anything.”

“Likewise, Gale.”

They stand in the doorway a moment longer than necessary. Neither is quite ready to say goodbye.

But eventually, Gale steps back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Astarion echoes, softer than before.

He watches Gale walk back to the car, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel entirely alone.

Chapter Text

Astarion slumps into his usual seat at group, gripping his pint-sized thermos of coffee like a lifeline. He takes a sip, willing himself to stay awake. He'd tried smoothing out the bags under his eyes before he left the house, but there's no hiding the fact that he hasn’t slept for the better part of a week.
Not since he saw Godey.

He filed for a restraining order as soon as Shadowheart and Gale dropped him off at home, but it hasn’t helped him sleep. A piece of paper isn’t going to stop Godey if he decides to hurt him, especially not when the law never seemed to stop Godey before.

Astarion mentioned the encounter to Wyll, who insisted on involving the elder Ravengard. Ulder, managing partner of Ravengard, Vannath and Vanthampur, took over quickly, setting Astarion up with a lawyer for the upcoming appeals process.
Amrik Vanthampur, the lawyer, seemed personable enough, though he pointed out more than once how much damage Astarion did to his case by waiting until Godey was already free to act.

Astarion doesn’t see how it matters—Godey would have been released regardless—but he tries to help Amrik however he can.

None of it solves the real problem: Astarion is terrified to sleep.

All the nightmares and anxiety that had started to ease after Cazador’s death are now back with full force. Every step forward feels like it’s crumbling beneath him.

A few minutes later, Gale walks into the room and drops into the seat beside him.

"Good afternoon, Astarion! How have you been?" Gale asks, voice cheerful.

"Hello, darling. I'm doing fine," Astarion replies, forcing a smile.

Gale raises an eyebrow sceptically. "Are you sure? You look a little fatigued."

"I'm fine, darling. Just had a bad night of sleep, that's all," Astarion says, taking another sip of coffee.

"If you say so. I hope you rest better tonight," Gale says gently.

Astarion nods wordlessly and clutches his coffee a little tighter.

That night, it’s the same story as before.

Astarion tries to sleep, but no matter what he does, he only manages to drift off for a moment before the nightmares come back.

Endless nights at Cazador’s mansion loop through his mind—torture, humiliation, violence, all relived in vivid detail.
His medication is useless.
All he can do is survive until morning.

A few days later, he’s back at group, jumbo-sized thermos in hand.

Gale walks over and takes the seat beside him.
"Good to see you, Astarion. Though I must say, you look even more exhausted than before. Still not sleeping?" Gale asks, frowning.

Astarion nods, feeling too drained to speak.

"Is this… because of your encounter at the library?" Gale ventures.

Astarion nods again.

"I don’t know who he is," Gale says gently, "but I imagine he’s someone from your past. Someone you fear?"

Another nod.

"Is that why you can't sleep?"

Astarion nods once more.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Gale asks, his voice soft.

Astarion shakes his head, then forces himself to answer.
"Aside from putting him back in prison and making sure he stays there... no. I already have a restraining order and a security system. None of it helps me sleep."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Gale says quietly.

The session passes mostly uneventfully, though Astarion’s yawns grow progressively louder.

As the group breaks up and Astarion rises to leave, Gale touches his shoulder.

"Astarion," Gale says, "I was thinking... if you want, you could stay with me and my mother. It might help you sleep, being around other people. We have a fully furnished guest room just gathering dust. I’m sure my mother would love to have you."

Ordinarily, Astarion would refuse on instinct. He despises feeling like a burden—or worse, being indebted to anyone.

But right now, he’s just too tired to argue.

And honestly?
The idea sounds... wonderful.

"That... sounds nice," Astarion says softly.

Gale’s face lights up. "Really? She's just out at the car park. Come on!"

Gale hovers around him all the way to the silver SUV parked out front.
The driver, a grey-haired woman with warm brown eyes, smiles as the two approach.

"Hello, sweetie," she says. "Who's your friend?"

"Hi Mum. This is Astarion, my friend from group," Gale says proudly.

"Oh, Astarion! I’ve heard all about you!" she says warmly.

Gale leans in through the open window. "Astarion’s been having trouble sleeping at home. Could he come stay with us for a bit?"

She answers without hesitation.
"Of course he can. That’s what the guest room’s for."

Astarion is stunned.
She knows almost nothing about him. Yet she welcomes him without a second thought.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Dekarios," Astarion says, struggling to keep the emotion from his voice.

"Please, call me Morena, dear," she says, smiling.

Astarion manages a small smile back. "Morena, then."

Once they’re settled in the car, Morena glances at him in the mirror.
"Shall we pick up your things, Astarion? You look like you could use a good night's sleep."

"That would be lovely, Morena," Astarion says.

At his apartment, Astarion packs quickly—just a few essentials and his laptop tossed into a worn duffel bag.

Morena’s home is everything Gale promised.

The garden is lush, overflowing with life. The house inside is even better—warm, bright, clearly cared for with deep love and attention.

Gale gives him a quick tour, but Astarion barely registers any of it.

"And the guest room’s just down the corridor and to the left," Gale says. "The bed’s made. I’ll bring you some towels in a moment."

The guest room is cozy, almost cottage-like. The bed looks too good to be true.

Astarion sits down on it, intending to wait for Gale to return.

By the time Gale walks in carrying the towels, Astarion is fast asleep on top of the covers.

Smiling to himself, Gale sets the towels gently on the dresser.
He tiptoes over and closes the blinds to dim the afternoon light.

For a moment, Gale debates finding a blanket to tuck around him, but thinks better of it.

He backs out of the room and closes the door softly behind him, leaving Astarion to sleep at last.

Chapter Text

The first few nights at Gale and Morena’s go without incident. Astarion is finally well-rested, and Cazador no longer haunts his dreams. He sleeps for 16 hours that first night, finally waking to the smell of fresh scones from the kitchen.

On his way there, he runs into Tara. She takes an immediate liking to him, circling around his legs and hopping onto his lap at breakfast.

They have scones with homemade cherry jam and Lapsang Souchong. As it turns out, on top of being a top-notch gardener and baker, Morena is a tea purist in her own right.

Meeting Morena explains a lot about Gale.
Both are just as generous and kind, and have assured Astarion he’s welcome for as long as he likes.

Astarion can’t turn down the thought of a few more nights of good sleep, but he’s starting to run out of things to wear.

Not wanting to inconvenience Morena further, he tells Gale he’s heading home and calls an Uber back to his apartment.

A stack of mail has been collecting on his doorstep, which is to be expected when you’re dealing with the justice system. He sifts through the pile quickly, sorting them into letters to take back to Gale and Morena’s and letters to leave for later.

Easy enough—until the last envelope makes his blood run cold.
It’s entirely unmarked. No address, no sender, no stamp.

Astarion knows instantly who it’s from.
He opens it with shaking hands and shakes the contents out on the dining room table.

Two newspaper clippings fall out:

Local Philanthropist Godey Carras Has Conviction Overturned

Godey Carras, a well-known philanthropist and business owner, has had his recent conviction for rape and assault overturned on appeal, sparking outrage among advocacy groups. Carras, who was originally sentenced last year, maintained his innocence throughout the trial, with his legal team arguing procedural errors led to an unfair verdict.

Supporters celebrate the ruling as justice served, while critics see it as a failure of the system, pointing to the multiple allegations against him.

Millionaire Cazador Szarr Dead in Tragic Car Accident

Wealthy investor and socialite Cazador Szarr was pronounced dead last night following a devastating car crash involving a semi truck. According to authorities, Szarr’s vehicle collided with the truck in what officials are currently treating as a tragic accident.

An unidentified passenger in Szarr’s car was rushed to the hospital in critical condition and remains under intensive care. Investigators are working to determine the cause of the crash, including whether speed, road conditions, or mechanical failure played a role.

Friends and associates of Szarr have expressed their grief and disbelief, remembering him as a generous and prominent figure in the city’s financial and social circles.

A large red question mark is drawn at the bottom of the clipping.

Astarion drops the envelope and slumps to the ground.
It’s not safe to be here.
Godey knows where he lives.
Godey knows what he did.

Panic is a funny thing. On the one hand, Astarion wants nothing more than to run. On the other, his body refuses to move from the floor. Several doses of pills have done nothing to ease his terror. He can’t stop replaying the memories from the night of Cazador’s death—or the years of abuse that led up to it.

Suddenly, a knock sounds on the apartment door.
Godey’s come for him.

A new wave of terror washes over him, but this time it’s the push he needs. He pulls himself up, grabs a knife from the kitchen, and heads to the door.

He’s standing behind it, hand on the lock, when another knock comes.

Then a muffled voice:
“Astarion? Are you there? You’ve been gone a while, and you’re not answering my texts, so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

The voice is unmistakable.
Gale.

Astarion hides the knife behind his back as he opens the door.

Gale looks sweaty and exhausted, but lets out a sigh of relief when he sees him.

“Are you alright?” he asks. “I’m sorry to intrude, but like I said, I was worried.”

“Not at all, darling,” Astarion replies. “I got a bit distracted while packing. It’s good you’re here to keep me on task.”

He steps aside, letting Gale into the apartment. He discreetly sets the knife down on the kitchen counter, eager to clear up the newspaper clippings before Gale sees them.

He manages just in time, slipping them into the pile of envelopes he plans to bring with him. Then he grabs another duffle bag, filling it with enough clothes and essentials to last at least a week. He adds a few books, his softest blanket, and a sorely missed bottle of perfume he forgot to bring last time.

“We have plenty of blankets, you know,” Gale says, watching. “If you need another, you need only ask.”

“I know you do,” Astarion replies. “But this one is special.”

“Maybe you could tell me the story one day?”

“Maybe.”

A few more miscellaneous items collected, Astarion zips up the duffel and heads to the living room. Gale is examining his book collection—one of the only things Astarion bothered bringing from the mansion.

He tells him as much.

“I’m about ready to go if you are,” Astarion says. “How did you get here?”

“I, uh… ran,” Gale says.

“You ran? From Morena’s house? That’s five miles away!”

“Mum was out, and I couldn’t wait in case you were in danger.”

“That’s what Uber is for, you ridiculous man!”

Gale’s shoulders slump. “You’re right. That was stupid of me. I won’t do it again.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Astarion says quickly. “It’s sweet. I’m touched you literally ran to save me. My knight in shining armor.”

Gale lets out a breath. “You didn’t look like you needed saving, but I’m glad you think so.”

Astarion takes a breath and turns to face him. “I did need saving, Gale. I didn’t respond to your messages because I was sitting on the floor having a panic attack. You saved me. Again.”

This only worsens the spiral in Gale’s mind. “I’m so sorry, Astarion. I didn’t even notice, let alone help you!”

Astarion shakes his head. “I didn’t want you to notice. You helped bring me out of it. You did the right thing.”

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Gale asks gently.

“No,” Astarion says. “What I want is to get out of here. I’ll call us an Uber, this time.”

Chapter Text

The next night, Gale sleeps poorly. He tosses and turns, wracked with guilt over not being able to help Astarion. He hadn’t even realized Astarion was panicking. What else has he missed?

Eventually, a sharp yelp from the next room snaps him awake.

Gale stops to listen.

Astarion’s voice is muffled through the wall, but the words are unmistakable. “Please, stop! Don’t hurt me! Someone help me!”

Gale is up in an instant, rushing to the guest room. He bursts in – only to find Astarion alone. He’s flailing in the bed, eyes squeezed shut.

A nightmare, then. Gale is all too familiar with those.

He approaches the bed cautiously.

“Astarion,” he says softly, “you’re having a nightmare. Please wake up.”

But Astarion continues to thrash, horrified, pleading for mercy from whatever phantom torments him in his sleep. Gale can’t imagine what kind of dream could evoke such fear.

He tries again. “Astarion. It’s Gale. You’re safe. You’re dreaming.”

Still no response. So Gale places a light hand on Astarion’s shoulder.

That does it. Astarion jolts awake, slapping Gale’s hand away with surprising force.

The look in his eyes is venomous. “Don’t touch me, you monster!”

Gale takes a step back, stunned. “I’m sorry – I was only trying to help!”

“I don’t care!” Astarion shouts. “Get out!”

Gale doesn’t argue. He retreats to his room, tears blurring his vision. It feels like he can’t do anything right, especially when it comes to Astarion. He must hate him by now. Gale’s fucking everything up, again.

A short while later, a gentle knock pulls him from his spiral.

“Gale?” Astarion’s voice. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Sniffling, Gale wipes his eyes on the back of his sleeve. “Um... if you want to.”

The door opens. Astarion steps in, smoothing down his silk pajamas, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For how I acted a moment ago. It was uncalled for.”

Gale blinks at him. “You thought I was… him.”

“I did. Just for a moment.” Astarion exhales, slow and shaky. “Once you left, I realized where I was—and that you were only trying to help. I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with you.”

“So… you don’t hate me?”

“Gods, no.” Astarion’s lips twitch into the faintest smile. “You’re practically a saint for putting up with me. Like I said—you’re my knight in shining armor.”

Gale gestures toward the bed. “Would you like to sit down? I can give you my blanket if you’re cold.”

“I’ll sit,” Astarion says, walking over. “But we’re sharing the blanket. I can’t have you freezing to death trying to keep me warm.”

He settles next to Gale, pressing close as they tuck the blanket around them both. The contact is electric—Gale’s mind promptly short-circuits.

Astarion doesn’t miss the opportunity to lean into it.

“Can you give me a hug?”

Gale nods, wrapping his arms around Astarion and holding him close to his chest.

“Is this alright?” he asks.

“More than alright. Thank you.”

They sit in silence for a moment before Astarion speaks again. “You know, I never did tell you what happened with me and Cazador.”

“You don’t have to,” Gale says quickly. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Astarion replies. “I just don’t know where to start.”

He takes a breath. “I met him when I was eighteen. I’d just been kicked out by my parents. They were religious, I came out to them – same story you’ve heard a hundred times. I was working at MageDonald’s, trying to launch a modeling career, when my agent told me I’d been booked.”

He pauses. “The gig was weird. I was supposed to pose as a portrait model for an amateur painter. The painter was Cazador. He was charming—at first. Made me feel like I was the only person in the room. And often, I was.”

Astarion shifts slightly, his voice quieter now. “It was a couple of months into dating when he hit me for the first time. A couple months after that, he raped me for the first time. A year later, he started bringing friends.”

Gale’s breath catches.

“Godey was just one of them,” Astarion continues. “But he was the cruelest. Aside from Cazador himself. They loved how sweetly I screamed for them.”

Gale’s arms tighten around him. “Gods, Astarion. I’m so sorry.”

“I still have nightmares about Cazador and his friends.”

“Was that the one you had tonight?”

Astarion nods. “It was.”

Gale swallows hard. “Have you had them since you’ve been here?”

“Not until tonight,” Astarion says. “I found a message from Godey at my place today.”

“That’s why you were panicking earlier,” Gale realizes. “He knows where you live.”

“Yep. That’s also why I can’t go back there.”

“You don’t have to,” Gale says firmly. “You can stay here as long as you need.”

“I know. Letting me stay is a gift. I won’t forget it.”

Gale holds him gently, rubbing slow circles into his shoulder. Eventually, Astarion relaxes completely, letting out a soft sigh and wrapping his arms around Gale in return.

Gale’s heart hammers in his chest, but he forces himself to stay calm.

As Astarion starts to doze off, Gale slowly eases him down onto the bed and tucks the blanket around him. He hesitates, considering lying down beside him.

Instead, he picks up his phone and quietly heads for the couch.

Chapter Text

After a few hours of fitful sleep, Gale’s ringtone blares. He answers on reflex, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“ Dekarios.”

“Gale, honey! How are you faring after your accident?”

Even in his exhausted state, he recognizes the voice instantly. A cold flush sweeps down his spine, goosebumps rising in its wake.

“ Mystra.”

“I’ve missed you, sweetie! I tried stopping by your place, but no one was home.”

“I’ve… uh… not been home. I’ve been staying with my mother since I got out of the hospital.”

“Of course. I’m sure Morena’s been taking good care of you. Could we meet somewhere to talk? I’ll come to pick you up. It’s important.”

“I'm not sure that’s a good idea, Mystra.”

“Please! I need to talk to you. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

Gale hesitates. “I suppose.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

Before he can reconsider, she ends the call.

He already knows agreeing was probably a mistake. But maybe what she has to say actually matters. And after all the time they spent together, he feels like he owes her that much.

It’s still too early for Astarion or Morena to be awake, so Gale moves through his morning in silence. He brews coffee, picks at a slice of bread with cherry jam, and gets dressed. Most of his clothes are in his room, but he finds a pile of clean laundry he never put away and throws something on from that.

About ten minutes before Mystra’s set to arrive, he scribbles a note and leaves it on the kitchen counter:

Good morning!
I’m going out for a long walk. I’ll be gone for a few hours.
Text me if you need anything.
Gale (written at 6:40)

It’s not strictly the truth, but there’s no way he wants to explain to his mother or Astarion where he’s going, or who he’s meeting. He heads outside to wait.

A few minutes later, Mystra pulls up in her top-of-the-line Range Rover. Gale hesitates for a second, then climbs in and shuts the door.

Mystra is all smiles, like nothing ever happened. “Good morning, honeybun. Hope I didn’t wake you with my call.”

“You did, actually.”

“Well, you used to be such a morning person. I thought you still were.”

“It’s fine.”

“Buckle up. I’ll drive us to a coffee shop. You should at least get some caffeine since I woke you up.”

Her tone doesn’t leave much room for argument. He buckles his seatbelt, and she pulls away from the curb toward the city center.

She takes them to The Enchanted Bean , a place they used to frequent when they were together. At least the coffee will be good, Gale thinks. And being in public isn’t the worst idea.

Inside, Mystra gestures for him to take their regular spot by the window. He does, while she heads to the counter to order.

“I got you your usual,” she says, returning to the table. “They’ll bring it out in a minute.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

They sit in silence until the drinks arrive. Gale is in no hurry to start the conversation. With Mystra, he’s learned it’s often safer to wait.

The barista brings their drinks: his London Fog with oat milk, still smelling as comforting as he remembers, and her usual flat white.

After a sip, Mystra finally speaks. “Gale - I asked you here because I need help. My mother is in the hospital. She has cancer.” Her voice cracks, and tears fill her eyes as she begins to sob softly.

Gale sits up straighter, startled. “Mystra… I’m so sorry. I had no idea Marian was ill.”

He’d always liked Marian. They’d bonded over food and literature. Their only disagreements had been about Mystra. Marian had always taken her daughter’s side.

“She only started showing symptoms a few weeks ago,” Mystra says between sniffles. “It’s a fast-progressing leukemia.”

“Oh gods. Do you know what the prognosis is?”

“Not yet. They’re still running tests, but the doctors say it’s serious.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“She’s been asking for you.” Mystra wipes her eyes. “I never told her that we… weren’t together anymore. And I can’t - not now. The last thing she needs is more stress.”

He sighs. “Mystra… Why would you do that?”

“I suppose… I hoped we could go back to the way things were. Before your accident.”

He stares at her, stunned. After everything she said to him in the hospital, she still wishes they could be together?

“You know we can’t,” he says quietly.

“Will you at least come see her? You always got along so well.”

He hesitates.

“Wouldn’t you regret it,” she adds, “if she died and you never got a chance to say goodbye?”

He can’t argue with that.

“Fine. Which hospital?”

“Open Hands. Visiting hours start in an hour, if you can wait.”

“No problem.”

They settle in to wait, flipping through a few newspapers in the meantime.

The hospital corridors are too familiar to Gale by now. He easily finds Marian’s ward. They arrive a little early, so he buys a cookie from the hospital’s best coffee shop while they wait.

When visiting hours begin, Gale and Mystra step into Marian’s room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hangs in the air, mingling with the quiet beeping of monitors. Marian looks pale, but her smile is warm when she sees them.

“Oh, sweetheart! Gale, it’s been too long,” she says, reaching out to take his hand. Her grip is weaker than he remembers. Seeing her like this sends a pang of guilt through him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he says, forcing a small smile. “ Things have been… hectic.”

It’s not exactly a lie. His life has been chaos, just not the kind Marian imagines.

“Of course it has. You’re always working so hard,” she replies. “Mystra tells me you’ve been absolutely buried in work lately.”

Gale darts a glance at Mystra, who smiles innocently. Of course, she’d already framed the narrative. He nods, unwilling to contradict her in front of her mother.

“That sounds like him,” Mystra says sweetly, settling into the chair by the bed. “I keep telling him he needs to take better care of himself, but you know how stubborn he is.”

Marian chuckles, her voice raspier than he remembers. “That’s why you two are perfect for each other. You keep him grounded.”

Gale swallows hard, a lump forming in his throat. He doesn’t dare look at Mystra. She’s relishing this illusion that nothing has changed. But Marian is sick, and if this lie brings her comfort, he can play along - for now.

“I try,” Mystra says, brushing a nonexistent speck of dust from Gale’s sleeve, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They talk with Marian for a while, about books, recipes she wants to try when she gets better, a play she’d hoped to see before falling ill. She asks about Gale’s work, and he offers vague but pleasant answers. It’s easier than pushing back on the fiction Mystra’s crafted.

Eventually, a nurse enters to check Marian’s vitals, a silent sign that visiting time is nearly over. As they prepare to leave, Marian holds Gale’s hand again, her gaze tender.

“Take care of my daughter, won’t you?”

Gale forces himself to nod. “Of course, Marian.”

Mystra beams at him as they leave the room, but Gale feels like the air’s been sucked from his lungs.

She leads them out of the ward, her hand slipping easily into his.

They step into the elevator, neither noticing the pointed gaze of the pale elf waiting by the hospital coffee cart.

Chapter Text

Gale dissociates the whole way home from the hospital. He converses with Mystra—small talk, questions, nods at the right moments—but it’s like watching himself from outside his body. He’s drifting, untethered.

At home, he moves on autopilot. He flicks through the pages of a book he’s read a hundred times, the words blurring into nothingness. He eats lunch with his mother, who informs him, over grilled cheese and tomato soup, that Astarion is out at a private therapy session with Dr. Silverbough.

Afterward, Gale retreats to his room and tries to ground himself with breathing exercises. He inhales slowly, holds the breath, counts, and exhales. It’s impossible, like trying to catch smoke in his hands. Mystra’s voice still echoes in his mind, soft and sorrowful, a siren’s call cloaked in grief.

He hears the front door open, then footsteps. A moment later, Astarion is standing in front of him.

“So…” Astarion begins, arms crossed, voice deceptively casual. “Did you have a nice walk this morning?”

“It was nice,” Gale replies without looking up. “I walked to Rivington and back.”

“Just Rivington?”

“Mhm. Wyrm’s Crossing was as busy as always.”

A pause. Then: “In that case, would you like to explain to me why I saw you at the hospital with a woman who looked an awful lot like your ex? I saw you holding hands coming out of the oncology ward.”

Gale’s dissociation cracks like thin ice. He looks up, heart pounding. He’s been caught—and worse, Astarion looks like he might be angry. Or… is that jealousy?

“I can explain! It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Then start explaining.”

“It’s Mystra’s mother,” Gale says quickly. “She has leukemia. She’s been asking for me. I had to visit her with Mystra.”

“And this visit necessitated holding hands with the woman who told you to kill yourself?”

Gale flinches. “Mystra hadn’t told her mother we broke up. We couldn’t exactly drop that bombshell on her now. She might be dying.”

“So I take it this visit was Mystra’s idea. And pretending to still be together was her suggestion, too?”

It hits Gale then, what Astarion is getting at. “Yes,” he admits. “Those were both her ideas.”

“Do you understand how that sounds?”

Gale nods, shame blooming like a bruise. “In hindsight, I see why it’s troubling.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t balk at the sight of the witch, given your recent history.”

Gale hesitates. That’s what he thought he would do, too. But Mystra had seemed so afraid. She looked like someone in pain, not someone dangerous. It’s hard to remember the specifics now, the exact things she said, the sharp edges of her cruelty. It’s all softening in his mind, like fog rolling in. Did he misunderstand something?

“I know that look, Gale,” Astarion says, his voice low, dangerous. “Please tell me you’re not thinking what I think you are.”

“What look?”

“The ‘Could it really have been that bad?’ look. The look that’s one step away from crawling back to your abusive ex.”

“I’m not getting back together with her,” Gale says, but even to his own ears, it sounds uncertain. “But maybe we could be friends? For her mother’s sake.”

“Gale,” Astarion says, all warmth gone now, “I’ve worn that same look before. It nearly got me killed. Mystra really is that bad. Whatever kindness she’s showing you right now is manipulation. Her mother being sick doesn’t change who she is. And it doesn’t mean you owe either of them anything.”

It’s not that Gale doesn’t believe him. He does. But that seed of doubt, the one Mystra planted with her tears and trembling voice, is growing. Could it really have been that bad? They were together for over a decade—how could he have stayed so long if it was?

“She seemed… different today,” he murmurs.

Astarion scoffs. “They always seem different when they want something.”

“I just—” Gale rubs his eyes. “I don’t know. I’d regret it if her mother passed in distress. She’s innocent in all of this.”

“That’s Mystra’s responsibility. Not yours. But if you won’t listen to me, at least talk to Halsin about this at your next session.”

Gale sighs. “I suppose I can talk to Dr. Silverbough.”

Later, in session, Gale sits across from Dr. Silverbough. The room is quiet; the soft ticking of the wall clock is the only sound between them. Gale recounts the events of the hospital visit in a low voice, avoiding eye contact.

When he finishes, Halsin leans forward slightly in his chair, voice gentle but firm.

“Gale, I don’t often speak so directly to my patients, but I have to make an exception here. You need to tread very carefully around Mystra. You’re finally beginning to settle at home. I don’t want to see you end up back in the hospital.”

Gale frowns, his arms folded tight across his chest. “Surely seeing her mother a few times wouldn’t be enough to undo all this progress.”

“I’ve seen serious relapses happen with less,” Halsin replies. “Returning to old patterns, even something that seems minor, can open the door to a downward spiral. Every time you see Mystra, you’re re-exposing yourself to the source of your trauma. It can reactivate old wounds and potentially create new ones.”

He pauses, giving Gale a moment.

“Tell me honestly: how did you feel after seeing her yesterday?”

Gale lowers his gaze. His voice is barely audible. “Bad. I dissociated for a few hours. It didn’t stop until Astarion came home from his session with you.”

Halsin nods solemnly. “Yes, Astarion mentioned he’s staying with you for the time being. That support is good for you. But you can see my point now, can’t you? This isn’t just about Mystra’s mother. It’s about your stability. And the more time you spend around Mystra, the worse it’s likely to get.”

Gale nods, slowly.

After the session, he checks his phone.

Three missed calls. Four texts from Mystra.

Gale, I need to see you. Mom’s getting worse.

Please meet me at the hospital. She’s wondering where you are.

It’s serious, Gale.

Please.

He stares at the messages, thumb hovering over the screen. He’s already at the hospital. Just down the hall. It wouldn’t take much. Just a few minutes.

Surely, for a dying woman, he can do this.

Chapter Text

As he’s about to step into the elevator, Gale’s phone rings.

Astarion.

Concerned, Gale picks up.
“Astarion. What’s going on?”
“Gale. It’s an emergency.”

Gale immediately turns toward the main entrance, ready to rush back home.
“What is it?”
“There’s a limited-time drink at the boba shop on the way home from the hospital. I need you to get it for me.”
“You what?! I thought this was an actual emergency!”
“It is a boba emergency, Gale! I thought you’d understand!”
“Astarion, I was on my way to visit a dying woman. Surely your boba isn’t more important than that.”

A moment of silence follows as Gale realizes he’s said too much.
“A dying woman, you say? It wouldn’t happen to be Mystra’s mother, would it?”
“…It might be.”
“Did you ask Halsin what he thought?”
“Yes. Dr. Silverbough—Halsin—said he thought I should stay away from Mystra.”
“And yet you were on your way to visit her mother?”
“She texted. Her mother is in a bad way. I was doing it for her, not Mystra.”

There’s a pause, then Astarion speaks more softly.
“Gale, I want you to listen to me and answer honestly. Is her mother’s happiness worth your life?”

Gale doesn’t respond.

“I need you, Gale. You’ve brought so much joy and comfort into my life in a really shitty time, and I need you to keep doing that. But for that, I need you alive, and I need you healthy. I want to get better, and I want you to do it with me. I don’t think that’s going to happen with Mystra in your life.”

It’s all too much. Tears well in Gale’s eyes as he’s reminded of everything he stands to lose if he goes back to Mystra—whatever he has with Astarion, his relationship with his mother, and with Shadowheart.

But worst of all, he stands to lose himself.

As much as she’s the devil he knows, he wants to know what life can be like without her.

He needs to know.

His reply to Astarion is simple.
“You’re right. I’m coming home.”

Gale heads out of the main doors and hails a cab. He’d been planning to wait for Shadowheart to pick him up, but she won’t arrive for another hour, and he can’t bear to be in the hospital any longer. He sends her a message to let her know, then gives the driver his address.

Halfway through the ride, Gale’s phone rings.

Mystra.

“WAIT, PULL OVER!”

Panicked, the driver swerves into a parking lot.

Gale declines the call, mutes his phone, and then looks at the driver.

“I need you to go back to the boba shop on the corner of Harbor Street and Crescent Road and wait for me while I get my drink. I’ll pay you extra.”

The driver eyes him through the rearview mirror, unimpressed.

“There’s no need to yell. I thought you were having an emergency.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot. My… friend is having a boba emergency.”

The driver rolls her eyes at him. 
“I don’t know what that is, but I’ll take you.”

They arrive at the shop, plastered with posters for a limited-edition Lavender-Bergamot Cheese Boba. Gale has no idea what that means, but he orders two. The taxi is still waiting outside, and he tips the driver on the spot. She drives him the rest of the way home, and he tips her again.

“I’m sorry for yelling. I hope this makes up for it.”
“It’s alright. I’ve heard worse. You seem like a good friend, in any case.”
“Thank you.”

He heads to the front door, which opens before he reaches it.
Astarion emerges and nearly tackles him in a bear hug.
“Gale! Thank gods! You were gone for so long, I was afraid you went back.”

Gale returns the hug a little awkwardly, the bag of boba still in one hand. Having Astarion this close is overwhelming. Gale can smell the faint rosemary and bergamot of his shampoo, and he’s surprised at how cool the smaller elf feels against him. He hadn’t noticed it so clearly before, under the blanket.

He breathes in deeper, wanting to fill his lungs with the scent.

Eventually, he realizes Astarion has shifted and is looking at him quizzically.
“Absolutely not. I stopped at the boba shop for the drink you asked for. The boba emergency.”

“Ooohh, give me one!”

Gale reluctantly disengages from the hug and hands Astarion the bag with the drinks.

“I got the one they had signs for—lavender, bergamot, and cheese? I don’t know what role the cheese plays in tea, but I got one for both of us to try.”

Astarion’s joy is infectious. Gale knows the moment he sees that grin that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it there.

Astarion bounces to the kitchen, spears straws through both cups, and hands one to Gale.

He takes a sip and moans in contentment.
“Mmm… It’s so good!”

Gale feels a blush creeping up his neck and takes a cautious sip.
“Eugh, gods! It’s so sweet! How can you like that?”

Astarion flashes him a sultry look as he sips through his straw.
“It’s delicious, darling. Sweet, just like me.”

He’s barely finished the line before bursting into laughter.
“I’m kidding, darling. But I do have a sweet tooth.”

“Try one of the bobas—they’re at the bottom.”

Gale takes another sip, then immediately rushes to spit the boba pearl into the trash.
“That’s even worse! The texture is irredeemable!”

Astarion laughs again, his eyes crinkling with amusement. Gale shakes his head and hands Astarion his cup.

“You can have that, if you’d like. I’m certainly not going to subject myself to it again.”
“All the more for me, then.”

Astarion happily sips from both bubble teas as he cajoles Gale into binge-watching The Real Housewives of Calimshan with him. With every episode, he inches closer. By the time Morena comes home from her craft group, Astarion is resting his head on Gale’s chest, Gale’s arms holding him close.

Chapter Text

“Come on, Astarion! We’re going to be late!”

“You can’t rush perfection, Gale! Do you want me to be ugly?” Astarion calls out of the bathroom down the hall.

“You could never be ugly, Astarion. You’re always a vision,” Gale replies.

Astarion walks into the hallway, giving some final adjustments to his hair. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

It takes all of Gale’s self-control not to gasp in surprise. Astarion is wearing a black satin jumpsuit with a V-neck that exposes most of his chest. The black, strappy combat boots he’s wearing complement the look, as do the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing.

“Yes, you’re certainly looking presentable. Shall we go?” Gale asks.

In comparison, Gale feels entirely underdressed in his slacks and button-up, but it’s too late to change now.

He’s finally been cleared to drive by Halsin, who no longer considers him enough of a self-harm risk to warrant concern. He grabs the keys to Morena’s SUV and heads to the passenger side. He opens the door for Astarion, who climbs in gracefully.

“Thank you, darling,” Astarion says.

Gale gets into the car. It’s jarring to be behind the wheel after so long. Thankfully, much like riding a bicycle, remembering how to drive is quick. By the time Gale feels like he has the hang of it, they’ve arrived at Wyll’s apartment building.

“I’m impressed, darling. You got us here in all in one piece. Not that I ever doubted you,” Astarion says.

Gale follows Astarion inside the building. It’s very luxurious, nothing like Gale’s apartment. Not that he’s been there for a while, finding it better to stay away from that part of his life while he recovers.

They ring the doorbell, and Gale is shocked when a familiar face opens the door. He hadn’t recognized Karlach’s name when Astarion mentioned it, but seeing the woman now, she’s not someone Gale could ever forget. Karlach doesn’t seem to recognize him, or if she does, she shows no sign of it.

“Astarion! You look gorgeous!” Astarion preens under her praise, striking a pose for her. Next, Karlach’s gaze turns to Gale. “And you must be Gale! I’ve heard so much about you!”

She steps aside and gestures for them to enter. “Welcome, and come on in! Wyll is in the kitchen.”

Gale follows Astarion inside. The interior is modern and lavish, clearly professionally decorated. They find Wyll in the kitchen. He’s pouring a bag of frozen garlic bread onto a baking sheet.  

“Hello! You must be Gale. I’m Wyll.”

He hastily wipes his hands on a towel before shaking Gale’s hand.

“This is Karlach, she’s my girlfriend.”

“I recognize you,” Gale says, looking at Karlach. “You work at Open Hands, don’t you?”

Karlach nods back. “I do, in the ER.”

“You did my intake on the day that I… ended up in the psychiatric ward. You were very kind.” Gale raises one of his sleeves to show her the scars. They’re still healing, but no longer as painful or irritated as they were before.

“I remember you,” Karlach says gently. “But I didn’t want to bring it up unless you did. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I’ve even been cleared to drive again.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Really.”

It’s clear Astarion and Wyll have known each other for a long time. They slip easily into teasing banter while setting the table.

“We met at MageDonald’s, years ago,” Wyll explains. “My dad made me get a part-time job on evenings and weekends to ‘build character.’ I was furious at the time, but I met Astarion through it, so it wasn’t all bad.”

“It’s surprising how sweating over the deep fryer for a few years has a way of bringing people together. It was fun – until Cazador made me quit. But at least he never managed to keep me from Wyll completely.”

Wyll pauses the banter for a moment. “Would either of you like some wine? I also have seltzer and nonalcoholic wine, if you’d prefer.”

Astarion sighs. “Sadly, I’m still on some pretty serious meds, so I need to skip the alcohol for the time being. I’ll have seltzer for now, but I could try the nonalcoholic wine later. I’d be surprised if they’ve finally come up with something that isn’t complete swill.”

Gale concurs. “I’m driving, so I’ll stick with seltzer tonight.”

“I thought as much, but I didn’t want to take away the choice.” He pours their drinks, then returns with the garlic bread on a tray.

“I hope Astarion didn’t set the wrong expectations about my cooking, Gale. The only thing I know how to cook is pasta, so everything else we’re having today is coming from a bag, box, or bakery.”

“Not at all. I’m sure it’ll be delicious regardless.”

And it is. There’s something delightfully comforting about frozen garlic bread. It reminds Gale of his college days, eating garlic bread and studying late into the night.  

“It’s delicious, Wyll. I assume you have a pasta planned for the main course?”

“I do. It’s an Eggplant-n'duja rigatoni. It’s one of my signature pastas.”

“Sounds lovely.”

They chat while waiting, Wyll describing his job in environmental law at his father’s firm and Karlach offering some… vivid stories from the ER.

“… And just last week, someone came in telling us he’d ‘slipped’ onto a candle in the shower. I don’t know how he expected us to believe him. Thankfully, it was a small one, so Ava was able to dig it out without surgery.”

Wyll laughs nervously. “Love, maybe stop before we all lose our appetites. I’ll get the pasta ready. Astarion, care to help? You’ve always been better at chopping than I am.”

Astarion gets up reluctantly and follows Wyll out of the room. “If you insist, darling.”

The kitchen door closes behind them, and Wyll turns to look at Astarion with a wide grin.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad.”

“Darling, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You can’t hide from me. You love him.”

“I do no such thing! We’re roommates. Gale is very kind, but our relationship is purely platonic.”

“Let’s pretend I believe you. You’d like it to be more, wouldn’t you?”

Astarion hesitates, then nods. “Perhaps, but it’s all a moot point if Gale doesn’t feel the same.”

Wyll shakes his head. “Believe me, he does.”

Astarion looks at him incredulously. “How could you possibly know?”

“Have you not noticed? He’s been hung up on your every word all night. He looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Astarion stares, stunned. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not. Trust me. Now, help me with the eggplant.”

Meanwhile, Gale and Karlach bond over their love of animals.

“I wish we hadn’t dropped Scratch off with Ulder. I’d love for you to meet him.”

“I wish you could meet Tara, too. I think you’d get along famously.”

The door to the kitchen opens, and Wyll and Astarion waltz in, each carrying two plates.

“Dinner is served!”

The pasta is incredible. Astarion claims most of the credit, but even he concedes Wyll did well. Astarion tries the non-alcoholic red wine but quickly sets it aside.

“Tastes like vinegar,” he declares. No one else is tempted to try it.

For dessert, they have chocolate cookies from a nearby bakery. With them, Wyll brings out four mugs of milk and a plate of… crumbs?

“You’ll have to trust us on this,” he tells Gale. “Astarion and I have been doing this since MageDonald’s. Take a cookie, dip it in milk, then dip it in the Butterfinger crumbs.”

Gale is sceptical until he takes a bite.

“It’s delicious. But how on earth did you come up with this?”

Astarion chuckles at the memory. “It was at the end of a long night shift. The ice cream machine had been broken for a week, and our manager told us to throw out all of the ice cream toppings that were going stale. Same thing with the day-old cookies. Instead of throwing them away, Wyll decided to experiment.”

“And that,” Wyll adds, “was the peak of my culinary genius.”

After a few more cookies and some long goodbyes, Gale and Astarion head home.

As Gale pulls into the driveway and turns off the car, he turns to Astarion. “I had a lovely evening. Wyll and Karlach are wonderful. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“I did too, and I was happy to have you there, darling.”

Gale unbuckles his seatbelt. “Well, I suppose we should be getting inside.”

He’s about to open the door when he feels Astarion’s hand on his shoulder. He turns – and then Astarion kisses him.

Gale gasps in surprise, and Astarion pulls back, looking anxious. “I’m sorry – did I misinterpret things?”

Gale shakes his head vigorously. “No, not at all. It was merely unexpected. But most welcome, to be sure.”

Astarion’s lips curl into a smirk. “Well then… Would you like to do it again?”

“Most certainly.”

This time, Astarion kisses with confidence. His lips are eager against Gale’s, who responds in kind. Gale’s hands reach for Astarion’s waist, the elf gracefully shifting them to his neck and head instead. Their position is awkward, both leaning over the center console, but there’s nothing else Gale would rather be doing.

When they come up for air, he gives Astarion a once-over. “You look ravishing. I wanted to tell you all evening, but I didn’t think it was appropriate. Now… I think it is.”

Astarion answers with a chuckle and another kiss, this one deeper than the others. His tongue teases at Gale’s lips, and Gale lets him in, ardently exploring Astarion’s mouth with his own. Gale’s tongue on his pulls a ragged moan from Astarion’s throat, the sound travelling instantly to Gale’s gut. Astarion threads his fingers into Gale’s hair, pulling him closer.

Gale trails kisses down the column of Astarion’s neck and shoulder, trailing as far as he can on each side. Wherever Astarion’s breath hitched on the first kiss, he goes back for another, licking and sucking gently at the skin.

Astarion’s gasping and moaning with each touch. “How are you so good at this?”

“Let’s just say I have a rather practiced mouth and a very keen interest in figuring out what makes you feel good. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

“Let’s leave those to next time. Now let me do the same for you, darling.”

Astarion’s hand cards through Gale’s hair, the other cradling his chin as he sets to work finding ways to make Gale groan. Deep, sensual kisses are surefire, as is entwining their tongues. Gale’s groans turn higher in pitch as Astarion nibbles on each pulse point on his neck, raking his teeth across the skin. 

Gale winces suddenly, reaching for his neck. Astarion draws back instantly, concerned.

Gale turns his head slowly from side to side, testing the mobility. “Ah, it seems my neck didn’t take this very well. As much as I’d like to keep going, I think it would be best if I could move my head tomorrow.”

“I suppose we’ll have to pick this up another day, darling. That is… if you still want to?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

After a moment’s pause, Astarion brings his gaze to Gale’s. “Is it alright if we take things slow, and don’t go any further for the time being? This is my first time being with anyone since Cazador… I’m not quite sure where my limits are yet.”

“Absolutely. We don’t need to kiss again either, if you’d prefer that. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Astarion is surprised by the lack of hesitation in Gale’s offer. He doubted the man would push for anything more, but he’s still not used to the care Gale shows for him. It’s something he will never take for granted. “Thank you.”

Hands entwined, they walk inside, Morena thankfully already asleep. As they reach the guest room, Astarion pauses at the door.

“Goodnight, Gale.”

“Goodnight, Astarion.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Gale wakes up before Astarion. His mother is out at an early-morning Pilates class, so he has the kitchen to himself. He decides to make pancakes for breakfast for both of them, along with a peach-basil compote for some extra sweetness. It’s the kind of thing he used to enjoy making—before the depression got too bad.

Astarion enters the kitchen while Gale is frying the second-to-last pancake. He hugs Gale from behind, pressing a kiss into his shoulder.
“Good morning, darling,” he murmurs.

“Good morning. I’m making us breakfast,” Gale replies. “I hope you like peaches.”

“I do. Is there anything I can help with?”

“No—unless you want to make coffee.”

“I can do that. I think.”

Astarion eventually manages, though Gale has to walk him through the measurements for the coffee and water.

Ten minutes later, they sit down together with coffee and pancakes.

“These are delicious,” Astarion says. “And the compote is incredible.”

“Thank you. The compote is something I perfected a few years ago. And the pancakes are a recipe I learned from my mother when I was a boy.”

“I didn’t know you liked to cook.”

“I did, until the depression took over. But I’m starting to feel more like cooking again, so I’m trying to make the best of it.”

“I’m glad. With food like this, darling, you can cook for me any time.”

Gale smiles. “Do you have any plans for today?”

“I need to go back home to pick up my mail,” Astarion says. “I’m worried there might be something important from the court about my restraining order. Last time I ignored my mail, Godey went free, so… I’m trying to learn from that.”

“Hmm… Do you want me to come with you?”

“If you have the time. It might be best to have someone else there—it might stop me from spiraling back into another panic.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” Gale says. “Let me know when you want to leave. Mum left us the car, I'll drive us. We can stop for boba after.”

“Good! There’s another drink I’ve been wanting to try.”

As much as he knows he’s safe with Gale, Astarion’s hands are shaking profusely by the time they reach his door. He can’t stabilize them enough to get the key in the lock.

Gale lays a steady hand over his. “Would you like me to go in first?”

Astarion nods and gratefully hands over the key.

Gale unlocks the door without a hitch, revealing a few envelopes and a single A4 paper on the floor.

The paper is a blown-up copy of Cazador’s obituary, with a single sentence scrawled in red across the bottom:

Cazador Szarr
26 Uktar 1964 – 13 Tarsakh 2024
Husband, Visionary, CEO

"He walked through the world with purpose, and left it changed."

Cazador Szarr was a driven and charismatic leader whose sharp mind and enduring ambition left a mark on everyone he met. Known for his confidence, eloquence, and unwavering determination, he spent his life building a legacy that reached far beyond the boardroom. He will be remembered for his generosity, his mentorship, and the undeniable presence he brought into every room.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID

Gale swoops down to pick up the stack of mail, folding the note and slipping it into his pocket. Seeing it would probably send Astarion into another panic, and there’s no need to worry him unnecessarily… is there?

He steps inside, scanning the room to make sure everything is untouched since their last visit. Satisfied, he calls to Astarion, still lingering in the hallway.

“Come on in. There’s nobody here but us.”

He hands Astarion the envelopes. “These were by the door.”

Astarion rifles through them. “Nothing from the courts—just bills. I could grab a few books while we’re here, though.”

“Absolutely. Let me know if you need any help.”

Astarion shakes his head, and Gale sits down on the couch to wait. The folded obituary burns in his pocket. No doubt it was left by Godey, but what is it that the man claims to know?

Astarion hasn’t told Gale much about Cazador’s death. It’s not surprising there are gaps in his knowledge, but the note feels ominous. Maybe he should have just handed it over with the rest of the mail.

Or should he?

Gale should leave it alone. Astarion will tell him when he’s ready.

…Won’t he?

Books packed, they head to the boba shop. Astarion chooses a Taro Bubble Milk Tea with coconut jelly and extra boba; Gale opts for what sounds like the least offensive item on the menu - an oolong milk tea with no boba and no sweetener.

They sit at a table by the window. The shop is calm, with only a few other customers.

“Is there anything else you’d like to do today?” Gale asks.

“Not really. You have a session with Halsin later, right?”

“I do, but not for a few hours.”

“In that case,” Astarion says, “can we go home and watch some Better Call Volothamp?”

“Sure. I think we have time for an episode or two before I have to leave.”

Despite the show being one of Gale’s favorites, he can’t stop thinking about the note in his pocket.

“So, Gale,” Halsin begins. “What do you have for me today?”

“…I may have made a mistake. With Astarion.”

Halsin doesn’t respond, waiting patiently.

“We’re… dating? Maybe? We kissed, at least.”

Halsin smiles warmly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. But that's not what concerns me. We went to his apartment today. He couldn’t get the door open, so I went in first. There was some mail on the floor, and I picked it up. On top of the pile, there was a note. It was threatening, and I didn’t want him to panic, so… I took it. And I didn’t tell him.”

Halsin’s gaze remains neutral, giving Gale space to think.

“I should tell him, right? But how do I explain it now? Should I say I didn’t want him to panic, and that he doesn’t owe me an explanation if he doesn’t want to give one? Or should I pretend I didn’t see anything and destroy the note? But I’m such a bad liar. I don’t think I could do it. What should I do?”

“Gale,” Halsin says gently, “I can tell you care for Astarion a great deal. And your instinct to hide the note came from a good place. But I do think honest, open relationships are often the healthiest in the long run.”

Gale sighs. “They are, aren’t they? Then why is this so hard?”

“Because honesty always requires more from us than lies. It means confronting uncomfortable truths and feelings so we can grow. It’s not about doing what’s easy, but about doing what’s right. And with everything you and Astarion have been through, I think you already understand that.”

“I do,” Gale says quietly. “With Mystra, I avoided confrontation. Truths, lies, it didn’t matter. It was easier to stay quiet so she wouldn’t have anything to be angry about. Of course, her anger never had anything to do with what I did, and everything to do with how she felt.”

Halsin nods.

“She took every chance she could to lie to me. Once, I caught her kissing another man on our couch. She laughed and said she was showing him how to tie a cherry stem into a knot. Apparently, you can do that without the cherry. I confronted her later, and she blew up - accused me of overreacting and being ridiculous. Eventually, she convinced me I’d imagined the whole thing, and that she’d never touched him.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Angry. Then confused. The worst part was when she pretended it never happened. She did the same thing last week when she called about her mother—called me ‘baby’ on the phone, acted like my suicide attempt was just an accident. Like it had nothing to do with her.”

“I can see why that would be upsetting,” Halsin says. “Can you think of other times when she convinced you your experiences weren’t real?”

“…So eventually,” Gale continues, “I couldn’t believe my thoughts or feelings. If someone told me the sky was green, I would’ve believed them. I guess that’s how I ended up here in the first place. She told me the world would be better off without me to burden anyone, and I believed her.”

“What do you think now?”

“I still feel like a burden sometimes. But I trust my feelings more. And I want to get better. I need to see what life can be—if I let it. If I let myself be happy with people who make me happy.”

“Do you feel like that’s possible for you?”

“I do. I think I’m closer to that than I have been in years.”

Chapter Text

After his session, Gale heads directly to his room. There’s too much on his mind—thinking about how his conversation with Astarion will go, and worrying about what will happen if Astarion decides he’s not worth the trouble. Or the lies.

A knock sounds on the door.

Gale sighs. “Come in.”

Astarion pokes his head around the door. “Hello, darling. Are you doing all right? You didn’t stop to say hello like you normally do after a session.”

“There’s… something I’d like to talk to you about. Would now be a good time?”

The color drains from Astarion’s face as a worried expression takes over. “Talk to me? I hope I haven’t done anything to offend you. You’re not regretting the kissing from last night, are you?”

“No, no! Not at all. It’s me who’s behaved badly.”

“…You have?”

Gale swallows the lump in his throat and nods.

“When we were at your apartment, I took something. A note that came through the mail. I didn’t want to alarm you, so I hid it from you. In hindsight, that was wrong.”

“What was it?”

Gale digs the paper from his pocket and unfolds it.

Cazador Szarr
26 Uktar 1964 – 13 Tarsakh 2024
Husband, Visionary, CEO

"He walked through the world with purpose, and left it changed."

Cazador Szarr was a driven and charismatic leader whose sharp mind and enduring ambition left a mark on everyone he met. Known for his confidence, eloquence, and unwavering determination, he spent his life building a legacy that reached far beyond the boardroom. He will be remembered for his generosity, his mentorship, and the undeniable presence he brought into every room.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID

Gale rushes to explain himself as the color drains from Astarion’s face. “I can’t imagine this being welcome, and you told me you panicked last time you got something in the mail from Godey, so I just took it. You don’t need to explain anything to me, I just needed to show you.”

Astarion collapses onto Gale’s bed with a deep sigh.

“It’s certainly Godey’s doing,” he says. “It’s just like what he sent me last time. He knows I killed Cazador.”

Gale’s eyes snap open. “You did what?”

“I killed him. Very nearly killed myself, too. The police investigation concluded it was an accident, but it wasn’t.”

Gale drops a hand onto one of Astarion’s.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I want that to be clear.”

“I know. But I need to get it off my chest. I hope it goes without saying that you should never tell anyone else about this.”

“Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”

Astarion nods, then begins. “Cazador had been torturing me for years. I’d been thinking about it for a long time, and I didn’t care if I lived or died. I just needed it all to end. One day, we were driving along the Coast Way to Candlekeep to visit one of Cazador’s friends.”

Astarion shudders, pausing to gather the courage to continue. “And… he switched on autopilot in the car. He always liked me to service him while the autopilot was on, and that day was no exception. So he backed up his seat, undid his belt and seatbelt, and started reaching for my head, like always. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a truck heading toward us in the oncoming lane, and at the last moment, I grabbed the steering wheel and veered us into its path.”

“I didn’t care what happened after that. I just needed to make sure he could never hurt me again. I woke up in the hospital after two weeks in the ICU with injuries on most of the right side of my body.”

The tears begin to run down Astarion’s face. Gale holds out his arms, offering a hug. Astarion leans in, burying his face in Gale’s shoulder. Gale wraps his arms loosely around Astarion.

“I cried when the nurse told me Cazador had died,” Astarion murmurs. “I think she could tell it wasn’t just because I was sad - I’m sure she must’ve seen some of my old scars. Her telling me was the happiest I’d ever been. If only I had known what horrors lay in store for me after that.”

Astarion pulls back slightly, dabbing his tears away. “Godey was the first person to visit me. I won’t go into any details, but that visit led to the testimony that sent him to prison. It also ended with me in the psych ward. I bounced between psych, ortho, and the rehab ward for months before they finally let me go home.”

“I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like,” Gale says quietly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“At least I’m more or less back to normal, physically. Some truly churlish githyanki physical therapists on the rehab ward put me through hell to get me back in shape. I’m back to nearly full function, apart from the scars and the old damage to my back.”

Astarion wipes away the last of his tears and looks up at Gale. “I think you know how I’m doing mentally. Living with you at your mother’s house because I’m too scared to go back to my own tells you just about everything you need to know.”

“You're here, Astarion. You're leaving the house, talking to people, and going to therapy. That's a great accomplishment in itself. Especially with what you’ve been through.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. I hate how indebted I feel to you and Morena. It feels too similar to how I ended up with Cazador in the first place.”

“Would it help to think of it as you helping me?” Gale offers. “I’d probably be with Mystra right now if not for you keeping me in check, boba emergencies and all.”

A small smile appears on Astarion’s face. “You would, wouldn’t you? It’s a symbiotic relationship, then.”

“And that’s how relationships should be. If… that’s what this is.”

“I don’t know. But isn’t it nice, to not know?”

Gale disagrees, but he’s not about to pressure Astarion into labeling whatever is between them. “I’m happy with whatever makes you happy, Astarion.”

Gale’s gaze shifts to the floor, his voice almost a whisper. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

“I feel the same way about you, Gale.”

Astarion snuggles himself back into Gale’s chest, pulling back slightly as he feels Gale’s hands hover.

“The scars I mentioned… There are a lot of them. It’s why I don’t like it when people touch me on my back or right side.”

“Do they hurt?”

“Not really. It’s more of an emotional thing. Most people recoil when they feel or see them. It makes me feel… disgusting.”

“You’re not disgusting, Astarion. For the record, I don’t mind scars.” Gale says, continuing softly: “With that said, your comfort is the most important thing to me. I’ll only touch you where you want me to.”

“You say that, but I think you’d reconsider if you saw them, darling.”

“Try me.”

Astarion takes it as a challenge. He strips off his shirt and drops it on the floor, baring his right side and back to Gale and watching his reaction.

Astarion wasn’t wrong when he said there were a lot of scars. They’re extensive - a network of burns, gashes, and punctures across his side and back. His back is by far the worst: a crosshatch of scars rests in the center, thinning out toward the edges. Some of it looks like letters carved on top of each other. Gale’s almost certain he can make out the letters ‘s,’ ‘l,’ and ‘t’ in the hodgepodge. The scars are in different stages of healing, clearly years in the making.

Gale is astonished that Astarion survived those years, and even more so that he trusts him enough to show him the scars. Gale studies the marks for a moment longer before turning his attention to Astarion’s face.

“So? Disgusted yet?” Astarion asks, looking over his shoulder at Gale.

“No. I’m in awe of you for surviving so much.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“What if I asked you to touch them?”

“I would. Do you want me to?”

Astarion thinks for a moment. “No.”

“Then I won't.”

“Touching my back is fine when I have a shirt on, and it’s okay if you brush past the scars, but I don’t like it when people stop to feel them. Or you can avoid my back entirely, if you like.”

“I'll make sure of it. Thank you for telling me. It can’t have been easy.”

Astarion leans into Gale’s chest again. When Gale doesn’t move, Astarion takes Gale’s arms and places them around his waist.

“You can do this, for example.”

Gale pulls Astarion closer and kisses him. Astarion kisses him back, leaning even further into Gale. His balance falters, and they tumble onto the bed together.

They continue kissing for a few minutes, aiming for comfort rather than passion. Astarion soon finds himself resting his head on Gale’s broad chest, listening to the man’s calm heartbeat under his ear. Gale carefully drapes a hand over the elf’s shoulders, luxuriating in the scent of his bergamot shampoo.

Later in the evening, when Morena comes looking, she finds them fast asleep in one another’s arms.

Chapter Text

Gale’s almost forgotten Mystra’s existence by the time she calls him again. He’s watching old reruns of CSI: Baldur’s Gate with Astarion and quickly makes an excuse about a work call. He moves to his bedroom for some privacy for the call, but thankfully reconsiders and declines it.

Thirty seconds later, Gale is bombarded with a series of text messages.

WHERE ARE YOU?

YOU HAVEN’T VISITED IN DAYS!

SHE’S GETTING WORSE, AND I CAN’T KEEP MAKING EXCUSES FOR YOU!

WOULD YOU REALLY DO THIS TO A DYING WOMAN???

Gale takes a shaky breath. He knows she’s just saying it to rile him up, but it’s hard not to react. She spent years breaking down his self-esteem so that he’d do anything she asked him to. It’s hard to ignore that kind of conditioning after being in it for so long.

When he doesn’t reply after 10 minutes, he receives two additional messages, one at a time.

You know, this is why no one can stand you, Gale.

It must be whatever drugs they gave you at the psych ward – you didn’t use to be this selfish.

Gale starts typing out a message to her, asking if she’ll be there for visiting hours tomorrow. He’s about to hit send when he remembers what Halsin told him: when dealing with Mystra, wait an hour before taking action.

He’s just set a timer on his phone for an hour when she sends another message, a classic sentiment that’s worked on him before.

You’re unforgivably cruel, Gale. I hope you know that.

It works this time, too.

Torn between the timer on the corner of his screen and the temptation to appease her to make her accusation feel slightly less true, Gale opts for option three. He cries.

He’s been feeling alright about himself lately, but her messages reawaken the doubt in his mind.

What if she’s right? What if he’s just a cruel, selfish person who no one can stand, at least for long?

With a matter of messages, she’s got him spiralling. He’s suddenly reliving every sin he’s ever committed, every unintended insult, all evidence that points towards her being right. He’s hurt people before, and now he’s doing it to a dying woman.

And eventually, he’ll do it to Astarion.

The thought of it brings his crying to a full-on sob.

He must’ve been deluding himself, thinking that he could ever deserve someone like Astarion. It’s only a matter of time before everyone around him realizes what a monster he is and leaves him. It’ll be just like Mystra, who was supposed to be the love of his life.

What if he does something irreversible to Astarion, who’s already been through so much? Maybe it would be better for Gale just to leave – go back to his apartment and try not to be so much of a bother.

Or… he could make sure he’d never be a bother again. Mystra was right about everything else – why not that, too?

Gale’s just about sunk into the bottom of his spiral when he feels a hand take the phone from his and wrap him in a hug. Whoever it is strokes circles into his back, humming a soft melody. It’s familiar, but his thoughts are too jumbled to piece together what it is. He knows he’s dissociating from the fuzzy, distant way he feels. Physically, he’s there, but emotionally, it feels like he’s a mile away.

Eventually, Gale knows he’s starting to come back to himself when he can hear and understand the voice in his ear. “Gale, darling? It’s Astarion. Can you hear me? Do you need me to go get Morena?”

He shakes his head. “No… don’t want to move.”

Astarion sighs in relief. “We don’t have to, my sweet. We’ll stay right here, I’ve got you.”

Astarion keeps humming the melody and stroking Gale’s back until Gale sniffles loudly and wipes some tears on his sleeve.

Astarion hands him the tissue box from the desk. “Here.”

Gale blows his nose, tossing the tissue into a wastepaper bin next to the desk. “Thanks.”

“Once you’re feeling a little better, would you like to tell me what this was all about?”

Gale doesn’t reply, so Astarion keeps talking.

“I’m worried about you, love. You said you had a work call, then I found you in here half an hour later, sobbing and completely out of it. Did something happen with your job?”

Gale can barely choke out the words. “It wasn’t work. It was Mystra.”

 He can feel Astarion tense beside him, and his tone drops to a growl.

“What did the bitch want?”

There’s not a chance in the hells Gale makes it through an explanation without backing into another spiral. “Give me my phone. You can read it from there.”

Astarion obliges, handing the phone to Gale. Gale unlocks it and passes it back to Astarion, not wanting to hold it for a second longer than he already has. Astarion scans the messages and scowls. “What a hag! Do you want me to delete them?”

Gale hesitates. “Can you save them somewhere first? As evidence?”

“I can export the message history and send it to your email.” Gale nods, and for the next few minutes, Astarion types on his phone, nails clacking onto the screen.

“Done. I’ll delete the messages now. By the way, your timer is going to go off in 10 minutes. What’s it for?”

“It’s for Mystra. Halsin taught me never to do anything immediately with her. The timer was for an hour, to give me time to think before I called her back.”

“Are you still planning to?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Gale thinks for a moment, then looks at Astarion. “Can you block her phone number, too?”

Astarion smiles. “Of course, Gale.”

He does just that, setting the phone down on the bed when he’s done.

A moment of silence follows, Astarion once again the one to break it.

“You’re a good man, Gale Dekarios. You’re kind, selfless, and so very loved by the people around you. I just needed to tell you that, in case you were still thinking about what she said.”

He brings Gale into a hug and presses a kiss onto Gale’s forehead.

“You’re incredible, Gale. Always remember that.”

If Mystra’s words reawakened the doubts in Gale’s mind, Astarion’s are the ones to banish them. He’s not sure Mystra ever comforted him like this, no matter the circumstance. Gale comforted her, of course, but she never returned the favor.

Gale holds no illusions that Mystra would leave him alone just because of a few texts he ignored and a blocked number, but for the moment, he’s happy in Astarion’s arms. It’s miraculous how quickly Astarion can walk him back from the edge and back to a place of calm.

Gale decides that forever long this lasts, he’s going to enjoy it with every fiber of his being.

Their hug soon morphs into a cuddle, Gale resting his head on Astarion’s chest as they lie together. The comforting sounds of Astarion’s heartbeat and breathing lull Gale into a peaceful trance where he remains until he falls asleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Gale disentangles himself from a sleeping Astarion and heads to the kitchen for breakfast.

Morena is there, sipping on a cup of tea and reading the Baldur’s Gate Gazette. Gale pours himself a cup of tea with milk and plates up a fresh blueberry muffin for breakfast.

Morena waits for him to settle down, then ambushes him. “Have you told him you love him?”

Gale chokes on his tea, still sputtering as he chokes out a  “What?”

“Astarion. You love him. Have you told him?”

“How did you know?”

“I came looking for you one night and found you sleeping in each other’s arms. That and the way you look at him.”

Gale sighs. “I haven’t. Not yet. I don’t think he’s ready.”

Morena looks at him with eyes so sharp it’s like she’s looking into his soul. “Are you?”

Gale nods resolutely. “Yes. I’ve been ready since he came to stay here.”

Morena hums in agreement. “I thought so.”

She continues before Gale can. “He’s good for you. And I think you’re good for him.”

“I think so too, mum.”

Astarion’s jaw hangs open as he listens from his place in the hallway. He got up a few minutes after Gale, but stopped in the hallway when he heard Morena’s first question to Gale.

Astarion’s heart is pounding in his chest, knowing how Gale feels about him. The feeling surprises him. He expected to feel claustrophobic, backed into a corner. Ready to run away.

But instead, he feels… Happy. Excited.

He’s not sure if it’s love he feels, but whatever it is, it’s certainly nice.

A bit later, once Morena’s left to see a friend, he meets Gale in the kitchen.

Pouring himself a coffee, Astarion keeps his voice casual despite the nervousness he feels. “I was thinking – after group therapy today, would you like to go out to dinner? Somewhere nice?”

“I’d love to. Where were you thinking?”

The question has him stumped. Unfortunately, Cazador had been a fan of expensive restaurants, and there aren’t many in Baldur’s Gate that Astarion hasn’t been to with him. Often, they were what Cazador used to ply him before another night with one of Cazador’s friends.

“I… can’t think of anything. What about you?”

Unbeknownst to Astarion, Gale is thinking much the same. Mystra sees herself as quite the foodie, so most highbrow restaurants are possible places to run into her, something Gale doesn’t quite trust himself to handle.

“I can’t either. Mystra likes expensive restaurants, and I don’t know if I can handle the memories.”

Astarion exhales a sigh of relief. “Oh, Cazador too. There aren’t many expensive restaurants that we haven’t been to together.”

“Hmm… Do you mind if it’s not somewhere fancy?”

“Not at all.”

“What about… Chili’s? I’ve been there with Shadowheart and Nocturne a few times, and it’s been nice.”

“I’ve always wanted to go, Wyll and Karlach talk about it all the time.”

“Great, then it’s settled.”

As much as Gale would like nothing more than to give Astarion the finest things in life, he’s glad they ended up at Chili’s. For one, there’s effectively no chance that Mystra would ever set foot in a Chili’s, and for another, the prolonged medical leave he’s on is eating into his savings.

It’s certainly not the fanciest place either of them has ever been on a date, but there’s something homey about it. There’s nothing authentic about it, but they don’t let it bother them.

They lean into the corniness of the theme, ordering a nonalcoholic margarita each. Gale chooses the Barbar-ita, which has fermented lemon and pickled sunmelon rind. Astarion chooses a sweeter option, the Bard-a-rita. It’s sweet and fruity, with sunmelon and goodberry.  

They order two appetizers to share – the Fried Durinbold Cheese and the Cormyrian Cheese Fries.

Both are delicious. The Durinbold is sweet, with a honey dip and a long cheese pull. It’s served with some garlic bread, cutting the sweet with a nice hit of salt. The Cormyrian Cheese fries are even better. They’re covered in Arabellan Cheddar, bacon, pickled chilies and pickled onion. Somehow, despite the heavy helping of cheese melted on top, they’ve managed to maintain the crispness of the fries.

“By the gods! These fries are delicious! Nothing like what I had in Cormyr, of course, but delicious all the same.”

“You’ve been to Cormyr?”

“Yes. It was during a spring break during my studies. I was there with Shadowheart and a few other friends from school. We were only there for a few days, but it’s one of my fondest memories from those years.”

“I have something like that, too. I remember going to a friend’s summer house in Amn as a child. It was hell to convince my parents to let me go, but it was one of the best weeks of my childhood.”

“Maybe we could take a trip like that together one day?”

“I’d love that.”

For their main courses, Astarion orders a rare steak with a heap of mashed potatoes, and Gale orders the Suzailian Hot Chicken. The potatoes are luscious and velvety, seasoned with garlic and parsley oil. The steak is perfectly rare. Gale’s chicken is crispy, pungent, and spicy, coated in a sauce of fermented chili oil, paprika, and cumin.

They share a few bites of each.

“Gods, your chicken is spicy!”

“Isn’t it great? Just like they serve it in Suzail.”

“I don’t understand how you can eat that!”

“I could ask you the same. Your steak is practically mooing.”

They both crack up laughing.

“Maybe we just stick to our own plates?” Gale suggests, taking a bite of his chicken.

“Fine. No sharing.”

When he next speaks, Astarion’s voice is almost coy. “You know, your bed is surprisingly comfortable.”

“Is it, now?”

“Even better than the guest room.”

“Are you implying something?”

“Me? Of course not.”

Gale raises an eyebrow at him. “Not implying anything about sharing, are you?”

Astarion shrugs. “Just that I might bring my blanket over tonight and join you.”

“I’d like that.”

“You asked about my blanket, once.”

“I did.”

“I didn’t answer then, but it was my favorite blanket as a child. I took it everywhere with me. It’s one of the few things I was able to take with me when my parents kicked me out, and that also survived Cazador.”

Astarion pauses, taking a sip of his Bard-a-rita. “It was hidden in the linen closet for a long time. When he died, I promised myself I’d never hide it, or anything else that was important to me, again.”

“You and the blanket are welcome in my bed anytime. Thank you for telling me.”

Gale holds out his hand across the table, and Astarion takes it without hesitation. Soon, their waiter arrives with their desserts.

Astarion ordered a cookie the size of his head. It’s laden with ice cream and topped with chocolate sauce and a maraschino cherry.

Gale’s choice is the molten chocolate cake, also topped with ice cream and chocolate sauce.

Gale’s only taken a few bites of his before Astarion steals his first spoonful. Soon after, his second. And third.

“Hey! You have your own dessert.”

“Yes, but yours is better.”

“Should we swap, then?”

“No. I also want mine.”

“Really? Is that so?”

Astarion smiles, a pleading expression on his face.

“Please?”

Gale lets out an exasperated sigh. “Anything for you, love.”

Permission granted, Astarion devours both desserts. Gale manages to snag a few spoonfuls of each, which he considers a success.

Desserts and drinks finished, they head back home. They watch some television on the couch to pass the time. After a few hours, Gale’s yawning profusely.

“I think it’s time for me to head to bed.”

“I’ll come too. If you’ll still let me, that is?”

“Of course. Like I said, you and your blanket are always welcome in my bed.”

Gale’s bed is on the small side, thankfully wider than a twin bed, but not quite a queen. They do have the space to rest without touching one another, but as soon as they’re both under the covers, Astarion sidles up to Gale, trusty blanket in hand.

Soon, Astarion’s head is on Gale’s chest, and without thinking, Gale presses a kiss to Astarion’s head. A moment after, Astarion presses a kiss to Gale’s lips.

Gale murmurs in pleasure. “That never gets old.” “Not that anything else does either, with you.”

Astarion kisses him again. “I know.”

Gale kisses him on the forehead. “You’re very special to me, you know.”

“I know. You’re… special to me, too.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Gale wakes to a satisfied hum in his chest. A hum that isn’t his. He looks down, remembering how he fell asleep the night before. Astarion is curled against him, face buried in Gale’s chest. One hand clutches his old blanket, the other tucked under his head. Gale’s arm rests securely around Astarion’s shoulders, a barrier against the outside world.

He luxuriates in watching Astarion sleep in the golden rays of morning sun drifting through the curtains. Astarion is utterly peaceful, every trace of stress or worry wiped from his visage—at least, the parts not buried in Gale’s t-shirt.

Eventually, Astarion begins to stir, withdrawing slightly and blinking his eyes open.

“Good morning, Astarion.”

“Good morning, darling.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Hmm… maybe an hour, give or take.”

“Watching me sleep?”

“Something like that.”

Astarion kisses Gale softly. Gale returns it, and it quickly turns more insistent. Before long, Astarion’s nipping at his bottom lip and exploring his mouth with his tongue. Gale groans, pulling Astarion closer. Astarion straddles him as Gale rolls onto his back, hands threading into the elf’s hair. The shift brings their hips together, both already hard.

Astarion moans, grinding against Gale. Gale grips his hips, pulling them flush. Their kisses grow more frantic, whines and moans spilling from both.

A knock on the door shatters the moment like glass.

“Gale? Are you alright in there?”

Gale clears his throat. “Yes, Mum!”

“I just had to ask, I heard some strange sounds.”

“No problem! I was just watching a show Shadowheart recommended.”

A disapproving tut sounds from the other side. “Ah. You’ll have to tell me about it later.”

“Sure, Mum.”

As the footsteps recede, Astarion climbs out of Gale’s lap and whispers in his ear, “I can’t believe we just got cockblocked by your mother.”

“Nothing gets past her.”

“That just means we’ve got to wait until she’s out of the house before we can have sex.”

Gale chokes back a gasp. “Astarion!”

“What?”

“At my mother’s house?!”

“Where else would we be? This is certainly better than my apartment.”

Gale considers it. “You know… I haven’t been to my apartment in a while.”

“Indeed. It would be prudent to check on it, just in case.”

“I agree. Should we go later today?”

“Absolutely.”

Gale leaves his room first, heading to breakfast to occupy Morena. Astarion slips into his room for a moment before joining them a few minutes later.

“Good morning, Astarion!”

“Good morning, Morena.”

“Were you woken up by Gale’s show too?”

Astarion feigns shock as best as he can. “Yes! Sounded downright debaucherous, whatever it was.”

Morena nods. “I agree. I wasn’t expecting such a recommendation from Shadowheart. She's normally such a nice girl.”

Astarion smirks as he catches Gale blushing bright red across the table.

“Unexpected indeed.”

Gale clears his throat. “I need to stop by my apartment today. I’ll get my mail and make sure everything’s in order.”

Astarion jumps in. “I’ll join you, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure! I could use the company. Will you be ready to leave after breakfast?”

“Yes.”

In the car, Gale rambles on about his apartment, clearly nervous. “Before you get your expectations up… My apartment’s pretty small. Not nearly as nice as Morena’s house.”

“Darling, it’s yours. And it’s private. Those are all the expectations I have.”

“Good.”

“And it should be relatively clean, since nobody’s been there in a while. My mother had someone do a deep clean after… everything.”

“Also good.”

The city streets pass in a blur until they reach a grey, drab apartment building. Inside, though, it's surprisingly modern. They take the elevator to the third floor, where Gale’s apartment is at the end of the corridor.

The air is stale as they open the door, pushing aside a pile of mail.

“It’s odd there’s so much. I thought I forwarded most of it to Mum’s house.”

Gale gestures Astarion inside and closes the door. He scoops up the mail and flips through it.

“Mostly ads,” he concludes, dropping the pile onto the dining table.

He gives Astarion a quick tour. “You’ll see why I warned you. Here’s the kitchen and living room. Then the bedroom. And finally… the bathroom, complete with a bathtub. That’s it.”

Gale sighs. “It’s pathetic, I know. I’m saving up for something bigger. And it’s close to work.”

Astarion cradles Gale’s face. “It’s not pathetic. I love it.”

He kisses him. “I’m pretty sure I know who told you it was pathetic, and she’s wrong.” He punctuates each word with another kiss. “So. Incredibly. Wrong.”

Gale smiles. The shame isn’t gone—but it’s softer now, dulled by Astarion’s certainty.

“Now… I saw your bed’s made. King-sized, too, by the looks of it.”

Gale doesn’t catch the twinkle in Astarion’s eye.

“Yes. One of the best purchases I made. That and Tara’s cat tree. Before I got it, she’d climb all over me. At night, no less.”

He finally notices Astarion’s smirk. “Ah… Am I to take it you’d like to test out the bed?”

“Yes, darling. I very much would.”

A cold flush of worry works its way through Gale.

“I… can’t promise I’ll be ready for… everything.”

Astarion pauses. “Darling, do you want to do this?”

“Yes, I do. Maybe take it slow, though?”

“Absolutely. We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to. That goes for both of us.”

Surprisingly, just hearing him say it helps.

“We don’t have to go to bed either. Just say the word.”

“No, I want to.”

Gale leads Astarion to the bed and sits on the edge, drawing Astarion between his legs. Astarion kisses him, deepening as he straddles Gale and presses close. Soon, shirts are shed, and mouths explore chests and necks.

“Sensitive, are we?” Gale teases when Astarion gasps under his touch.

“Mhm… Always have been. You?”

“I… don’t know. No one’s ever tried.”

Astarion’s eyes widen in surprise, lighting up with mischief. He licks a long trail from Gale’s shoulder to his stomach, twisting back around to a nipple. He licks it gingerly at first, smirking at the surprised whine Gale makes.

As Gale’s moans and excitement build in urgency, Astarion works through many of the tricks he’s learned over the years: licking, sucking and flicking until he has Gale eating out of the palm of his hand just on nipple stimulation alone.

Astarion pulls back and smiles. “I think you might be, too.”

 Gale’s breathing is heavy, eyes dark as he looks at Astarion with awe.

“Most definitely. I wish I had known earlier.”

With another mischievous smirk, Astarion shifts lower on Gale’s hips so their cocks can rub together, earning the loudest groans yet.

“You’re… so good at this.”

“I know, darling. I’ve had years of practice.”

“Let me do the same for you?”

“Darling… You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“I want to make you feel good. Tell me what you like.”

Astarion climbs off of Gale’s lap nonchalantly. “Whatever you like will be lovely, I’m sure.”

Gale shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

Gale’s expression is stern. “No. I want to do what you like, not what I do.”

Astarion chews on his bottom lip, thinking. “I… I’m not sure what I like, really.”

Gale looks surprised for a moment, but doesn’t let it faze him. “Okay. We can figure it out, but I want this to be about you. Is there anything you don’t like?”

Astarion thinks for a moment. “My back being touched, but we’ve talked about that.”

“I also don’t like anything rough, being pushed down, or anything that causes me pain.”

Gale nods empathetically. “All very reasonable. I want you to tell me if I do something you don’t like, or if you want to stop for any reason. The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

Gale leans to kiss Astarion, who stops him with a hand on his chest.

“What about you?”

Gale’s brow furrows as he thinks. “I like to focus on my partners and make them feel good.”

Astarion smiles. “I think I can work with that.”

Gale kisses along Astarion’s neck and collar, sucking marks onto his skin. He runs his hands up Astarion’s chest and to his ears. He takes the lobes gently between his fingers, rubbing circles up and down the ridge of both ears.

“Mmmm… You’re good at that. Just the right amount of pressure.”

“I’m glad.” Gale takes the tip of his ear in his mouth, sucking on the tip as Astarion whines, canting himself off the bed. Gale moves his other hand to Astarion’s chest, brushing his nipple.

Astarion’s voice is breathy, his words almost a whisper. “Ga-ale… You have no right to be so good at this.”

“I’ve… done some reading. I’m just glad it translated to the real world.”

Astarion laughs. “Why am I not surprised?”

“It’s been nearly two decades since I was last with another man. I had to make sure I was as ready as I could be.”

At those words, Astarion’s expression turns ponderous, even a little worried.

Gale stops, looking concerned. “What is it?”

“You asked me before what I do and don’t like. Would it be alright if I didn’t go down on you, at least for a while? The whole thing with Cazador left me some trauma around it.”

“Of course, that’s more than understandable. And it would be even if you just didn’t want to. Do you still want to receive oral sex, or just avoid it altogether?”

“I think I might like it. No one ever bothered with my pleasure anyway, so that shouldn’t have any bad memories attached.”

Gale nods.

“That’s… not all.” Astarion shrinks into himself, almost like he’s preparing to be hurt. His voice drops to a murmur as he says, “I also don’t want anything in me.”

It takes Gale a moment to parse what he’s just said, but he’s glad not to make Astarion repeat himself. “That’s not a problem. We can either leave penetration off the table, or you can top me.”

Astarion is visibly relieved. “Oh. I thought this might be a deal breaker.”

“No, not at all. It’s not my first time.”

“Good. It probably won’t be forever, but right now I’m not sure I could handle it.”

“Again, that makes perfect sense.”

“Let’s just ease into it, shall we? There’s no rush.”

“I’d like nothing more.”

Astarion plants a kiss on Gale’s lips, and they go back to their earlier kissing. The kisses are no longer fervent or backed with urgency; the two men simply luxuriate in each other. Astarion lies atop Gale’s chest, intertwining their legs as Gale runs his hand through Astarion’s fluffy curls. Astarion grinds their hips slowly together as he kisses and nips at Gale’s neck, Gale returning the favor by running his tongue down Astarion’s ear.

“Ah! That gave me goosebumps!”

“Did it at least feel good?”

“Oh yes.”

Gale smirks. “Good.” Then he does it again, this time on the other ear. This time, the goosebumps are even more intense, every hair on Astarion’s body standing on edge.

“You think you can beat me, do you? I think you need a distraction.”

“Do I?”

“Mhm.”

Astarion pulls himself up slightly, running a slow hand down Gale’s body. His pace is infuriating, Gale fighting the temptation to buck his hips. When he finally reaches Gale’s jeans, he unbuttons and removes them with ease, revealing Gale’s proud and leaking cock.

“My, my. This is a lovely surprise.” Astarion runs a hand down Gale’s length, pumping it experimentally and watching for Gale’s reaction. It’s not hard to find a suitable speed and wrist flick that has Gale muffling his moans with a hand over his mouth.

“I can’t have you stifling the best part, can I?” Astarion takes Gale’s hand off of his mouth, entwining their fingers at Gale’s side. Gale’s moans ascend in pitch as Astarion works him, grateful that his neighbors are likely at work.

“Aaah! Astarion, please! I can’t last much longer like this. Please let me touch you.”

“Hmm… Should I?”

“Please.”

“Fine.”

Astarion gets up and takes a seat, leaning with his back to the headboard.

“What do you want to touch?”

“Can I have you in my mouth?”

“Of course, darling.”

Astarion kicks off his pants, a pair of black skinny jeans. He throws them across the room, leaving himself in a pair of teal briefs.

“I’ll let you do the rest.”

Gale crawls between Astarion’s legs, bending to kiss his stomach and the insides of his thighs. His gaze is reverent as he grabs Astarion’s underwear, inching it down carefully. When he gets it off, he brings it in front of him, studying it.

“Wait. What does this say?”

Astarion smiles. “If you’re reading this, you managed to bed me or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.”

“Where do you even find underwear like this?”

“I embroidered it myself. I was Facetiming Wyll and Karlach one night, and we started thinking of funny phrases to write. I embroidered them all. It’s a small thing, but it makes me smile when I’m picking out my underwear for the day.”

“I love it. I look forward to reading more of them.”

Gale plants a kiss on Astarion’s hip.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this, so please tell me if it doesn’t feel right.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure you’ll be fantastic, darling.”

Gale kisses Astarion’s cock, which perks up at the first sign of contact. He wraps his lips around the tip, licking up the bead of precum gathered there. He runs his tongue down the vein running down the bottom of Astarion’s cock, bobbing up and down as he does.

“Sweet mother of Sune!”

Gale continues bobbing, swirling his tongue around the tip every few passes.

“Ohhhh, that feels so fucking good… Whatever you do, don’t you dare stop.”

Gale brings Astarion deeper into his mouth, stopping to let his throat relax and get used to the intrusion. He moves up and down experimentally, relishing in the gasps he draws from Astarion in response.

When he comes up for air, he asks: “Is that okay? Like I said, it’s been a long time.”

“Gale, this is possibly the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

“No bad memories?”

“Absolutely not. Like I said, this is incredible.”

Gale smiles and gets back to work. This time, he takes Astarion straight into his throat, pausing to breathe and relax his throat when he needs to. When he’s ready, Gale looks up at Astarion and squeezes his hip encouragingly.

Astarion picks up on his meaning. “Do you want me to thrust?”

Gale nods.

Going out on a hunch, Astarion deepens his voice, adopting a more assertive tone. “You want me to use your mouth to take my pleasure?”

Gale nods again, eyes darkening.

“Then I will. Squeeze my thigh if you want me to stop.”

Astarion moves slowly at first, but when he’s convinced Gale can handle it, his thrusts become more urgent, eventually losing their rhythm as he gets closer to the edge. Gale has to stop him a few times as he fights the urge to gag, but encourages Astarion to continue after he recovers.

“Gale, gods… I’m close…”

Gale smiles at him, as much as a person can smile with a cock down their throat, anyway, and urges him to keep going. Astarion’s voice becomes breathy, his eyes falling shut as his head tilts back against the headboard. “Fuuuuck… Mmmmmm – Gale!”

Astarion pulls out of Gale’s mouth as comes, both of them watching his twitching member as spurts of cum splash across his stomach.

As Astarion catches his breath, Gale runs his hands up and down his thighs in what he hopes is a reassuring way.

Astarion pulls Gale up, holding his chin as their mouths meet in a kiss. “Darling, that was phenomenal. All this talk about being out of practice was for nothing.”

“I’m glad.”

Astarion looks down between Gale’s legs, his erection still standing tall. “Now – what should we do for you?”

Gale makes an awkward attempt at covering himself with his hand. “Don’t worry about me, we can just get you cleaned up.”

“I want to make you feel good, darling.”

“It’s fine, I can handle it on my own later.”

It’s Astarion’s turn to shake his head sternly. “No.”

“No?”

“No. I don’t know what’s making you so keen to ignore your pleasure, but I won’t. Unless you want to stop entirely, at which point we will.”

Gale averts his gaze in shame. “I… suppose I’m just used to it being that way. But I don’t want to stop.”

“Why am I not surprised that Mystra would ignore you in this, too? That’s not how it’s going to be with me. I promise you that in our sex, my pleasure and yours will always be equally important. Just as in everything else we do together.”

The notion brings a tear to Gale’s eye, but he nods.

“Now, darling. Shall I see if I can find the wrist movement I was using on you before? You seemed to like it.”

Gale nods again.

Astarion finds the same maneuver almost instantly, and even manages to improve upon it, using his years of experience to add the variation in pace that sends Gale careening towards the edge. Gale moans wantonly, mouth open and eyes crinkled shut.

Astarion looks at him with adoration, watching Gale enjoy himself. “There you go, my love. You look so beautiful like this.”

Gale loves the praise, groaning in pleasure as he receives it.

“Astarion… I’m close. Please…”

Astarion redoubles his efforts, picking up the pace as he feels Gale beginning to fall apart beneath him. Working off of Gale’s previous response, he adds: “You’re doing so well, darling. Just let go for me. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Gale comes almost instantaneously at the words of comfort, yelling out Astarion’s name. Astarion works him through it, moving his hands to caress Gale’s sides when he’s done.

“All good, darling?”

“Perfect.”

“I didn’t know you had a praise kink. I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

Gale blushes bright red, looking embarrassed.

Astarion continues with a smile. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I love knowing how to rile you up.”

Gale looks away, avoiding Astarion’s gaze and glancing at the clock on his bedside table.

“Gods, is it the afternoon already? We were only supposed to pick up a few things before we went back!”

“Your mother won’t mind, she’s just happy we’re out of her hair. Though I suppose we could go shower before we go back.”

Chapter Text

Gale and Astarion link hands in the hallway before stepping into the kitchen, where they find Morena baking her famous biscotti.

Astarion gives Gale’s hand a gentle squeeze. Gale begins, “Mum, we’ve got something to tell you.”

She looks up at them with a smile. “If it’s that you’re together, I’ve known for a while.”

Gale glances at Astarion. “It’s not just that. We’re thinking of moving back to my place. Just a few nights a week, now that I’m going back to work. The commute is much shorter from there, so it makes sense to stay there before workdays.”

Morena’s smile turns bittersweet.

“I knew this day would come. I’m so glad you’ve been here as long as you have, and I’m happy I’ll still get to see you. But I understand. It’s easier this way, and I’m glad you’re getting the chance to test your wings, a little at a time.”

She turns to Astarion. “And I’m glad he’s going with you. You’re good for each other. You’ll both always be welcome here.”

Gale and Astarion pack light for their first night at Gale’s place, bringing just spare clothes and some toiletries. They say goodbye to Tara and Morena, then head out to the car, a silver sedan Gale recently retrieved from his apartment building’s garage.

During the drive, Gale is clearly nervous, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Astarion takes a chance, knowing his question could either help or make things worse. “Can you tell me more about your work? I know the basics, but your job title didn’t give much away.”

“Certainly. I’m a Quantum Security Architect at SteelTech Labs. I design security systems that can resist attacks from quantum computers and evaluate potential future threats.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow. “Darling, that didn’t help at all. Can you explain it to me like I’m five?”

“Of course. I build cybersecurity systems that can protect sensitive information from hackers using quantum technology. Most current encryption won’t work once quantum computers get stronger, so I’m trying to stay ahead of the curve.”

“That sounds complicated.”

“It is. But I enjoy solving complex problems, and I like doing something that might improve the world. Plus, I really like my coworkers.”

“What are they like?”

“We’re a small team, just five of us, so we’re pretty close. Zanner is our boss, Obelia and Thindo are our engineers, and Santoria is our researcher. Zanner’s been in the field for decades, and he’s probably the smartest person I know.”

“That sounds lovely, darling.”

The next day, when Gale steps into the office, he’s greeted immediately.

“Gale! It’s good to have you back!” Zanner says. Despite being blind, he always knows who’s who by sound.

“Thanks. Let me guess — my gait gave me away?”

“Exactly. You walk the same as always. How are you doing?”

“Better than I was, at least.”

Zanner’s tone softens. “I hope it wasn’t anything work-related that led to your hospitalization?”

Gale shakes his head. “No, it was personal.”

A pause follows. Zanner looks uncomfortable before continuing. “On that note, we’ve been getting calls from Mystra. She’s been asking if you’re here or when you’ll be back. She claims to be your girlfriend. We haven’t told her anything, of course. We figured you’d say something if you wanted her to know.”

Gale feels a cold rush of dread.

“I’m so sorry, Zanner. Mystra and I broke up recently, and I guess she’s not taking it well.”

“It’s alright,” Zanner replies. “But just so you know, she tried to badmouth you. Said you froze her out for no reason, and claimed you were somehow responsible for her dying mother.”

“I’m really sorry. That’s completely out of line. She shouldn’t be involving my job in this.”

“I only brought it up to ask if we should block her number from the company lines.”

“Yes. Absolutely. There’s no reason for her to be calling here.”

“Understood. I’ll have IT take care of it. Once you’ve said hello to everyone, let me know. We can sit down and talk about how to ease your transition back and what kind of workload feels manageable.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Gale checks in with the rest of his team. Everyone seems genuinely glad to see him and relieved that he’s doing alright — or as alright as someone in his situation can be.

“Let us know when you want to grab lunch,” Obelia offers. “We thought we could go to the sushi place across the street and catch up.”

“I will, thanks. I’ll talk to Zanner first.”

He knocks on Zanner’s office door.

“Come in. Have a seat.”

Gale sits down.

“So, how are you finding everything?” Zanner asks.

“A bit overwhelming, honestly. Everything’s mostly the same, but I’m still nervous about jumping back in after so long.”

“I wouldn’t worry. It’s only been about the length of a parental leave, and I came back from mine better than ever. It’ll be tough for a few weeks, but you’ll adjust.”

“Thanks for the encouragement.”

“I thought the team could give you a brief today on the project status. Then, you can start joining meetings next week. No pressure. I’ve been the acting architect while you were gone, so everything’s under control. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good. I’d like to get involved again once I’m up to speed.”

“And we’ll keep whatever schedule works best for you, for as long as you need. It’s just a job, after all.”

“Thanks, Zanner.”

Later that evening, Gale returns to the apartment and finds Astarion sprawled on the couch, laptop beside him.

“How was your day, darling?”

“It went well. It was good to see everyone again. They’ve made great progress on the project, but assured me they still need me.”

“Nothing runs without you for long, my sweet.”

“Oh? And you’d know?”

“Of course. I nearly died of boredom while you were gone.”

Gale chuckles. “I’m sure you did.”

“In all honesty, I was looking for a job. With you back at work, I thought I should do something too. But all my experience is about a decade old, and I don’t have a degree, so options are limited.”

“I’m surprised. I thought you’d want more time to rest before going back to work.”

“Well, it's not really rest that's the problem. With my experience I don't think any work I'd be doing would be too hard. The question is more what that would be. All my experience is in modeling or food service. I’m certainly out of the running for modeling, and I’m not nineteen anymore.”

“I know. But just so you’re aware, you don’t need to go back to work right away. You can stay here as long as you need, and if you need help with your rent I can help there too.”

“Oh, it’s not about money. I inherited everything from Cazador, so I’m fine in that regard. It’s more about finding some normalcy.”

“I understand.”

“So now I’m trying to figure out what kind of job I could actually enjoy. So far, I’ve come up empty.”

“We’ll think of something together. There’s no rush.”

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

They begin to settle into a routine, staying at Gale’s every few days, then driving back to Morena’s for the days he isn’t working. Astarion follows wherever Gale goes, browsing job ads and planning the blank slate that is his life while Gale is at work.

He’s browsing the 17th results page of Indeed.fae when he hears the clang of the mailbox. He puts his laptop down on the couch and heads to pick it up.

There’s only one envelope, a letter without a stamp, a recipient, or a return address.

Knowing exactly what that means, Astarion takes a seat at the dinner table, takes a deep breath, and tears open the envelope.

The font on the paper inside is small, but its message is anything but.

Did you think I wouldn’t find you?

Your new boyfriend doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into. I’d hate for something to happen to him, his mother, or his cat.

You deserve to suffer for what you did to Cazador, and I’ll make sure you do.

Just like the first time Godey found him, Astarion’s nerves stand on end. Unlike the first time, he stays lucid enough to take action.

This place isn’t safe for Gale as long as Astarion’s in it, and neither is Morena’s. There’s no way he can have anything happen to Gale, Morena or Tara. Astarion’s mistakes are his, and his alone to bear.

He knows he has no choice. He has to leave. He pops two of his anxiety pills, packs his things, and takes an Uber back to his apartment.

It’s there that the breakdown really hits him.

It doesn’t matter what he does – Cazador is going to keep haunting him. He can never get rid of his past, and it’ll keep haunting him until he’s dead. The reality of his situation washes over him, leaving him unsure of whether to scream or cry.

There’s nothing he can do. Godey won’t be stopped by anything, legal or otherwise. Astarion supposes it’s what he deserves. It’s his penance for not seeing Cazador’s red flags before it was too late, and for what he did to get out of it. It’s just something he’s going to have to live with. Just like the fact that he’s never going to be able to have a relationship, or anyone close to him, without them being in danger.

Once again, like so much in his life, it’s pure shit.

Nothing pairs with pure shit quite like oblivion.

Astarion opens his cupboard, reaching behind baking ingredients he bought but never used for the treasure he knows is within: a bottle of Platinum Edition Absolute Vodka. It’s from Cazador’s collection, unopened but too good to pass by when Astarion was packing his things.

Halsin warned him not to drink on his medications, but that hardly seems relevant now.

Astarion pours a mugful of the vodka and downs it in a few gulps. He finds an unopened carton of cranberry juice in the cupboard to wash it down with, then goes for another mug of vodka.

Before long, he’s wasted on his couch listening to the same angsty music he listened to as a teenager. Back then, it was in secret; now he can be as loud as he likes, so he cranks up the volume. Neighbors be damned.

Gale keeps trying to call him, but Astarion won’t pick up. He can’t put Gale in any more danger. He turns off his phone.

He cries in self-pity for a while until a flood of exhaustion begins to overtake him. No matter how he tries, he can’t seem to fight it.

That’s odd, he thinks, but maybe I could use some sleep.

Astarion drifts off into the oblivion he so deeply craves.

He wakes up in a world that’s far too bright, choking on something lodged in his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut, content to at least choke to death in the dark.

A familiar voice yells out, “He’s choking! We need some help in here!”

A flurry of activity and voices surround him, but Astarion can’t focus on any of them for the tube in his throat and the chaos in his mind.

It’s only when the same voice turns to him again and a gentle hand touches his shoulder that Astarion catches back on. “You’re okay, Astarion. You’re in the hospital. Stay as calm as you can, the doctor is here to take out your breathing tube now.”

He hears another voice, female, but much more authoritative. “Astarion, I’m going to pull the tube out now. One, two, three…”

He’s overwhelmed by a mix of coughs and gags as the intrusion is removed and a basin is shoved into his hands. Unceremoniously, he empties his stomach into the basin, which is replaced with a fresh one when he’s done. Gentle hands wipe his mouth with a wet cloth and hand him a cup of water.

He looks up and sees Gale’s concerned face staring back at him, water jug still in hand. “How do you feel?”

“Awful. My throat is sore, and my head is killing me.”

“Do you know why you’re in the hospital?”

“No. I don’t remember anything after I got back to my apartment and cracked open Cazador’s vodka.”

“You overdosed on alcohol and benzodiazepines. Your breathing nearly stopped, and you’ve been in the ICU for 2 days.”

Astarion’s mouth drops open. “Oh, shit.”

“The doctors said you’ll likely make a full recovery, but you’ll have to stay on a psychiatric hold before they can clear you to go home with me.”

The familiar panic claws its way up his throat. “Gale, no. I can’t come home with you.”

Gale looks puzzled. “Is this because of the letter? I don’t care about that. There’s nothing Godey could do to me that would make me not want to be with you.”

“You don’t understand what he’s like. He’ll find a way to haunt me until I’m dead.”

Gale pauses. “Was that… what you were trying to do?”

Astarion shakes his head frantically. “No! Not at all! It was an accident. I didn’t realize that I should’ve taken Halsin’s warnings not to mix my meds and alcohol so seriously.”

Gale takes Astarion’s hand in his. “I’m glad. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Astarion, I need you in my life. You make me so happy. I want us to get better together. But for that, I need you alive, and I need you healthy.”

“Hey! You stole my line.”

Gale smiles. “Only part of it.”

The same doctor as before enters the room, accompanied by a kind-looking male nurse.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ancunín. I’m Dr. Nettie, and this is Nurse Rath. We’ve been taking care of you for the past few days. How are you feeling?”

“Terrible. I have an awful headache and a sore throat. Though from what Gale was telling me, those are the least of my worries.”

“He’s right. You very nearly died. If not for him and your friends, you might well be dead. You probably didn’t have much time until your breathing stopped entirely.”

“I guessed you were at your apartment,” Gale adds. “So I called Wyll and Karlach. Thankfully, they had your spare key. Karlach was there to help until the paramedics arrived. I didn’t do much besides panic, unfortunately.”

“You worked out where I was, darling. Sounds like that made all the difference.”

Nettie clears her throat and continues. “In any case, I expect you to make a full recovery, at least from a physical standpoint. I’ll keep an eye on you for another few hours, then send you up to Dr. Silverbough in psychiatry. You’ll be kept on a psychiatric hold for at least 72 hours so he can determine whether you’re safe to leave the hospital.”

“Yep. I know the drill.”

“I thought you might, but it never hurts to go over the basics. Unfortunately, we do have to place you in restraints until you’re transferred upstairs. You’re considered a self-harm risk until proven otherwise.”

“I know this part, too.” Astarion offers his wrist to Rath, who wraps a restraint around it, attaching the other side to the bed. They repeat the same on the other side, rendering Astarion more or less immobile.

Astarion looks to Gale, who gives him a reassuring smile. “Can Gale stay with me until I go up?”

Nettie nods. “Yes, but Rath will keep an eye on you, just in case.”

Rath shrugs. “Sorry, Astarion. You’re my only patient, and I have to keep busy somehow.”

“Of course. It’s not like you could take it easy for a day now that your patient is okay.”

Rath smiles. “Can’t let the hospital pay me for nothing. Nettie and I will examine you, a phlebotomist will draw some blood, then we’ll give you some time to rest.”

“Sounds good.”

Poking and prodding complete, Gale finally scoots his chair beside Astarion.

“I was so worried about you. I found the note when I came home, and you wouldn’t answer my calls. I was worried something had happened to you. I went to your place first thing, but you didn’t answer the door. Thank god you left the music on, so I knew you were in there. Then Wyll and Karlach came, and…”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I understand why you did it, I probably would’ve done the same. But you don’t need to. Not for me, not for my mother, and not for Tara.”

“Does Morena know?”

“Yes. I called her as soon as I found the note to see if you were there, and I couldn’t keep the secret for long after that. She wanted to sit with you, but they only allow one visitor at a time. Hells, I haven’t even let Wyll and Karlach in here unless I’ve had to go home to sleep.”

“What did she say?”

“That she’s worried about you, but there’s nothing that could happen that would make her stop caring about you, or make you unwelcome in her home.”

Astarion feels a tear run down his cheek. Gale wipes it away with a tissue.

“I love you, Astarion. I didn’t tell you before because I was afraid it was too soon, but seeing you like that… I realized I can’t wait any longer.”

“I… love you too, Gale. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m sorry to have hurt you.”

“I forgave you the moment the doctors told me you would be okay.”

 Gale plants a kiss on Astarion’s forehead and returns to his seat. He holds Astarion’s hand until Nettie and Rath return for their final checks before Astarion’s move to psychiatry.

Gale follows Astarion to the doors of the psychiatric ward, giving his hand one last squeeze before they part.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready to come home.”

Chapter Text

Nothing has changed since last time. Astarion even gets the same room as during his previous stay, the familiar beige walls staring back at him. It’s not long before Halsin comes to get him, bringing him back to his office, where the green lava lamp oozes away on the desk.

Halsin smiles sadly. “Hello, Astarion. I was hoping not to see you back here. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Hi, Halsin. I was hoping not to come back either, but there was a little incident with my medication and a bottle of Absolut, so... here I am.”

“An accidental incident or a purposeful one?”

“Accidental.”

“Hmm... and you’re certain?”

“Yes! I swear I wasn’t trying to kill myself. Just... numb things for a while.”

“Alright. Do you want to talk about what you needed to numb?”

“Not really, but I know we’re not going to get anywhere until I do.” He exhales. “It was Godey. The guy who landed me in psych the first time. He left me some letters at my apartment before, but yesterday he left one at Gale’s. It threatened Gale, Morena, and Tara, Gale’s cat. Just because they matter to me.”

“Gale mentioned that when you came in. What happened after you read the letter?”

“I knew I had to leave Gale. I can’t have him getting hurt because of me. It’s not fair. He’s already been through so much. I was panicking, so I took a couple of anxiety meds before I left.”

“I went back to my apartment and tried to come to grips with the fact that I can never know joy or love again. This only ends when either Godey is dead or I am.”

“None of those things are true,” Halsin says gently. “But I suppose that’s where the numbing came in?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still have a restraining order against Godey?”

“Yes, but as you can see, it’s doing fuck all.”

“You should know that Gale called the police shortly after you came to the hospital. He reported the incident, and they were able to find security footage of Godey entering and leaving his apartment building, dropping the envelope through the mail slot. He seems to have some very vigilant neighbors.”

Astarion barks out a surprised laugh. “Was it Sybil? It had to be! The old crone’s got a dozen cameras pointing every which way from her apartment. She once told Gale off for parking on the curb to let me out - for two minutes! At midnight! There’s no way she was even awake, let alone watching.”

“In any case,” Halsin continues, “the police would like to speak with you about the broken restraining order. You’re under no obligation to do so if you don’t want to, especially while you’re a patient here.”

Astarion’s eyes go wide. “I... don’t want to talk to them.”

“That’s fine. I wouldn’t want you speaking to anyone outside the unit today anyway,” Halsin says. “Now, let’s talk about why you felt you ‘can never know joy or love again’ after receiving Godey’s letter.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

“I can’t bring anyone else into danger. Or into the mess that is my life.”

“And when you decided to leave Gale to protect him, did you ask him what he thought?”

“…No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s so chivalrous, he’d probably want to stay anyway. And end up getting hurt.”

“So you didn’t trust him to make that decision himself?”

“…I suppose not.”

“Would you want him to make that kind of decision for you?”

Astarion pauses, Halsin’s words sinking in. “No.”

“Do you see the problem with that?”

Astarion drops his gaze to his lap. “Maybe.”

“Did you talk to him before they brought you up to psychiatry?”

“I did. He said he wanted to be with me despite everything.”

“What did you think of that?”

A heavy silence lingers before Astarion answers.

“I wanted it, too.”

Halsin nods, a small smile playing on his lips.

After that, Astarion fills out the endless symptom assessments. There's some for depression, anxiety, PTSD, and bipolar disorder. Halsin scores them and nods.

“Assuming you’re being honest, you’re not far off from where you’ve been these past few months. The symptoms are still present, but it seems your hospitalization was indeed the result of an accidental overdose brought on by a PTSD episode, not suicidal intent. Nothing requiring longer-term inpatient care.”

He pauses, then adds, “We’ll monitor you and repeat the assessments before discharge, and we’ll make some small adjustments to your medications to reduce the frequency of your PTSD episodes.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Alright. We’ll meet again tomorrow. And remember, you can come talk to me anytime.”

The next day, Astarion sits down with Halsin again.

“The police are still requesting to speak with you,” Halsin says.

“Are you sure you don’t want to?”

“Yes. I’m not talking to them.”

“Okay. I’ll tell them that I believe discussing Godey is detrimental to your mental health and recovery. Hopefully they’ll back off after that.”

Astarion nods.

“I also want you to remember,” Halsin continues, “that you’re protected by confidentiality here. Unless you’re in danger of hurting yourself or someone else, your past isn’t something we need to report. In case you ever do want to talk.”

“Thank you. But I’ve told you about Cazador. I’m sure you can figure the rest out from there. I don’t want to talk to the police about it.”

“And you won’t have to. Gale’s testimony and the video footage should be more than enough.”

They finish the session by preparing a plan for Astarion’s return home - which, he supposes, is wherever Gale is now.

As they wrap up, Halsin adds, “I believe Gale and his mother can be a great support system for you. Don’t be afraid to lean on them if you need help.”

Typically, Astarion might protest, but the love he’s felt from Gale and Morena over the past few weeks has softened something in him. He simply smiles and nods.

On his final day on the ward, Astarion mostly waits.

He hopes the police will take action regarding the restraining order, but there’s nothing he can do about it from inside the hospital. He talks to Halsin when he can, and passes time leafing through books from the library shelf. It’s strange being here without a pressing reason. Unlike last time, he’s (mostly) in his right mind - not severely depressed, paranoid, or suicidal.

The new medication seems to be helping too, keeping his worst thoughts at bay.

When he can, Astarion calls Gale. Gale updates him on work, Tara, and Morena. He promises to be there the day Astarion’s discharged. Astarion also calls Wyll and Karlach. Though Wyll sounds disappointed at first, Karlach quickly steers the conversation to lighter ground, getting all of them laughing again.

Mostly, though, it’s just a waiting game. Astarion’s choosing to believe Gale when he says he’ll be there, waiting for him to come home. And so, for once, he isn’t worried.

There’s nothing left to do but wait.

Chapter Text

As promised, Gale is there when Astarion’s 72 hours are up and he’s released from the hospital. He greets Astarion with a warm hug, a kiss, and a change of clothes.

“Hi. I was thinking we might stop for boba on the way home. What do you think?”

“I’d love that, darling.”

“Just to clarify… which home would you like to go to?”

“Wherever you’ll have me, I suppose. If you will have me, that is.”

Gale looks relieved. “Oh, good! I was afraid you wouldn’t want to live with me anymore.”

“No, Gale! I was afraid for you, but Halsin helped me realize that disappearing without asking you wasn’t the solution. If you still want me, knowing everything that’s going on in my life, I still want you.”

“Yes, Astarion, I do want you. More than anything.”

Astarion smiles and pauses before responding. “I love you.”

Gale beams back at him. “I love you too.”

They return to the boba shop, Astarion trying yet another seasonal flavor: Grape Cheese Slush. Gale orders the same as last time, Oolong Milk tea with no boba and no sweetener. They take their orders to go, eager to get back home, having agreed upon Gale’s apartment being the one for the day.

Astarion takes a sip of his drink and stretches out on the passenger seat. “The first thing I want to do at home is take a proper shower with some actual conditioner.”

“Why not a bath?”

“Now that you mention it, a bath would be nicer. More luxurious, somehow.”

“I could wash your hair for you, if you’d have me. I can still remember how bad my hair was when I came home from the hospital. I had to enlist Shadowheart to help.”

“Mine shouldn’t be too bad. I tried to comb it whenever I could.”

“I can also leave you alone. It’s your choice.”

“No, darling. I’ll never say no to being pampered.”

Gale smiles, eager to help in any way he can.

Once they get home, he runs a hot bath for Astarion, the temperature verging on lava, just how he likes it. He adds a bath bomb scented with bergamot and rosemary, another of Astarion’s favorites. He also gets a tumbler of ice water for Astarion in case it gets too hot in the bath.

Astarion picks out a new set of clothes and looks at himself in the mirror in the hallway. He looks rough. His hair, albeit not entirely matted, is sticking in every direction, he has deep purple bags under his eyes, and his skin is sallow and dull.

He shrugs and heads towards the bathroom. “Well, I suppose there’s nowhere to go but up from here.”

Astarion absorbs every bit of pampering he can as Gale helps him into the bath. Gale rolls up his pant legs and sits down on the ledge of the tub behind him, beginning to massage his neck and shoulders.

“Good?”

“Mmm… That feels incredible, love.”

Gale hums in approval and plants a kiss in Astarion’s hair. “I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You don’t have to be. I understand why you did what you did.”

“Still, it wasn’t fair to you. I should have talked to you before doing anything rash.”

“And now you will. I told you in the hospital – I forgave you as soon as the doctors told me you’d make a full recovery.”

“Can I have that water now?”

“Of course.” Gale hands him the tumbler, purple with bat decals.

“My, my. You’re treating me today. First it was boba, then my favorite bath bomb, now my favorite water bottle.”

“Like I said, I know how rough it can be to come home from the hospital. I just want you to feel comfortable.”

“It all makes me feel cherished.”

“It’s supposed to.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Astarion dunks his head underwater, wetting his hair. Gale takes the hint and pumps a few dollops of shampoo into his palm. He massages it into Astarion’s scalp, making sure to work up an even lather, distributing it across his head down to his neck and ears.

“Mmm… You can spend some extra time on the ears if you’d like.”

Gale chuckles. “Let’s focus on getting your hair washed first, shall we?”

“Fine… Don’t forget the conditioner.”

“I won’t. Tilt your head into the water, please. I’ll rinse the shampoo out.”

Astarion does, Gale running his hands through his hair to rinse out all the shampoo. With that done, Gale takes a few dollops of conditioner into his hand, working it into Astarion’s hair. He starts from the tips and works his way up from there so as not to weigh the hair down.

“I hope this is the right way to do it. I’m trying to emulate what I’ve seen you do before.”

“It’s perfect. Do you remember the next step?”

“Brushing your hair while the conditioner is in it.”

“Exactly.”

Gale does just that, working the brush through the ends of Astarion’s hair. He makes sure to hold the root of the hair when he detangles, trying to make it as comfortable as possible. To Astarion’s credit, there isn’t much matting, so the process is quite quick.

“I think we’re all done. If you tilt your head into the water again, I can rinse out the conditioner as well.”

Astarion takes his time, wanting to stretch out the experience as much as possible. Soon, though, his hair is clean and washed out, so he can enjoy relaxing in the tub again. The water begins to cool, and goosebumps spread across his skin.

Gale quickly takes notice. “Do you want me to refill the tub with hot water?”

Astarion turns his head and looks at Gale through his eyelashes. “Only if you join me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.”

Gale shifts slowly from behind him, first moving to drain the water from the tub, then starting to refill it. As Astarion begins to shiver with the low water level, Gale disrobes and scoots into the tub behind him, his broad chest warming Astarion quickly.

“Sorry for the cold. The tub should fill in a few minutes.”

“Not a problem. I’ll just use you to warm up.” Gale’s resulting chuckle is cut off as Astarion wiggles himself closer to Gale, grinding his ass against him.

“Astari – what are you doing?”

Astarion’s voice drops to a more sultry note. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”

“Are – Are you sure this is what you want?”

Astarion turns to look at Gale, impatience in his gaze. “Gale, I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t exactly what I wanted. Please trust me when I say that I want this. I’ll tell you if I don’t.” He turns and returns to the same grind as before, relishing the feeling of Gale’s stiffening erection against him.

“And I think you rather like it, don’t you?”

Gale blushes before admitting what they both know to be true. “Mhm…”

“Good, because I’m not going to stop.”

Gale decides to play a game of his own, and once the water is covering their waistlines, he snakes a hand down to Astarion’s thigh. “May I?”

It’s Astarion’s turn to blush. “Please.”

Gale takes Astarion’s cock in hand, giving it a few experimental tugs. Listening carefully to Astarion’s breaths and moans, he finds a rhythm that seems to work, alternating between swiping his thumb around the top of the head and deeper strokes, all with an occasional flick of his wrist.

“That’s so good, Gale. Please – don’t stop!”

Gale obliges, bringing his other hand to fondle Astarion’s nipple and kissing the side of his neck.

“Wait! Stop!”

Gale lifts his hands from Astarion immediately, looking at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Astarion realizes his mistake and looks at Gale apologetically. “Sorry, darling. Nothing’s wrong, I just don’t want to come yet.”

“Oh, I thought I hurt you somehow.”

“No, not at all. I just have a vision in mind for how I want to come, and it’s not in the tub.”

“Hmm? What might that be?”

Astarion whispers into Gale’s ear. “With my cock buried inside of you, if you’re amenable to it.”

Gale’s reply is instant. “Gods, yes!” After a moment, he continues. “But I will need some preparation first, it’s been a while.”

Astarion’s tone is back in the sultry register that never fails to make Gale swoon. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be sure to make sure you’re properly prepared for me. Are you ready to head to bed with me?”

Gale nods, though he takes a moment to wash up in the bath after Astarion climbs out. Astarion is waiting for him, perched on the side of the bed.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Remember that we don’t have to do this, and we can stop if you don’t want it.”

“I know.”

“Good. Get on your back, please.”

 Gale lays down on the bed, about to part his legs for better access, when he feels Astarion’s cool hand on his thigh. “I said you’d be thoroughly prepared, darling. That means I’m going to take my time with you.”

Gale brings his legs and hands down, waiting to see what Astarion has planned. Astarion straddles Gale, bringing him into a passionate kiss. Astarion nips at the delicate skin of Gale’s throat and licks a path down Gale’s hairy chest to his nipples. Gale groans in delight, Astarion redoubling his efforts. He also grinds down on Gale’s cock beneath him, frotting them together the best he can.

“Gods, Astarion!”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes!”

“Good. Now, I said I wouldn’t go down on you. I think I can make an exception to rim you, but I want you on all fours.”

Gale nods rapidly, and he’s on his hands and knees as soon as Astarion climbs off of him.

“Good boy. Now, can you hold still for me?”

Gale blushes at the praise. “I’ll certainly try.”

Astarion nods and buries himself between Gale’s cheeks. He licks slow, broad strokes around Gale’s hole at first, enjoying how the man whimpers and squirms under his ministrations. Once Gale’s suitably on edge, desperately trying not to rock into Astarion’s face, he speeds up his tongue, kissing and sucking at Gale’s bud with a newfound ferocity.

“Gods, Astarion, please – I can’t hold back much longer!”

Astarion stops, smirking.

“I don’t think so. I haven’t even put my fingers inside you yet, let alone my cock. That is what you want, right?”

“Yes! Please –“

“Please, what?”

“I need you in me.”

“Are you ready for it?”

Gale nods. Astarion gets the bottle of lube from the nightstand, opening it with a sharp snick. Gale’s nearly trembling in anticipation as Astarion lubes up his fingers and brings them to rub around Gale’s rim.

“I’ll be gentle. Tell me if it hurts, and we’ll stop.”

“Thank you.”

Astarion puts more pressure on Gale’s rim with a single finger, which lets him in with some resistance and grips him like a vice. Mindful of Gale’s inexperience, Astarion stops, resting his finger in Gale for a minute to allow him to get used to the sensation.

“I’m ready. You can keep going.”

“Okay.”

Astarion pushes in deeper, pausing every inch or so to let Gale accommodate him. Once he’s seated deep in Gale, he begins to move. His pace is painfully slow, and Gale starts to rock back against his finger.

“Impatient, are we?”

“Please, Astarion. I can take more.”

“Alright. I’ll add another finger.”

Gale nods again as Astarion withdraws far enough to dip a second digit into him. The resultant groan from Gale goes straight to Astarion’s cock.

“Is that good, darling? You sound delicious.”

Gale moans again, rocking back on Astarion’s fingers. Astarion adjusts his angle, quickly finding the spot he’s looking for.

“Oh, fuck. Just like that, Astarion.”

Astarion keeps going, soon adding a third and final finger. Gale responds beautifully, a keening groan escaping his mouth. Astarion enters him faster, making sure to hit Gale’s prostate with every stroke. He continues for a few minutes until Gale is moaning incoherently, babbling something that sounds suspiciously like his name.

“I think you’re ready for me. What do you think?”

Gale’s voice whines in response. “Mmmmm”

Astarion withdraws his fingers and adds some lube to his dripping cock. “Turn over, darling. I want to see your face while I’m in you.”

Gale obliges, spreading his legs in anticipation. This time, Astarion lets him.

“I’ll go slow, and I want you to tell me when you’re ready for more. You riding me would probably be the better position for this, but I’m afraid I might panic.”

“’ll be… perfect.”

Astarion lines himself up with Gale and pushes himself in. He stops after the head, feeling Gale contract around him. He’d forgotten how incredible the feeling of being inside someone was, a few short trysts before Cazador being his only experience. The squeeze and warmth of it all are divine, but he pushes the feeling away, shifting his attention to Gale’s well-being.

“Alright, love?”

“I’m fine, but I could use a moment to adjust.”

“Take as long as you need, darling.”

Astarion strokes Gale’s cock languidly as he waits for the man to relax, hoping to make the other man feel as good as he does.

“Ah, gods… I’m ready for more.”

Astarion pushes in at a torturously slow pace, inching himself in and pausing whenever he feels Gale tense up. Gale encourages him forward when he’s ready, and before long, Astarion bottoms out.

“How does that feel, darling?”

“Tight, but good. It’d feel even better if you started moving, though.”

Astarion smiles and obliges, thrusting slowly at first, then faster when he finds the angle that hits Gale’s prostate straight-on. He keeps stroking Gale throughout, matching the pace of his strokes with his thrusts into Gale. The man moans loudly beneath him, back to the incoherent mumbling he was doing while Astarion’s fingers were in him.

“Mmmm – Gods almighty – Star!”

Gale’s vocalizations only serve to intensify the coil tightening up inside Astarion, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He’s not going to last long at this rate, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make Gale come first.

Astarion bends over and whispers into Gale’s ear like he’s letting him in on a secret. “You’re gorgeous like this, moaning my name and taking my cock. You were made for this.”

Gale responds just like Astarion thought he would, blushing and moaning incoherently. “Ahhhh –”

“There you go, darling. You’re being so good for me. You take me so well, taking my cock over and over again while I get you off.”

Gale is whimpering, eyes squeezed tightly shut, but Astarion can tell he’s getting close from the clenching of his abs.

“Do you want to come for me, darling?”

“Yes – Gods, yes – ”

“That’s it. Come for me, love. I’ve got you.”

With a final groan, Gale’s back arches off the bed, and he explodes all over his chest and belly. Astarion’s not far behind, having held himself back as long as he could. He rides Gale through his orgasm, feeling his muscles clench all around him.

“Where do you want me to come, Gale?”

“Inside me – Please!”

With a few more deep thrusts, Astarion comes with a cry of Gale’s name, releasing himself into the other man. The sensation is euphoric – another of those he’s forgotten in the long years with Cazador.

He pulls out, lying on Gale’s chest. Gale pulls him into a soft embrace.

“Gods, Gale! I didn’t remember that sex could feel like this”, Astarion pants.

Gale chuckles and kisses the top of Astarion’s head. “I didn’t either.”

After a few minutes, Gale’s cum starts to dry between them, forming a sticky, tacky mess.

Astarion disengages, both of them grimacing in unison.

Gale looks down at the mess on his chest. “Should we go take a shower?”

“Or another bath? I could wash your hair, this time.”

“That sounds nice.”

Astarion helps Gale stand up and follows him to the bathroom, where he wets a washcloth, wipes them down, and starts another bath.

Chapter Text

A few weeks after he’s released from the hospital for the second time, Astarion gets the letter he’s been dreading. It’s from the Baldur’s Gate District Court, informing him of the date of Godey’s upcoming trial for violating the terms of the restraining order. The trial is scheduled for a month from now, and thankfully, neither Astarion nor Gale are named as witnesses. He’s been getting updates from his lawyer, Amrik, but thankfully hasn’t had to do much himself.

Apparently, despite all the times they’ve failed him before, the Baldur’s Gate Police Department has a surprisingly robust system for handling restraining order violations. Thank the gods for Sybil and her hundred cameras. Astarion will never complain about her stalking them again.

Gale must’ve found out about the trial date while at work, because he comes home carrying boba tea and Calishite takeout.

“Hello, love. I thought I’d bring home some tea and dinner. I got you the special again, since they seem to have changed it since last time. This one’s pomegranate with red bean jelly. I figured pomegranate would pair nicely with some Calishite food, so I picked up grilled chicken and Quzi, with a side of hummus, tabbouleh, and pita. They also gave me some Muhallebi, I thought that might be a nice treat -”

Astarion cuts him off gently. “Gale.”

Gale pauses, reluctant to meet his eyes. “Yes?”

“You’re stalling.”

“I suppose I am. Did you get a letter from the district court today?”

“I did. The trial’s in a month.”

“How are you feeling about it?”

“Scared, I suppose. I’m afraid he’s going to walk again, or that he’ll retaliate.”

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t. He’s certainly the type to try something.”

“And even if he’s convicted, it’s only a one-year sentence. He won’t be gone for long.”

“You’re right. Has Amrik made any progress on getting him locked up for good?”

“Not much. He’s working on an appeal, but the process could take years. He said the only way to speed it up is if new evidence turns up.”

“The man must have a dozen skeletons in his closet. It’s a miracle he’s gotten away with so much already.”

“He rarely does his own dirty work. And when he does, he makes sure he has dirt on his accomplices to keep them silent.”

“Just like he did with you.”

“Yes.”

The conversation fades. Gale sets out their takeout and hands Astarion his boba before sipping his own.

“I’m glad to see you branching out. Is that matcha this time?”

“Yes. Still no boba and no sugar, but at least the tea’s different.”

“This shop never disappoints. And you’re right - it pairs perfectly with the food.”

They finish dinner and store the leftovers in the fridge.

At the fridge, Gale turns to Astarion. “Do you want to hang out, or would you rather be alone?”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course, love. Come to bed with me?”

Astarion follows Gale to the bedroom and hops onto the bed, pulling Gale close to spoon him. Gale’s warm arms wrap around him, and Astarion finally relaxes into the safe, lavender-scented embrace of the kindest man he’s ever known.

Gale feels the tension gradually leave Astarion’s body. He breathes steadily, despite the storm of worry inside him - for Astarion’s safety, his mental health, and the trauma that resurfaces every time Godey reenters their lives. If Gale could take away even a fraction of that pain, he would, without hesitation.

But for now, all he can do is hold him.

A few mornings after the court letter arrives, Astarion nearly chokes on his breakfast. He almost misses the article, buried at the bottom of the second-to-last page of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette.

Upper City Resident Found Deceased in Apparent Accidental Overdose
By Issa Tenrec | Baldur’s Mouth Gazette | 6 Eleint 2024

BALDUR’S GATE – Aurelia Carras, 35, wife of noted defense attorney Godey Carras, was found deceased in her Upper City home late Eleint 5, according to a statement issued by the BGPD.

Authorities responded to a call from the Carras residence just before midnight. Emergency services arrived shortly after, but Mrs. Carras was pronounced dead at the scene.

While the official cause of death is pending autopsy results, a BGPD representative stated, “Preliminary evidence suggests a possible accidental overdose. At this stage, we do not suspect foul play.”

Known for her quiet presence and dedication to charitable initiatives, Mrs. Carras was largely a private figure, seldom seen in public in recent years. Her husband was convicted and subsequently acquitted of rape and assault charges earlier this year.

The Carras family has requested discretion and privacy as they grieve. A small, invitation-only memorial is scheduled later this week.

No further details have been released. The investigation is ongoing, as per standard procedure.

Astarion remembers Aurelia. She was there during their visits to Godey’s house, and occasionally at gatherings with Cazador’s other friends. A mousy tiefling woman, clearly terrified of Godey. No doubt she was just as deeply trapped under his thumb as Astarion had once been under Cazador’s.

The timing of her “accidental overdose” is suspect at best. And with Godey, accidents are rarely accidents. Unfortunately, the BGPD is back to doing what it does best: fuck all.

Gale’s still at the farmer’s market, so all Astarion can do is wait and try not to spiral.

When Gale finally walks in carrying three bags of groceries, Astarion practically tackles him, tears already streaming.

Gale drops the bags and catches him, kicking the door shut behind them. “Love? What’s wrong?”

Astarion can’t speak - the lump in his throat is choking him. Gale simply holds him, steady and warm, whispering soft reassurances.

“I’m here, Astarion. You’re safe with me, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

It takes a long time for Astarion to calm down enough to pull away. He winces when he sees how soaked Gale’s shirt is.

“Sorry about that, darling.”

“Don’t be. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Astarion shakes his head but hands Gale the paper, pointing to the article.

Gale scans it, frowning. “This wasn’t an accident.”

Astarion silently nods.

“Should you tell Amrik? Just in case?”

“Yes.”

“After that, we’re staying home for the day. I want you planted on the couch binge-watching something terrible while I make brunch. I was thinking smoked salmon Eggs Benedict with blueberry-thyme waffles. Sound good?”

“Can you make me a latte to go with it?”

“Of course. That’s why we got the machine.”

“Caramel-vanilla this time. I want two tablespoons of caramel, one of vanilla.”

“I still don’t understand how you drink something that sweet, but I’ll have it ready in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

Brunch is made and devoured. They spend the rest of the day on the couch. For dinner, Gale makes miso-glazed eggplant in a kombu-chili broth so good that they both go back for seconds.

It’s a good day, but sleep refuses to come.

Astarion tosses and turns for what feels like an hour, eventually waking Gale.

“You alright?”

“No. I can’t sleep.”

“How can I help?”

“…Will you read to me?”

“Of course. Fiction or non-fiction?”

“Something boring. Non-fiction.”

“I think I’ve got just the thing. How does The Journal of Quantum Cryptography sound?”

“Boring as the Hells.”

“Thankfully not to me.”

Astarion falls asleep halfway through the first article. Gale keeps reading, just in case.

The next morning, Astarion wakes to a text from an unknown number:

We need to talk. It’s about Aurelia. Meet me at Old Garlow’s in the Dock Ward tomorrow at 6 pm. Keep quiet about this. – D

“Who in the Hells is ‘D’?” he mutters.

Gale clears his throat, concern in his eyes. “Everything alright?”

“I just got a message from someone asking to meet tomorrow. They said it’s about Aurelia - Godey’s wife. They signed it ‘D,’ but I don’t know who that is.”

“Are you going to go?”

“I think I should. Anything about Aurelia might help take Godey down.”

“Don’t you think it could be dangerous?”

“It probably is. But if it gets me closer to putting him behind bars for good, it’s worth it.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“They said to keep quiet, so I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be there. But... I wouldn’t mind you being nearby.”

“There’s a tea shop near Old Garlow’s. Used to be Auntie Ethel’s, but it’s under new ownership now.”

“Mayrina’s Teahouse?”

“That’s the one. I think it’s open late. I can wait for you there.”

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Astarion is early to Old Garlow’s, so he orders a lemon seltzer and picks a seat near the back entrance, just in case. Five minutes to six, a hand grabs his shoulder from behind and pulls him out of his seat.

“In here,” a voice says.

He’s guided into a dimly lit side room, where he takes in the faces around him. Recognition flickers: he’s seen them before, though their names escape him. They’ve been around Cazador’s friends.

“You were the last one,” the woman says, “but I had to check you weren’t being followed. I’m Dalyria, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Ah, the ‘D’ from the message,” Astarion replies.

“Yes. I wanted to get all of us together, but Violet and Yousen couldn’t get away. These are Petras and Leon.”

“I recognize you,” Astarion says. “You’re… with Cazador’s friends.”

Dalyria spits the words out. “Their pets, more like.”

“Like I was with Cazador?”

“Sort of. Not all of us screamed as sweetly as you did, and not all of us were used for… pleasures of the flesh. But all of us were used for something.”

“And you?”

“I was Dr. Lund’s pet. You know, the big guy with the silver hair, always near Cazador when someone got hurt? I was a medical student, and he was my mentor. He roped me into working at his ‘private clinic’ right out of med school, treating things off the books. I don’t know how much you remember, but I treated you a couple of times. Stitching up some wounds on your back, stuff like that.”

“I remember,” Astarion says. “I just thought you were there voluntarily.”

“I wasn’t. He threatened my license, threatened to tell my family everything.”

“Then why are you here now, organizing against him?”

“He’s been disbarred, and there’s an arrest warrant out for him. When the order came in, he took the first plane to Yggdrasil. I haven’t heard from him since, and I doubt he’s coming back.”

“What about you, Leon?”

“Mine is Nerion,” Leon says, “the silver dragonborn built like a brick shithouse. I went to work for his private security company when I left the Flaming Fists. I should’ve known better when he took my documents on my first day, for "safekeeping". We used some truly heinous tactics against our marks, and eventually, he turned them on me. Starvation, sleep deprivation, torture - the works.”

“How are you here, then?”

“Nerion is in Amn, negotiating a new contract. I have a few days off while he’s out. Then I’m back to being a loyal foot soldier.”

“Petras?” Astarion asks.

“Fen is mine,” Petras says. “He’s the human with the greasy blonde hair. Thank gods he’s in Elturel right now, finally I have some time to breathe. He owns some nightclubs, so when he hired me to be a DJ, I accepted. DJ turned to dancer, dancer turned to stripper, that sort of thing. Cazador had his fair share of dances from me, too. Violet and I are probably the closest to you in what they made us do.”

“Violet… She’s the influencer?”

“Well,” Petras says, “more like the bait her influencer boyfriend uses to curry favor with people. She has her socials, but she’s mostly riding off of Ravon’s fame.”

“Let me guess: if you help Ravon out, you can sleep with Violet?”

“Yep.”

“And Yousen? He’s the art project?”

“For lack of a better term, yes,” Petras says. “Vellow’s got him wrapped around his finger. He’s supposedly a muse, but really, he’s just there to do whatever serves the art. I hear that for one project, they surgically implanted fiber optic cables into his head. Something about glowing worms?”

“There was another project,” Dalyria adds, “where he debauches himself on an altar of Sune. It’s… grim.”

“Great. And Aurelia was Godey’s pet.”

“She was,” Dalyria says. “The obedient housewife. Treated her a couple of times, too. Godey had one hell of a temper, beat her to a pulp whenever she pissed him off.”

“I take it she did that a lot?”

“Oh, yes,” Dalyria says. “I was out there more than with the rest of you combined.”

“And this drug overdose?”

“Not a chance it was accidental,” Dalyria says. “He must’ve slipped her something.”

“And she couldn’t have been trying to kill herself?”

“I doubt it,” Dalyria replies. “She was just about to get another year of freedom from him, what with Astarion’s trial.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Let’s just say I keep on top of these things. And Aurelia did, too. She still had hope for peace, even after all these years.”

“Well then,” Astarion says, “what do you want us to do?”

“We need to find something on Godey - or one of the other six - that can tie them to serious wrongdoing. If we get one on something, we can hope they’ll find something on the others, too.”

A silence passes as they all consider the magnitude of what's ahead.

Astarion has an idea, but he’s not yet sure whether to trust the others. One, or even all of them, could be in Godey’s pocket. Then again, Godey already knows where he and Gale live - if he wanted to have Astarion, he could have done it already. And Astarion’s already taken the biggest risk by coming here. What’s the harm in a little more?

“I think going through Cazador’s estate could help,” Astarion says. “He’s got a lot of books and records that might give us clues. It’s all in my name, and I’ve been meaning to deal with it, but I haven’t had the spoons.”

Dalyria looks pleasantly surprised. “That sounds like the best lead we’ve got.”

“We can go there anytime, it’s not like he’s there to patrol it. I still carry the keys with me. It's a force of habit, I guess.”

“Good. Can we go tonight while all of us are free?”

“We can,” Astarion says, “but I want to bring someone. He already knows about Cazador and Godey.”

“Can we trust him?” Dalyria asks.

“I’d trust him with my life.”

“I’d prefer we didn’t involve anyone else, but I think it’s still the best shot we have,” Dalyria concedes. “He can come.”

“Great. We can get him from Mayrina’s next door when we leave.”

Dalyria smirks. “Of course, you brought him with you.”

“I had no way of knowing if this was another one of Godey’s stunts,” Astarion explains. “I wanted someone close who could help.”

“Fair point. Can we leave now?”

“Yes.”

They pick up Gale, explain the plan, and drive over to Cazador’s mansion in the Upper City. Once inside, everything is exactly as Astarion remembers, just with a thicker coat of dust.

“His study is upstairs to the left,” Astarion says. “I’d start there. I don’t know his laptop password, though, and that’s probably where he stored most of it.”

“I think I might be of help,” Gale says.

“How didn’t I think of that sooner?” Astarion says. “I should have asked my cryptographer boyfriend for help all along.”

“Give me the laptop and the charger, and I’ll get right to it,” Gale says.

Astarion does as Gale asks, setting him up at the dinner table. Meanwhile, the rest search the office - desk, filing cabinets, and bookcase. They find a calendar of Cazador’s visits with friends and a camera with a few risqué images of Astarion.

Dalyria points out that the photos could easily be explained as consensual between husbands, and thus nothing of interest to the police. Astarion remembers when they were taken, and they certainly weren't with his permission, but he concedes the point. They move to the bedroom, where most of Astarion’s torments took place. He stays outside.

Petras’ voice calls from within. “Found something! It was under a loose floorboard.”

He emerges with an ornate gilded box. Inside is Cazador’s “needle”. It's the thin dagger that put every scar on Astarion’s back. He recoils. Gale wraps an arm around him.

“He… called it his needle,” Astarion says.

Dalyria peers in. “You know this thing?”

“It’s been in my back more times than I can count.”

“Ah, so that’s what I’ve been patching up all these years.”

“Yes.”

“Can we use this as evidence of wrongdoing?”

“I don’t know,” Astarion says. “We can send it to Amrik, my lawyer, but I’m not sure it’s wise to dig up anything else on Cazador, considering he’s in the grave. I still think something implicating someone alive is better. How’s it going with the laptop, Gale?”

“I have a decryption algorithm running, but it might take another hour or two,” Gale replies.

“Thank you. In the meantime, I suggest you check the basement. I wasn’t allowed down there without him, so it might have something interesting. The door’s locked, though.”

Leon walks over and kicks it in. “That should work.”

Astarion smiles wearily. “I’ll stay up here with Gale, if you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely,” Leon says.

The group barely makes it into the basement before calling out. “Hey… I think you should see this!”

Astarion takes Gale’s hand and follows.

The walls are lined with photos of Cazador and his friends with their marks - some sexual, some involving people far too young to consent.

A picture near the ceiling catches Astarion’s eye. “Wait a minute - isn’t that Madeleine McAuley? In this one with all of them?”

Dalyria looks. “Gods, I think it is.”

Madeleine went missing years ago at age ten. In the photo, she’s naked, restrained, with six of the seven men. Cazador is missing, likely taking the photo. Other images show other missing persons with all or some of the men.

Gale rushes upstairs to vomit.

“Nobody touch anything,” Dalyria says. “We need to report this to the police.”

Astarion starts to protest, but she cuts him off. “Astarion, nobody cares how Cazador died. If we don’t report this, they’ll keep hurting people. Other Madeleines.”

“How did you know?” he asks.

“It’s not exactly hard to put together. Remember, you don’t have to talk to anyone, Astarion.”

She continues, “We’re all going to back out and call the police. Anyone who doesn’t want to be here doesn’t have to be. I’m looking at you, Leon and Petras - you’ve got the most to lose.”

“Yep, we need to go,” Leon says.

“Thank you, and good luck,” Dalyria replies.

Petras and Leon leave, disappearing into the night like they were never there. Dalyria picks up her phone while Astarion holds Gale’s hand.

Before she can dial, Gale interjects. “Astarion - you need to call Amrik and Wyll before the cops get here.”

“You're right. I do, don’t I?”

“Can you hold off on the call while we do that, Dalyria?”

“Yes,” she says.

Astarion calls Amrik and Wyll. Amrik is in Waterdeep, but Wyll promises to come as soon as he can. Fifteen minutes later, there’s a bang on the door.

“Astarion? Gale? If you don’t open this door in ten seconds, I’m kicking it down!”

“Karlach? Calm down, we’re coming!”

They open the door. Karlach scoops them into a hug. “Thank gods you’re alright! Are the police here yet?”

“No, we haven’t called them yet,” Astarion says. “Dalyria, can you do it?”

“I’m already dialling,” she says.

Astarion introduces them. “Dalyria, this is Karlach and Wyll. Wyll is a lawyer.”

“Nice to meet you,” Karlach says. “Do you mind if we take a look before the police get here?”

“Not at all, but don’t touch anything.”

They return from the basement looking green.

“Gods, Astarion,” Karlach says. “I didn’t know what it was like for you.”

“I think I saw a couple of pictures of you down there,” Wyll adds.

Astarion shakes his head. “I really don’t want to know.”

“That’s fair,” Wyll says. “This should thankfully be enough to secure prosecutions for all of them.”

They wait for the police upstairs, a solemn silence washing over them.

After the BGPD arrives, it’s a madhouse. Officers and techs scrub over every inch of the place, the basement, living room, and upper floor alike. Dalyria hands them the box with the needle. “We found this in the bedroom earlier under a floorboard.”

Surprisingly, the police let them be for the time being. They seem to accept Wyll’s explanation that Astarion was coming to assess his late husband’s estate with some friends, calling the police when they found more than they bargained for. Some of the police coming from the basement seem to have the same reaction as the rest of them. One of them runs outside to vomit, another one holds back his gags as he returns up the stairs.

They sit at the table, waiting for the police to finish their work, bagging up anything that could be classed as evidence. Just as an officer is coming to confiscate the laptop in front of Gale, it opens to an email. The email has been sent to all of the other 6 men and contains an attachment titled “Ascendance”. The title is simply “Memories”, and the email body reads: “So as not to forget our hard work.” The file contains several sets of coordinates. 

“Officer, I think you may want to take a look at this,” Gale says.

“That’s curious,” the officer replies. “Thank you. We’ll look into that.”

Chapter Text

With a little pressure from Amrik, the BGPD does, in fact, look into the coordinates. They find the remains of 17 separate victims, including Madeleine McAuley’s. They also conduct raids on each of the other men’s homes immediately after Cazador’s, finding some incriminating evidence linking each of the others to the crimes. Godey, in particular, seemed to have a penchant for keeping trophies of each of his victims. They find Madeleine McAuley’s backpack in a chest in his garage, along with items from some of the other victims.

Godey, Nerion, Revon, Fen, and Vellow are swiftly arrested on murder, kidnapping, rape, and assault charges. The charges are added to Dr. Lund’s record, as well. If he ever comes back from Yggdrasil, he’ll be in jail for the rest of his life. If Cazador were alive, he’d have the same fate. Dalyria is right. Nobody seems to give a damn about how Cazador died, only about the monster he’d been while he was alive.

The questions that the police have for Astarion seem to be limited to showing him the pictures of him from the basement and asking if the interactions in which they were taken were consensual. They were not, and he tells them as much.

The pictures themselves are horrific, mostly nude pictures in varying states of restraint and consciousness. There are even a few of Cazador posing next to him, seemingly having just finished using the Needle on him, judging by the blood. Astarion has forgotten most of it, so seeing the pictures again shocks him that much more.

After the first time the police question him, Astarion very nearly falls into another tailspin. Gale finds Astarion at his apartment again, curled up in the bottom of his closet, lamenting the fact that they threw out all the alcohol after his last… incident.

Astarion’s blubbering is enough to make him completely unintelligible, so Gale can only hold him on the floor as he cries out his despair at what he’s seen and remembered. After he’s steady enough to hold his own for a few minutes, Gale pulls out his phone and dials a familiar number.

“Hi, Dr. Silverbough, it’s Gale Dekarios. Do you have time for a session with Astarion today? It’s an emergency. He talked to the police today about some pictures from Cazador’s house, and he’s not doing well.”

Astarion can’t tell what the reply is, but Gale very quickly bundles him up in a fuzzy blanket and walks him to the car. Gale drives them to Open Hands and walks him to Halsin’s door, where the burly psychiatrist is waiting with open arms.

Halsin helps him sit down, then settles down in the armchair across from him.

“How are you feeling, Astarion?”’

Astarion shakes his head.

“Gale told me he found you at your apartment, seeming upset. And that it was after you talked to the police about the pictures they found in Cazador’s basement. Is that correct?”

Astarion nods.

“Were the pictures of you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about them?”

Astarion does.

He tells Halsin about the memories that emerged as he saw himself in those pictures, remembering the helplessness, the panic, and the various forms of torture that the pictures preceded. Halsin listens patiently, as he always has, nodding along as Astarion recounts it. Astarion talks and talks, letting all the purulent, festering memories leave him as he commits them into Halsin’s care.

Once he’s done, Halsin takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Astarion. What you described is torture; there’s nothing else to say. I’m sorry you had to relive those memories today.”

“I just wish it would end, you know? Cazador’s dead, but I still can’t live in peace.”

“I understand, and I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

Halsin adjusts his medications further, adding another antidepressant and anti-anxiety medication to help while the memories are still raw. He also books Astarion for more frequent one-to-one sessions for the time being, in case any new memories arise.

Gale is waiting for him outside when his session ends.

“Ready to go home?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to order delivery?”

“Yeah. Some of those over-the-top donuts from the mall could be nice. Maybe a milkshake to go with them.”

“We can check the menu at home. We’ll order whatever you want.”

The media outrage is enormous – such powerful men convicted of serious crimes throws the whole of Faerun into a whirlwind. Some of the photos are leaked, protests erupt outside of Szarr Palace, and each of the ‘pets’, as they call themselves, is hounded by reporters hoping for a scoop on what it was like to live with ‘the Sinister Seven’. Astarion has to change his phone number three times in the first fortnight, with Gale doing most of the heavy lifting to fend off reporters from finding out where they live.

They cancel their newspaper subscriptions and delete the news apps from their phones, trying to give Astarion a modicum of peace. They establish a routine with Morena while Gale is at work – she comes to pick him up when Gale leaves, either taking him to her place or keeping him company at Gale’s. If he weren’t feeling so consumed by his thoughts, he’d probably think it was overbearing. As it stands, he appreciates the company.

After another morning at Morena’s, she sets out tea and biscuits as he shuffles cards for an afternoon game of three-dragon ante. Tara sits in his lap, purring as she kneads biscuits into his flowy silk pants.

“You know, she always was a good judge of character.”

“Tara?”

“Yes. She never liked Mystra, hissed at her whenever she came near.”

“Well, clearly she hasn’t picked up on how fucked up I am. Gods know there are more than enough skeletons in my closet.”

“Skeletons in your closet are not a defect of character, Astarion. You didn’t ask for what happened to you. You’re a wonderful man.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“Astarion. You know you are. I wouldn’t let you near Gale if you weren’t, and I certainly wouldn’t be picking you up to play three-dragon-ante with you if I didn’t love you like a second son.”

Her words bring tears to Astarion’s eyes. He puts down the deck of cards, burying his face in his hands. Morena walks around the table and wraps him in a hug. “I meant what I said, Astarion. You’ll always matter to me, no matter what.”

Tara stands up to join the snuggle, nuzzling her face into Morena’s hands and Astarion’s chest. Astarion parts his hands to kiss her precious little head, Tara letting out a little mrow in response. Astarion giggles softly, wiping some tears from his eyes.

“Like I said, she’s an excellent judge of character.”

Chapter Text

Gale packs up his work bag to leave the office and head to Morena’s. As he steps into the lobby, a familiar voice stops him in his tracks.

“Gale, baby! I’m so glad I found you here!”

It takes all he has not to flee back into the offices where Zanner and the others are. “Mystra.”

“I’ve tried to call and text you, but you never answered.”

Gale takes a deep breath, raising his voice slightly. “What do you want, Mystra?”

“I want to make sure you’re okay. I haven’t heard from you, and I’ve been worried.”

“I’m fine, as you can see. Please leave.”

A flash of confusion crosses Mystra’s face. “Why are you being so cold to me?”

Gale stares at her, aghast at her ignorance. When he doesn’t reply, her voice rises to a shriek. “Aren’t you going to ask about my mother? The dying woman you abandoned?! You’re a heartless bastard, Gale - do you know that?!”

Zanner pokes his head out from the corridor of offices. “Gale! Are you alright? I’ve called security. They’re on their way.”

Mystra's expression morphs into one of fury. “Called security? On me? Do you know who I am?!”

“Yes, Ms. Weavings, I do.”

“Who even are you? Some freak with no eyes?”

Zanner, all too used to this kind of insult, merely shrugs. 

Another head appears above Zanner's. It's Santoria, phone in hand. “I don’t think building security’s going to cut it. The police are on their way, too.”

Mystra continues her tantrum, hurling insults and obscenities at Gale and the others. She's gearing to throw her purse at Gale when security finally arrives. Two burly guards rush to take her by the arms and escort her outside to wait for the police. She keeps shrieking as they go.

“You're all complicit in Gale's cruelty, you know! He hurts everyone around him, no matter what he wants you to believe! Just wait until he breaks your hearts! I told him he was better off dead, but he didn't listen. He never does!”

When she’s gone, Gale’s knees give out, and he collapses to the floor. Santoria and Zanner rush to him, steadying him at the shoulders.

“I’m so sorry you had to hear that,” Gale gasps, on the cusp of tears.

Zanner squeezes his hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, Gale.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t want to drag my personal issues into work.”

“You’re not. You didn’t ask her to come here.”

Santoria sighs. “She really said some heinous stuff about you, Gale. I hope you know nobody believes it.”

Gale's posture sinks. “Thanks, Santoria, but some of it’s true.”

“I don’t think it is.”

Gale sighs. “Well, we can agree to disagree on that, I guess.”

Santoria is firm in her retort. “No, we won’t. You’re not like what she made you out to be - no matter what she says. And honestly, her storming into your office to yell at you tells me everything I need to know about her, and nothing about you.”

Zanner nods in agreement. “I think it’s time for you to go home, Gale.”

“I agree.”

Santoria helps him up and steadies him on his feet. “I can walk you to your car. Though the police should be there by now.”

“Thanks.”

Santoria walks him to his car, past two police cruisers parked outside. Through the back window of one, they see Mystra still yelling and gesticulating, though the cruiser seems soundproofed. Santoria waits until Gale drives out of the lot, waving until he’s out of sight.

Gale drives home, but once he’s in Morena’s driveway, he falls apart again. His hands shake, and tears spill freely down his face. Even after all this time, Mystra still has power over him. He hadn’t expected her to show up at his workplace, much less insult Zanner.

She hadn’t always been this way. At first, she was kind to Gale and everyone else. He’d thought she was normal, if a little strong-willed. She’d been his TA in his very first college math class. His major was computer science, but at her urging, he added a minor in applied mathematics.

He helped her as much as he could while she worked toward her doctorate, but over time, her kindness soured. Gale bore the brunt of it, Mystra not having any family or friends to abuse. She resented him for not pursuing mathematics further, for choosing industry over academia. They dated for a decade, and with each passing year, Gale shrank deeper into himself.

She never hesitated to tell him what she thought, always insisting she was only being “honest,” only saying what no one else would. Yet she never missed a chance to list the ways he wasn’t good enough, or how his personality was flawed. It was no wonder, in hindsight, that he ended up in a psych ward with his wrists slit.

And yet, without that pain, he never would have met Astarion.

A knock on the car window pulls him from his thoughts. Astarion stands outside, eyes red as though he’s been crying.

Gale opens the door.

“Gale, darling. Everything okay?”

Gale wipes at his own tears, quickly turning to Astarion. “Don't worry about me. You’ve been crying.”

“Happy tears, love. I daresay yours aren’t. Tell me about them?”

“Mystra stopped by the office.”

“Oh, Gale…”

“She left in a police car.”

“I’m so sorry, darling.”

“It just reminded me of everything that's happened with her. That’s what I was crying about.”

Astarion pulls him into a hug. “I’m so sorry all of that happened to you. I love you.”

Gale clings to him like he’s drowning. “I love you too. I’m sorry to be selfish like this and make my problems yours.”

“Nonsense, Gale. We’re partners. We support each other through this stuff. You’ve helped me more times than I can count - you picked me up from the psych ward two weeks ago, for crying out loud!”

Gale starts to speak, but Astarion cuts him off. “And I know what you’re about to say - that it’s different, that your situation isn’t as bad as mine. It’s not true, so don’t try it with me.”

Gale lowers his head.

“No need to be ashamed, darling. But you do need to let me be here for you.”

Gale hums in assent.

“Now, what do you say we go inside? Your mum made some biscuits earlier. They’re wonderful with tea.”

Another nod. “Will you tell her what happened? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Absolutely. I’ll go in, tell her, and then come to get you. Sound good?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Chapter Text

When he first brings Gale his morning coffee, Astarion can already tell it’s going to be a rough day. In fact, he knows it simply because it’s him bringing Gale his coffee at all.

“How are you doing, darling?” Astarion asks, setting the mug down.

“I’m… not sure,” Gale admits.

“Are you still thinking about yesterday?”

“I think so.”

“Well, it was your first day back to the office after what happened with Mystra. It’s completely understandable.”

“Everyone was really nice to me, but her being there just brought up old memories. From when we were together.”

Astarion nods, waiting.

“There’s one in particular that keeps replaying,” Gale continues. “It was when I was in undergrad. She had a paper due for her PhD, and she needed my help to finish it. I was helping her with the programming for her paper’s visualizations, but it’s like I could never get them right. She would yell at me every time I finished a new version. Something was always wrong with them – colors, formatting – it didn’t matter. It was relentless. She needed 27 visuals - it took me the better part of a week to get them done, and hours of being yelled at.”

“And she never stopped?” Astarion asks.

“No.” Gale shakes his head. “And the memory just won’t stop replaying. How stupid I felt, how incompetent, how inadequate as a boyfriend.”

“You’re none of those things – you know that.”

“I know, but I just can’t stop hearing her voice in my head.”

“I’ve been there,” Astarion says softly. “Halsin told me these kinds of memories replay as long as there’s something left to process.”

“I don’t know what could be left to process. It’s been replaying since I saw her at the office.”

“It can take time. One of mine took two weeks to fade – and then it came back a week later.”

“As much as this sounds awful to say,” Gale murmurs, “I’m glad you understand.”

“I feel the same way.”

“I mean, I’d love for both of us to not have any trauma, but at least we’re on the same page.”

Astarion pulls him into a hug and presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

“You know what might be good for you, darling?”

“What?”

“A walk.”

“I suppose they don’t call it touching grass for nothing.”

Astarion nods. “Walk with me to Rivington?”

Gale nods.

They head towards Rivington Beach, enjoying the peace of nature around them. They listen to the waves lapping the shoreline, watching the mallards and swans paddle around in the Chionthar.

Astarion leads them to an ice cream stall that’s been all over FaeTok, Cones of Cold.

Gale finally perks up, having been silent most of the walk, Astarion sighing in relief. “Oh, I’ve heard of this place! The ice cream is supposedly supercooled during the manufacturing process, leading to better aeration and a fluffier texture. I wonder whether that’ll actually translate to the experience of eating it, or if it’s just marketing. Their flavor combinations are quite unique as well.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we? It looks like there’s a bit of a wait, but I’m happy to wait if you are?”

“We have nothing but time, Astarion.”

“Which flavor do you want?”

“I’m weighing between Sune’s Strawberry Flame and Beshaba’s Bitterbite.”

“Always the culinarist, my Gale. You never pick the simple ones.”

“I have to say I’m curious about how the pink peppercorn flake interacts with the Strawberry, and about how the Blackberry-Balsamic combination works as an ice cream.”

“I’m also at a tie, but mine is between Lliira’s Cherry Jubilee and Selûne’s Mooncream. Both are fruity, I’m just trying to decide between something completely over-the-top or something more subtle.”

“I think I know what would suit you better, Astarion.”

“It’s the flamboyant one, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

Astarion laughs. “Then you should get the Strawberry Flame. Sweet, just like you.”

“Thank you. I think I will.”

The dwarf running the stall takes their order, doling up double-scooped cones of each of their ice creams. He also adds a sprinkle of pink peppercorn to Gale’s ice cream and extra popping candy to Astarion’s cone.

 Gale tries a lick of his ice cream. “This is incredible! I love the pink peppercorn; it adds just the right amount of pop to the ice cream. What about yours?”

Instead of answering, Astarion sticks his tongue out so Gale can hear the candy fizzing. “Delicious, just like I thought. The popping is perfect.” Gale can’t help himself, he ducks to lick some of the candy off of Astarion’s tongue. Astarion just laughs, taking another lick of his ice cream.

They walk along the shoreline with their ice creams, waving off seagulls and discussing plans for lunch.

“There’s a diner in Rivington I’ve been hearing about – The Goodberry,” Gale says. “Zanner recommended it. He swore by the chicken pot pie, and apparently, their tea selection is exceptional.”

“Sounds perfect, darling.”

The Goodberry turns out to be a peach-colored building draped in ivy. Inside, a young halfling woman shows them to a window table. The decor reminds Astarion of a grandmother’s house, all lace doilies and floral prints. The scent of tea hangs in the air, giving the whole room a perfume-like quality.

They order: the chicken pot pie for Gale, four-cheese mac ’n’ cheese for Astarion. Both are delicious, and they end up sharing forkfuls across the table. At Astarion’s insistence, they add dessert: peach Goodberry pie for him, bourbon pecan for Gale. He pairs his with a Ceylon tea; Astarion chooses vanilla-blueberry. “I’m so glad you suggested this, Gale. This is the best diner food I’ve ever had.”

“I concur.”

Gale and Astarion buy some loose-leaf tea to take home to Morena, as well as a few slices of pie to take home. The walk back feels shorter, their conversation easy and light. Gale seems more like himself, and Astarion finally allows himself to breathe.

“How are you feeling, my sweet?”

“Better,” Gale says with a small smile. “I’ve had a wonderful day.”

When they reach Gale’s apartment building, their conversation is interrupted by a tall human. He’s got white hair and a short white beard, even though he’s only middle-aged. Apparently, Gale knows him.

“Elminster! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Gale, my boy! Long time, no see.”

“Astarion – this is Elminster. Elminster – this is Astarion.”

“Charmed to meet you. How do you know Gale?”

“We were friends back in university. I met him through Mystra, actually.”

Astarion cringes at the mention of the name.

“Sorry, I suppose I shouldn’t talk about her in front of your new partner.”

Gale shakes his head. “That’s alright, Elminster. Did you need something?”

Elminster sighs, running a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. “As it so happens, it’s about Mystra. More accurately, about Marian.”

Gale tightens his hold on the bag of tea from the Huckleberry, his knuckles turning white. “What… about her?”

“Mystra called. Is it true you haven’t been to see Marian in weeks?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why on earth not? I understand you and Mystra aren’t together anymore, but do you really think it’s right to take it out on a woman with cancer?”

Gale stiffens. “I– it’s– not that simple, Elminster.”

Astarion had been content to remain an observer in the two men’s conversation, but he senses it’s time to step in.

“I suggest you drop this topic, Elminster. What Gale does or doesn’t do is none of your business.”

“I just don’t understand… You used to get along so well with Marian. And now you’re dropping her in her time of need.”

Astarion’s voice drops, a warning. “Elminster.”

“What? It’s an honest question!”

Astarion steps in front of Gale. “Do you know what she did to him?” He glances back at Gale, who squeezes Astarion’s hand.

“Do you know about Gale’s hospitalization?”

Elminster’s face drops as he shakes his head in concern. “No, I didn’t. I’m so sorry. What happened, Gale?”

Gale weeps softly behind Astarion, who turns to whisper a question in Gale’s ear. “Do you want me to tell him?” Gale nods in assent, and Astarion returns to face Elminster.

“Mystra convinced Gale to kill himself. He tried, but thank the gods someone found him before he succeeded. He was in the hospital for weeks after.”

Elminster flushes, his visage now an eerie white. “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry, Gale. I never would have asked you this if I had known. Or if I had known things had gotten that bad with her in the first place.”

Astarion holds Gale in his arms as he speaks to Elminster. “I’m sure you can understand why Gale is staying as far as he can from Mystra and Marian, then.”

Elminster shakes his head, raising his hands in apology. “Again, I’m so sorry. I’ll tell her to leave you – and me, for that matter, alone.”

Astarion nods, and they watch Elminster as he flees the building. After he’s gone, Astarion lets them inside of Gale’s apartment before he turns to Gale. “I’m so sorry, darling. What can I do for you?” Gale crumples further into Astarion’s arms, unable to do anything but let the smaller elf hold him steady and coo words of comfort into his ear.

“Okay. We’ll stay here, just like this. You’re alright, my sweet. No one can hurt you here, it’s just you and me.”

Astarion guides them to the couch, sitting down and pulling Gale onto his lap. He cradles Gale’s head into his shoulder, Gale still sniffling loudly.

“I just feel like such a bad person, sometimes.  As much as I know I can’t go back to her, I still feel like an awful person for not seeing Marian, at least. But I just can’t deal with it anymore – all I want is to move on.”

“You’re not a bad person, darling, but you do need to focus on your own health. You can’t take care of other people at your own expense all the time, or there won’t be a you left. Hmm?”

Gale sniffles, wiping a tear into his sleeve. “I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I know. I promise it’ll get better with time.”

The next day, neither of them gets much done. They say progress is non-linear, and that sometimes the best days can be followed by truly awful ones, and it certainly seems to hold true here. Astarion can see that Gale is still miserable about the interaction with Elminster the previous day, but he can’t summon the energy to help. Gale can see Astarion isn’t feeling well, but he doesn’t have it in him to help, either.

So they rot, each in their respective rooms. Astarion huddles up under a duvet in bed, and Gale takes the couch. They talk mainly to coordinate takeout orders and mugs of tea, but always finish their interactions with a “love you”.

Chapter Text

Gale struggles with the last button on his sheer black dress shirt as he feels Astarion’s hands snake from behind him to fasten it.

“Does this look okay, love? I’ve never been anywhere like this before.”

Astarion gives him a peck on the cheek, careful not to leave a dark lipstick stain in his wake. “Darling, you look good enough to eat. Now, hurry up before I take a nibble.”

Gale catches his gaze in the mirror. “What if I want you to?”

“I’d love to, my sweet, but we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon, and I don’t want to miss the start of the show.”

“You’re right, it wouldn’t be fair to Nocturne or Shadowheart if we were late. It’s their job, after all.”

They make it to the club just in time, finding their seats a few minutes before the curtain is drawn open and the burlesque show begins.

Despite how many times he’s seen Nocturne, Gale can barely recognize her among the performers. She’s covered in a plume of black-and-purple feathers, twisting her body into a series of acrobatic feats that leave Gale wondering about the physics of it all. The show is wonderful, act after act, keeping them on the edge of their seats.

Nocturne features in several acts, some acrobatic, some dance, and some theatrical.

Once it’s over, Shadowheart finds them in the crowd. “Gale! Astarion! I’m glad you could make it! What did you think?”

Gale smiles at her. “It was lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“I’ve seen quite a few shows, but none as lovely as this one,” Astarion adds.

“Nice to hear. Would you like to see backstage? It’s not normally allowed, but since I’m the manager, I think I can make an exception.”

They both nod, and Shadowheart leads them back into the wings. It’s a flurry of movement and voices as performers strip off their makeup, hair, and costumes. Shadowheart leads them to where Nocturne is, back in her street clothes, holding her costume.

“Great show, Nocturne! You looked brilliant out there, a veritable black swan.”

“Thank you, Gale. I assume this is Astarion?”

“Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you. I agree with what Gale said, your performance was delightful. I particularly loved the acrobatic number at the beginning.”

“Thanks. Although that number ripped the seam of my costume. Again. It’s that damned split-jump at the end.”

“Ah. But surely you have a costumer who can fix it?”

Shadowheart interjects. “We do, but Genevieve called just before the show. Her father is in the hospital, so she had to go to Calimshan to be with him.”

“Our next show is tomorrow, but I guess I can always safety pin it together and hope none of the pins stab me while I’m out there.”

Astarion tilts his head. “You know, I’ve been altering clothing as long as I can remember, and I was the costumer in my school’s theater department for years. I could always take a look, maybe patch it temporarily until Genevieve comes back?”

The women exchange a look, Nocturne turning to look back at them with a shrug. “Sure, feel free to take a look. I’m sure it’ll beat bleeding on the stage if the pin fails.”

Astarion takes the garment from her, running his fingers across the torn seam. “Well, this seems like a relatively simple fix. If you can get me a needle and some thread, I’ll get it done in 10 minutes.”

Shadowheart emerges a few minutes later with the matching thread and needle, and Astarion gets to work. When he’s finished, he hands the costume back to Nocturne.

“Damn, it’s like the rip was never there. Thank you!”

“No problem at all, darling.”

Astarion gets a call from Shadowheart a few days later. Genevieve’s father is more ill than they thought, so she might not be back for months. Could Astarion make some minor repairs while they can find a replacement?

Astarion accepts, and Shadowheart drops off the clothes that afternoon. Most of the fixes are simple, much like with Nocturne’s costume, but there are a few with missing plumes of feathers to reattach, and even one that needs to be let out to accommodate a pregnant performer. Still, it’s work that Astarion enjoys, and it reminds him of his high school days. Their costumes were less extravagant, but the basics were the same. And he’s got the internet now, which makes researching new techniques infinitely faster than it was.

The next day, Gale drives him to the theater to drop off his work.

Shadowheart is delighted, thanking him profusely for the quick work. She hands him a cheque for more money than he’s ever made at once, and asks him if he’d like to work for them.

“We were going to post the job publicly and try to find someone to replace Genevieve that way, but I don’t see why we need to. Your work is pristine.”

“I can design costumes too, if you need me to.”

“I didn’t doubt it. So, will you do it?”

Astarion accepts once more, and for the first time in a decade, he has a job. One that will not only pay the bills, but one he enjoys. For once, it feels like things are looking up.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks are a blur. With Astarion starting his new job and Gale finally getting up to speed at his own, it takes some time to establish a routine. Gale drops Astarion off at work on his way in and picks up Astarion after work.

Gale leaves work as Astarion sends him a text. They’ve run out of his latest obsession, an artisanal pear-matcha smoothie that’s supposed to boost one’s energy, memory, and at least a dozen other things, at least according to FaeTok. Naturally, that smoothie isn’t sold at their normal grocery store, so Gale has to take a detour to an obscenely expensive store called the Leaf & Lichen.

Gale’s emptying the better part of the smoothie shelf into his basket, adding a couple of new flavors for good measure as a familiar voice calls out behind him.

“Gale? My goodness, is that you?”

Gale nearly drops the basket as he flushes, sending a quick prayer to the gods that he be incinerated on the spot.

They don’t answer, so he turns around.

Gale lifts his gaze sheepishly. “Hi, Marian.”

She looks surprisingly well, almost like she did before she got sick.

Marian smiles at him, her reaction more kind than Gale expected. “How have you been, Gale?”

“I’m well. I could ask you the same, considering where I last saw you.”

“Well, that was such a long time ago. I’ve been in remission for months.”

Confusion flashes on Gale’s face. “That’s certainly good to hear. Treatment must’ve worked well, then.”

Marian nods. “Nothing a bone marrow transplant couldn’t fix.”

Gale tries to work out the timelines in his head, but they don’t seem to make sense. “When was that, exactly?”

“I was recovering from it when you visited. They discharged me a few weeks after that.”

“I must’ve been mistaken, then. I thought you were freshly diagnosed when I visited.”

“No, not at all. It was a while before that. I just didn’t want to bother you, considering you and Mystra.”

“-What do you mean, me and Mystra?”

“You being broken up, of course.”

“Wait. Did you know that when I visited?”

“Of course. She told me after it happened.”

“Then… Why didn’t you say anything? You asked me to take care of her, told us we were perfect together.”

“It was easier on Mystra that way. I thought maybe you had reconciled, and I didn’t want to make a fuss and upset her. She’d already been through so much stress with my illness.”

“I… wish I had known.”

Marian shrugs. “Sorry if she didn’t tell you, but you know how she is. She’s always been keen to have her way.”

“That she has. I’m glad you’re doing well, Marian.”

“You too, Gale. Maybe we’ll meet again sometime. You certainly seem to have a taste for those smoothies”, she says as she gestures to Gale’s basket.

Gale smiles. “I think we might, though it’s my partner who’s obsessed with these, not me.”

“I hope they’re good to you, Gale.”

Gale smiles as he turns away. “He is.”

Astarion hops into the car in front of the theater.

“How was your day, darling?”

“Interesting, to be sure. I got your smoothies, there’s one in the cupholder.”

Astarion grabs a bottle and opens it right away. “My knight in shining armor!”

“I ran into Marian at the store when I was getting those.”

“Mystra’s mother?”

“The very same. Come to find out, she’s been in remission for months.”

“What?”

“She had already had a bone marrow transplant when I visited her, and she was discharged a few weeks after.”

“So all this time, Mystra’s been lying to you? Marian’s been fine?”

“It seems so. And she knew about me and Mystra being broken up from the start.”

“What a witch! She could’ve let you out of your misery, and she didn’t?!”

“She said she did it for Mystra’s sake. She was trying to save her some stress.”

“What about your stress?”

“Well, she’s always had Mystra’s back in situations like these, so I’m not surprised she did now as well.”

“Gods, what a mess. At least you know, and you don’t have to feel bad about Marian anymore.”

“Silver linings, I suppose.”

 Astarion takes another sip of his smoothie.

“Was she nice to you, at least?”

“Very. She wished me all the best, and I did the same.”

“Good. I was getting ready to go threaten her if she hadn’t been.”

Gale lets out a sigh. “Love, no. I wouldn’t want you to do it even if she hadn’t been nice to me.”

“Let me brood, darling. It’s the least I can do for you, given all the smoothies you bought me.”

“They did cost me an arm and a leg. And I suppose it’s nice that you care about me enough to brood on my behalf.”

“Of course.”

“By the way, I bought a couple of new flavors as well, in case you wanted to try them.”

“Of course I do!”

At home, Gale makes them dinner while Astarion sips on each of the new smoothie flavors. Just as he finishes plating the food, they hear a knock at the door.

The two men look at each other. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

“I suppose I’d better see who it is. At least it can’t be Godey, this time.”

Gale opens the door, a scowl forming on his face when he sees who it is. Mystra.  

“Baby, I’m so glad you’re home! I talked to mum, there’s been a big misunderstanding! Can I come in?”

He goes to close the door, but she’s already got a foot in the door. Gale sighs loudly.

“Get out, Mystra. I don’t care what you have to say.”

 “Give me a chance to explain! You owe me that much!”

“Please leave before I call the police. Your mother is fine, and that’s the only thing that’s relevant here.”

Mystra's tone drops to something dangerous, familiar. “You wouldn’t dare call the police on me, would you, baby?”

Gale gulps as he realizes the truth in her words. He doesn’t think he could.

He thanks his lucky star when he hears Astarion behind him. “It doesn’t matter. I will.” He’s holding his phone in his hand, the number already set to dial.

Mystra scowls at Astarion, looking at him like he’s shit on the sole of her shoe. “And who are you?”

Astarion looks at Gale. “I’m Gale’s boyfriend.”

Mystra sputters incredulously. “Boyfriend? Surely not. Gale’s not a fag – though you clearly are.” As she says it, she stares at Astarion disdainfully.

The resultant contemptuous sneer on Astarion’s face is enough to make even Mystra waver. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t know a thing about him, you bitch.”

Mystra recovers at the insult, never one to let a barb go unreturned. “And I suppose you do?”

“A damn sight more than you, it seems. Now, I’ll give you one last chance to leave peacefully, or I’ll call the police and have you leave in the back of a cruiser. Feel free to choose the cruiser, it’d make it much easier for Gale’s lawyer to build a case against you for stalking him.”

This finally leaves Mystra lost for words. She flounders for a moment before retreating into the corridor, heading to the elevator.

Astarion slams the door behind her, turning to look at Gale. He’s scowling, too, though Astarion can see some sadness beneath the hate, too.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“I am. Gods, what a bitch. Her using the f-word was the last straw.”

“Let me guess – it feels worse that she called me a fag than that she lied to you for months?”

Gale nods slowly, self-awareness clear in his eyes. “It certainly feels that way.”

“Well, the important thing is that your anger is being directed at her instead of yourself. I’m proud of you for that, Gale.”

“Thank you. And thank you for stepping in. I don’t think I could have called the police on her.”

“No problem at all. I can be protective enough for two.”