[Well, that's a question he feels he ought to answer very cautiously.]
As a matter of fact, I did. I think you had the right idea, ending the night with fairy tales after all that stimulating discussion. The whole evening was a great success.
[There, if he includes that bit, it's enough of a buffer, isn't it?]
[His face is also very suddenly feeling a bit flushed.
Ahem. Right.]
Of course; my mistake. Actually, I found it a bit difficult to settle back in to sleep once I was back to my own room. Thought it best to start the day, but I don't believe I suffered too terribly for sitting up all night. Crawling through caves and the like while trying to avoid attention is far worse for one's back.
I should have asked you the same, however. My manners are abysmal. Were you able to get further rest?
As for myself, I slept well although I needed to distract myself beforehand to settle down. I tried not to do any work since that would have the opposite effect of getting me to sleep.
Listening to classical music helped in that regard.
Glad to hear you were able to set it aside in favor of resting. Given that I know you've worked through an entire night more than a few times, I'm certain that wasn't easy to do. Of course, I've been guilty of the same.
You found yourself in need of distraction?
[Was she thinking about what had happened as much as he had been?]
Music does often have a soothing effect on the soul, I've found. We likely have different ideas of what qualifies as "classical," given our differing frames of reference. I still find it incredible that music can be listened to so freely here.
I was thinking about what read for the next book club and pored over different novels in my mind. I'm a mite too eager perhaps to organize the next meeting even if it won't happen too soon.
[Was she thinking about their library sleepover? It's likely but it's also unlikely she'd reveal such a thing over text.]
There are so many genres of music as there are books. Depending on the book, sometimes I'll find a specific type of melody to accompany my reading.
For classical music, I could share what's from my world if you'd like.
I would say your eagerness is to be expected, even applauded. The book club was a roaring success. I'm already looking forward to the next one, even if it's some ways away. A worthy use of our vacation time, I feel.
That there are so many different genres doesn't surprise me in the least. It's wide availability without needing to be performed live is still quite astounding. There are devices and even spells that can capture or play a particular song, but nothing like what I've seen here. I would be quite keen to take you up on that offer and hear what your own world has to offer.
This piece is called "Waltz of Flowers." Normally it would be played with a full orchestra to accompany the dance but I think this piano performance is excellent too.
[She sends him the music clip where he can just press play to listen to the Waltz of Flowers in all of its classical and elegant glory.]
[The response comes a bit later, once he's had time to listen to the piece a few times through— the novelty of being able to do so may never wear off.]
Such marvels will never cease to amaze me.
I don't believe I've ever heard a piece quite like this one. Its complexity shines through despite the lack of a full orchestra, the piano having a broad range of expression all on its own. It's quite stirring, not to mention lovely. It really is amazing, what music is able to accomplish.
In theory, I might have been able to had I arrived with a music box or something of the like on my person. There are some spells that might be able to recreate or share an echo of a song, but it is nothing compared to the real thing. A pale imitation, though in lieu of any other option, it would be enough.
My condition, unfortunately, has stripped me of the greatest of my powers. Though I have regained some, I've not tried this particular trick in quite some time. I would certainly be willing to try, though I fear I may disappoint.
If you're able to, I would like it very much, but on the other hand, you don't need to overdo it on my account.
[That condition of his... She is concerned but she had also told Gale to tell her more about it when he's ready. Amelia at this point would rather be hands off though she will ask:]
Do you think being in this hotel, the effects of your condition are stalled, so to speak?
I would very much like to make the attempt, at the very least. It would be a good opportunity to see how much of my ability I am able to tap into, what limits I'm able to push, in addition to returning the favor of sharing— which is, of course, the most important part.
I have given the hotel's potential impact some thought. I do believe that the progressive problem I had mentioned to you is, at the moment, in stasis. I also think that I may be able to call on the latent power in the hotel itself to aid my own, with some practice, which is quite promising.
I confess to being a bit envious in that regard. While I've certainly regained a great deal of my ability and am still a highly proficient wizard by most standards, it often feels quite disappointing when compared to what I know myself to be capable of. That, however, I have largely brought upon myself. Reaching those heights once more is something I consider to be part of my journey towards redemption.
[This got Real Honest, though he's not terribly secretive about most of this.]
I've never quite seen anyplace like this, even in all my travels as Mystra's Chosen. It's power is far greater than site I've ever had occasion to visit on the material plane.
[... It feels like it may be the right time to ask him about Mystra and what being the Chosen of the goddess meant. Truth be told, their time in the Vale hadn't left her mind as much as they were able to not bring it up to each other. However, it's not like she can walk away from shared and important fragments like that and pretend it never existed, right?
Gale was an oddly honest man, an oddly honest wizard. Not that the magickind that she's known isn't honest, but there is a reason why she's only stuck to Berna and Michael as her true magic-minded companions. She was satisfied with them (even if things with Michael didn't work out). Everyone else in their small population was distant, cryptic, self-interested, or already part of their own circles with no room for her.
But here was Gale of Waterdeep, friendly, all smiles, and so warm towards her, prickly and thorny as she is. Even Amelia found herself seeking him out and that is something that takes effort for everyone else whom she keeps at arm's length or deals in a strictly platonic manner. He had the attributes to draw people towards him and be a highly decorated wizard, but the revelation in the Vale told a different story and it wasn't one of success and glory.
Several minutes later, she sends him a new message.]
I wanted to ask you about that. About Mystra and what being a Chosen means.
But that's probably not a conversation you'd want over texting.
[It was probably due time to go into all that in detail, wasn't it? He had been willing to tell her sooner; he had almost spilled a great deal of it before they had even ventured into the Vale proper, when the orb within him had reacted to the touch of her magic, but she had assured him that it was not necessary he do so immediately.
It is something that he feels he ought to share with anyone he considers a friend, and he certainly considers Amelia that at the very least— but the right moment hadn't presented itself. Given how they had spent their night in the library and his conversation with Astarion, it's better if he explains himself sooner rather than later. If she hadn't asked, he likely would have found himself offering before long, but it would seem the moment has arrived quite naturally.]
It is better explained in person, yes, but I would be happy to answer any questions you may have. In that same vein, there are some things I have been meaning to tell you about how I came to be who I am now.
Speaking face-to-face with you is never a hardship, I assure you. I made some turnovers to my mother's recipe earlier this afternoon, if you're interested.
I was raised to be self-sufficient in the kitchen; Morena Dekarios would not have it any other way. Hardly a professional, mind you, but I do take a great deal of satisfaction in preparing such things myself. You've sampled my baking before, in fact.
[Girl, those apple crumble cupcakes at book club were homemade.]
[Right, she was the one who told him to bring something to book club and had acknowledged it was him who made it... But she really underestimated how proficient he was in the kitchen. That's on her for overlooking such a detail.
(He mentioned his mother and his last name has been revealed too. It's a very fitting one.)]
I'll bring over some tea then to go with the turnovers.
By all means, take all the time you need. Regardless, I look forward to it.
[Fortunately, his suite is already prepared for company, the library and living space intended to be a welcoming and comforting environment at all times. He'd had Astarion over for coffee and Serious Discussion earlier; this recreation of his favorite part of his tower in Waterdeep has seen more company in one day than the real one had seen in well over a year. Funny, how things have changed.]
[Amelia arrives fifteen minutes later on the dot. There's a knock on the door and Gale will find her in casual clothing with a small wooden box between her hands.
This would only be the second time she's ever visited a fellow guest's room she realizes. The first time, she had tea with Kaveh and he was completely different from hers so she was curious to see what Gale's looked like.]
[Despite the heavy conversation to come, Gale is smiling warmly when he opens the door for her, as he so often is, and steps back to gesture inwards in invitation.]
Amelia! Please, please, come in— a pleasure to see you, as always.
[The main living space is a library in its own right; there's a large sofa with a a table in front of it and a lit fireplace, but the rest of the room is almost wall-to-wall shelves, most full of books. Those that aren't bear various trinkets and devices, bottles and herbs, and the far side of the main room boasts a pair of doors framed by heavy curtains that open out onto a balcony. The balcony itself looks out over a cityscape— one that is certainly not native, but with stunning old-world architecture and an enormous harbor beyond it.]
[Amelia nods in response to his greeting and takes a step inside.]
Thank you for having me.
[She's glancing back and forth at the interior and while her face doesn't show it (of course) she's impressed with how much it's shaped to suit Gale. It's unmistakably his room, very different from hers where it's styled to be similar to her own house, which is a mix of modern, vintage, and cottage-like elements.
And she had a lot of books too. Two bookworms in a pod as ever, the both of them.
Her back is to Gale as she looks out at the balcony and at the cityscape, knowing that it isn't necessarily real (there are limits to the hotel she's noted) but the witch is curious nonetheless.]
Am I correct to assume that this is a view of Waterdeep that's shaped itself for you?
[He sounds quite pleased to confirm that, closing the door behind them before he moves to join her— though with her back turned, he can't help but notice that her sweater isn't quite as modest as it had appeared from the front. Not inappropriate by any stretch, but certainly surprising, given what he's seen her wear up until now.
He clears his throat softly, coming to stand beside her near the doors to the balcony.]
Just a bit of home, even if it's only an illusion. Much of this space is modeled after my tower's sitting room— the balcony there is my favorite place in the entire world.
Her admiration for the scenery grows. The view from her window at home is a corner in the neighborhood surrounded by trees and her well-cared-for flower garden. Cozy, intimate, and private. The bit of home that Gale has with him here is also cozy but it implies a bigger world outside of that window, more than just the City of Splendors itself.
Unaware that she's caused any reaction with her casual outfit, Amelia looks up at Gale.]
How long have you been away from home since then, not counting the time we've been here? You and Astarion had been traveling for a while, yes?
He takes a moment to consider, folding his arms across his chest as he tallies up the time.]
By now, we've been here longer than we were on the road, though I don't mean to diminish the time we spent traveling. So much happened during that time, it seems like it must have been far longer than it was— but dire circumstances do bring people together quite quickly, no matter what world they're in.
[Circumstances had demanded that they come to know one another quickly, trust one another, and time was of the essence in everything they did. Their experiences had already changed each and every one of those involved fundamentally.]
I do admit to feeling a bit homesick at times, but even back in Faerun, I have much to do before I can return to Waterdeep.
... I think for myself, this has been the longest I've ever been away from home since I settled in Blackgale. I didn't travel too much even if I had the capability and means to.
[And here's Amelia and the last thing she remembers was getting ready to deep dive into the middle of the first semester and get her students ready for their district writing assessments. It was also around the time she should have been feeding the Blue Moon Belly, but she knows there are other people who can take care of that.
But she suddenly misses home.
She moves from the balcony and looks for a table to set her box down.]
I can start making the tea. I have two types of black tea, and several herbal blends if that's more of your taste for this time of day.
[Interesting— though it would seem that they both preferred to stay home as opposed to travel. He'd done plenty of the latter before his little jaunt to Avernus had demanded it, of course, but it had been quite awhile since wizarding business had taken him from Waterdeep for any significant length of time. He smiles a little, glad for the opportunity to learn another little something new about her, but her mention of the tea immediately draws him back to the present moment.]
Of course! My apologies— here we are.
[He turns towards the room proper, waving a hand so that the nearby table is suddenly set with a tablecloth, two cups, saucers and a silver teapot. In addition, a plate of turnovers has appeared, and he proceeds to pull one of the chairs out to offer her a seat.]
Black tea sounds perfect. No doubt I'll be up late into the night regardless, but feel free to surprise me. I'm sure both are splendid.
[She must admit, their magic is rather similar which is why she won't remark on it. When you're a witch, this sort of trick is child's play, and no doubt even for Gale in his current state, it's the same.
Amelia takes a seat but takes the silver teapot and gets to work to engrave a few runes. One to summon water and another to start heating it up. Soon, steam starts to puff from the spout and she opens the lid to add the teabag.]
There. It should steep for about a minute and it'll be ready.
[He takes his seat opposite her, and despite the serious nature of the topic that had brought her here, his high spirits seem to be quite genuine. He's always been a personable sort who has enjoyed the company of others, but now that he's aware of the fact that he enjoys hers especially, he can't help but feel a bit lighter, even considering the weight of what he'll be sharing with her in a few moments.
He plucks one of the pastries from the plate beside the teapot, neatly pulling off a corner.]
So. Naturally, you have question. For the most part, I'm an open book. I've been meaning to share much of this with you regardless— since before our venturing into the Vale some weeks back, when your own magic caused that reaction.
[She'll take a turnover then! A small bite is taken and... It's good just like the cupcakes had been.
("He'd be a hit at bake sales. Both the baked goods and him," thinks Amelia, already envisioning a crowd of suburban mothers swarming a table being run by Gale.)
oops, her mind wandered for a second but it's a good thing she keeps a drywall face
The tea is properly steeped so she'll pour it into both cups for the both of them.]
Yes... Of course, I was wondering about that.
If it's alright with you, I wanted to know what being "Mystra's Chosen" was about and how it relates to your current condition.
[He waits until she's done pouring the tea to give her a nod of thanks, carefully drawing his cup a bit closer to himself. The first question is simple enough to answer; he's hardly the only Chosen to walk the face of Toril, and the rest of what he has to share really does stem from his time in service.]
Of course. Many gods and goddesses select a "Chosen," a mortal who will serve as their agent. Some will take several in succession, some one at a time— some, none at all. I drew Mystra's attention at a young age— I was a prodigy, you see.
[For all his confidence and occasional theatrics, there doesn't seem to be an ounce of conceit in that statement; he simply speaks as though it were fact.]
Favored by Mystra, I was able to develop my natural talent with the goddess of magic herself to serve as my muse, with a Chosen of ages past to serve as my mentor— the greatest wizard our world has ever seen. As Chosen, I was her hand among mortals. I sought out and destroyed forbidden magic, helped to preserve the balance, did my part to ensure her Weave was not used for wicked deeds. I was her blade— and in turn, she was everything to me. Goddess, teacher— lover.
[His voice falters slightly, though only just; a note of disappointment as he reflects on his past self, how much of himself he had been willing to give to someone who now demanded he sacrifice himself for a chance at forgiveness.]
[Her gaze is focused on Gale as she listens to his explanation. It's easy enough to understand and there are more deities than just Mystra herself. But if she was the goddess of magic, the essence of it herself, she must be on another tier altogether. His duties as her Chosen weren't unlike what the witches and warlocks of her world were meant for. The preservation of balance and the strongest line of defense against outer forces who would invade the world; they were his creations, creatures of the highest caliber.
But they did not love him back. And it's hard to say if he actually "loved." From the sound of it, Mystra had a degree of affection for those who followed her, comprehensible even and Gale was involved with her in that manner.]
... So what happened? For you to fall out of favor with her, I mean.
[His expression has become somber now, though it's not quite anger, not quite resentment. Regret, certainly. He knows full well that he was responsible for his own fall from grace. Though time has begun to shift his perspective regarding the circumstances surrounding it, that much has not changed.]
I was too ambitious. In some ways, it can be a person's greatest strength. To never be satisfied with what you've accomplished, never be content with all you've managed to learn— surely, that is to be commended, yes? A desire to push forward, to become a better version of yourself.
[He shakes his head, pausing for a sip of his tea before setting the cup down.]
I had all anyone could want. I was revered among my fellow wizards, celebrated among academics. I had power that rivaled even that of my own mentor— Elminster Aumar, the greatest wizard who ever lived. I had the favor of the goddess of magic herself, shared her bed, and still I wanted more. I reached too far.
[He frowns slightly, his brow furrowing.]
I failed to learn from history itself, and thought that where my predecessors failed, surely I would succeed. I defied Mystra's wishes and used forbidden magic to retrieve a piece of her power, one that had been stolen from her previous incarnation, wishing to return it to her. It was meant to be a way to prove myself, that I was capable of yet more— a labor of love. As I'm sure you can guess, things did not go to plan.
Amelia sees a regretful Gale in front of her as he lists off all of what he had before. The admiration of his peers, mentoring from one of the greatest wizards, and the love of a goddess herself, never mind how messy that relationship sounded in her modern point of view. What surprises her the most out of all of that is how Gale readily admits how he wanted more, how those accolades weren't enough. His greed is similar to witches in her world.
What Amelia has learned over the years is that witches are greedy, helpful, yearning, and wanting. They wanted to grasp difficult and intangible things and it's such a strong, unreasonable drive that contributes to their unnatural lifespan.
But Gale's hubris circled back to something much more basic; he called it a labor of love and what could be more human than that?
She sips her tea, letting the heat and malty taste clarify her senses before she replies.]
It sounds as if you were well-intentioned.
[Though as they say, the road of good intentions leads to hell.]
How come you couldn't return that power to her? Were you mistaken about it somewhere along the way?
[He nods in agreement— yes, he certainly had been well-intentioned, even considering the pouting and pleading he had done with Mystra beforehand, practically begging to be allowed to cross the boundaries she had set for mortals, to see what wonders the Weave could yet offer. Well-intentioned. Certainly, in part... but he knows in his heart that part of his motive had been selfish. So it was, to be human.]
It was a display of raw power, presented as a romantic gesture. Between the two, I was certain she would at last deem me worthy to explore the Weave beyond what other mortals had been allowed to achieve, rather than continuing to tell me to be contented. I was terribly mistaken. When I obtained that shard of her power...
[He pauses, frowning slightly as he shakes his head, and he puts his hand over his own heart.]
You remember how this glowed, reacting to the touch of your own magic? That fragment of the Weave itself made its home in me— perhaps should have killed me outright, but it did not. It made me its vessel and hungered for more, demanding to be fed by potent magic, traces of the Weave itself. In my attempts to return a jewel to my goddess' crown, I instead found myself blighted by ancient magic so powerful that if it were ever to fully destabilize, it would level the entirety of Waterdeep itself, perhaps more. The result would be devastating.
[He sighs, his expression uncharacteristically grim. For the most part, Amelia has seen him to be someone who is usually in good spirits, optimistic, but it's safe to say that this is never far from his mind. It weighs on him, day in and day out.]
All this, even before the 'condition' I had mentioned to you before. At least that, should it progress, will only be my end. This... this is a problem I must solve before that time comes, if it does. I can grieve what I lost, but it was my own folly that cost me. What I will not abide is others paying the price for my foolishness.
[This wizard's burden was metaphorical and literal. When he puts his hand over his heart and explains the fragment of the Weave that lies within, her green eyes widen in realization at the enormity of it all. He's a ticking timebomb and there's his other condition... It's all so much, too much. Gale Dekarios is marked for death no matter where he turns.
A creeping uncertainty trickles into the back of her mind, an anxiety that she hadn't felt in quite some time.
(Someone's going to leave again, they'll be gone no matter what I do, it's not worth trying to hold on if it's going to make me...)
Amelia swallows it down and sets her teacup aside.]
Do you think when I cast that rune back then, that fragment within absorbed it? Or was it just a reaction?
[He shakes his head again in response, though her concern is certainly a reasonable one.]
I don't believe so, no— simply a reaction, as you said. The feeling when it does absorb something is very... unique, shall we say.
[Which is a gentle way of saying that it's incredibly painful, but he isn't telling her any of this tale to mine for sympathy. It is to be transparent, to be honest about who he really is. His mistakes, and their consequences. They are, first and foremost, friends. Even if he's become acutely aware of the fact that he would like to be more—
It would be unfair, to pursue any such thing without telling her the truth, bordering on unethical. It's a lot to ask anyone to bear, even a friend.]
I was granted one boon, not so long before coming here. Elminster found me at Mystra's behest, and made use of a charm to offer the orb stability, while charging me with a particular task. The orb will no longer erupt without my say so, as long as I still live. What may happen after, I cannot say. It is imperative to me to find a way to diffuse or remove it before my time comes.
[He glances at her, his gaze carefully guarded— unusual, for him— and curls both hands around his teacup. His turnover, for the moment, is forgotten.]
I'm sure you can see why I've fallen out of Mystra's favor, having defied her so. For a time, finding a way to redeem myself and earn a way back into her good graces was all I could think of— apart from keeping myself alive.
[The abruptness of her response is almost enough to startle him; he flinches, only slightly, but fixes his gaze on her instead of averting it. Clearly, it brings him no joy to continue on with this part.]
The Heart of the Absolute. It is the power at the very core of the crisis the Sword Coast is currently facing— the power that is responsible for the condition Astarion and I both suffer, along with our companions. Should the Absolute be allowed to continue to carry out its nefarious plans, the Sword Coast and beyond will be overrun with an Illithid army. It will change Faerun as we know it. The task I was given by Mystra, through my mentor, was to destroy it. It would mean sacrificing myself.
[He knows, of course, how that sounds, and he puts up a hand to stay any potential interruption.]
For some time, I was convinced I would do exactly that. It would save countless lives— and if I was dying anyway, better that it have meaning, serve a greater purpose. I was prepared to use the orb to bring an end to the Absolute itself, only when we found the heart, we discovered that it was being controlled by mortals through the use of a powerful ancient artifact. In that moment, I realized there could be another way— a better way. And—
[He pauses again, exhaling steadily.]
For the first time in a very long time, I would like to live.
[What is she supposed to do with this information? It's a flood full of devastating implications that flash across her face and eyes breaking down her levelheadedness. This shouldn't have to be her concern as it's literally worlds away where Gale and his companions have to face these series of personal trials. For the wizard the fact that his beloved goddess was telling him to give his very life for... It's nothing short of awful.
But it's been almost over a month since they've ended up in Hotel Caelum. Almost a month since she started to get to know these people and slowly started to open up her heart whether she was aware of it or not and...
I'm sorry. I realize this is a lot to lay on anyone.
[He doesn't expect her to say much. What is there to be said? He's hardly looking for sympathy, for pity, for someone to tell him that none of this was his own fault after all— he'd come to terms with that long ago.
But it was important to be honest. This was too much a part of him not to share, and Amelia had glimpsed more of who he was in his own world than most others had the opportunity to here.]
Your friendship has come to mean a great deal to me. I would certainly understand if you were to think less of me because of my foolishness, but I promise you, you are in no danger. As it stands, I am in control of the situation— as much as one can be.
I don't—Gale, I don't think lesser of you for any of that.
[Amelia lets out a frustrated sigh and runs one hand through her hair as she tries to process everything that he's revealed to her. More importantly, she's having to do the unwanted work of understanding why this is upsetting her so specifically even when he tries to reassure her.
Friendship. Yes, that's what this was between them (if there's more, the witch is still too reluctant to see it as such), a seed that was sown since the first day that they met and why Amelia eased into Gale's company more easily than others. And now she finally forces herself to confess internally that their friendship is why all of this is upsetting. Something new but good in her life had a looming chance of ending all too soon.
When she speaks up there's an attempt for a measured tone but there's a tenseness that holds back how she truly feels.]
Are you sure? Is there anything anyone could... Could I do something?
[Reckless? Yes, it is, especially since Amelia was the one who suggested different magic streams shouldn't be crossed so thoughtlessly.
She stands up, too riled up to sit still, and paces back and forth.]
Extraction, forced dormancy, pour that corruption into something else... Anything?
[It stirs something in him to see that she cares so much, that her usual calm and collected manner has been set aside in favor of pacing, listing off possible options. That she offers at all— it means a great deal, even if he fears it may amount to nothing.]
I admit that if anyone here could, it would likely be you, given your experience, but...
[He, too, gets to his feet, and when she paces back towards the table, he gently catches her by the wrist in hopes of getting her to stand still, just for a moment.]
Amelia. This is not your burden to bear. Extraction... that would be too great a risk to you, to everyone here. If you were to come to harm trying to help me, I wouldn't be able to bear it.
[The other options may have merit, but the sentiment remains the same. He doesn't want anyone else to come to harm.]
[When it comes down to it, Amelia, the Emerald Witch, cannot bear to suffer another loss in her life. To do so means failure, and failure of that magnitude weighs on her so much as a witch whose entire being meant to make the impossible, possible. What use is magic when it causes them so much misery?
Just as she's about to sink further into the dark rabbit hole of her thoughts and past experiences, Gale's hand upon her wrist stops her. She can't bear to look at him, not with the pain behind her eyes.]
... You can't just say that after you told me so much.
[There would have been more bite in her voice if not for the tiredness that colors it instead. Her hand is limp in his grasp but she doesn't pull away.]
... Gale? Maybe it's not so surprising but I don't have many friends. [Amelia swallows.]
Circumstances aside, I'm obstinate and ornery, and many things bother me, including other people and—
[She's not sure where she's going for this. Perhaps the underlying question she wants to ask him is "Why me?"]
—And when there's a problem in front of me, I have a bad habit of being unable to ignore it.
[For a moment, he only listens. When she's through, he nods, his careful hold on her wrist remaining.
She is, admittedly, all of the things she's listed. They're all qualities he's come to find endearing, even admirable, but as he's glimpsed bits and pieces of who she is beneath that careful, professional way she presents herself, he's reminded of what he'd said to her that first morning over breakfast.
It sounds like a very lonely way to live.
Though he may not know all of her reasoning, he knows her well enough to know by now that she's very cautious about who she lets in, who she calls friend.]
You're right. It's not my decision, however much I would hate to see you come to harm. It's yours. And if you're being kind enough to offer your aid—
[He catches himself, and gives another shake of his head as his voice falters slightly, tired. The affable wizard he's shown their fellow guests day in and day out almost seems a stranger in this moment, feels almost like a past life, an echo of who he was before all of this.]
It would be foolish of me to refuse it. I should consider myself so lucky to have so devoted a friend. But before you may any further decisions— you should know what you're dealing with in full. I will not blame you in the least if you change your mind, though I know you are not the kind to do so easily.
[Still holding her wrist, he goes down on one knee, guiding her hand towards his chest.]
[Amelia whips her head around to look at Gale as he guides her hand to him. For a moment it looks and feels like she's about to pull away but at the last second, it doesn't happen. Instead, she leans down so she's more at face-level with Gale. Her other hand grips her thigh as she Envisions a series of protection runes around her body.
Aside from that first time when her single magic rune caused a reaction, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen. Her hand makes contact with his chest. Now that they’re so close, the pulse in her wrist is more noticeable as is the trembling in her fingers. She makes it stop and then nods at Gale.]
Show me.
[What more could be said? They’re both in too deep to back out now.]
[He nods firmly, feeling the brief quickening of her pulse beneath his fingers before she wills it to steady.
There is nothing further to be said. He closes his eyes and focuses inward, on the power that has been eating away at his insides for the last year. Even now, stabilized by Elminster through Mystra's own grace, it is clear that its power is only barely contained, trapped in a delicate cage and threatening to tear through its very bars. The orb marking on his chest glows bright once more, much as it had in the corridor that day weeks earlier, snaking its way up the tendrils that curl along his neck— then glows brighter still, almost blindingly so, a light that seems a stark contrast to what lies within.
The feeling pulls at her, recognizing a life outside of its own host, and it is a gnawing, black, hungry thing. A gaping void that longs for more, refuses to be sated, beating against the inside of his chest as it longs to escape. It is starved, aching to consume, unquestionably destructive. Beneath the warmth of his chest there's the faint chill of something otherworldly, a necrotic energy that threatens to chill any who touch it down to their very bones, but there is one sensation that persists stronger than all others. That longing for more, that hunger, that wanting.
His eyes remain closed, but Gale grits his teeth as he feels the pain of his burden grow more pronounced, his shoulders and grip tense as he steels himself, forces himself to remain upright. It's felt worse in the past— but for awhile, this place has allowed him to feel almost normal again, despite the dull, gnawing ache that continually haunts him.]
[Amelia gasps as the orb glows, its light reflecting off of her glasses; the force is immediate but the runes that reinforce her arm glow and keep her steady and resist the pull.
But it barely protects her against the sinister chill beneath the surface. The sensation homes in on the witch and her magic, teething, knawing, wanting more. This would horrify anyone and truthfully the gravity of it all makes her grit her teeth. Instead of drawing back after the display of formidable, devastating power, Amelia drops to her knees, her palm continuing to press against the orb. How could she turn from Gale when he is showing her something that caused him such obvious pain?
The Emerald Witch is many things, but frightened and terrified in the face of deadly arcane forces? Over her dead body.]
Gale! [Her other hand cups his face. Smaller runes fly off of her fingertips and travel across his skin, down his neck and around the orb.]
[Her hand against his face draws him back to the present moment; he takes a deep, shuddering breath and swallows hard as the glow begins to subside, the worst of the pain along with it— but it's not only the calming of the orb itself that causes it to do so. He has always been able to sense the feel of another's magic, but Amelia's is unlike any he has ever encountered in Faerûn, cool and soothing and distinctly hers.
He catches a glimpse of the runes flying from her fingertips as he opens his eyes, but finds his gaze fixed on her instead, and where some people would have drawn back, staggered away in horror, she stands firm, stubborn, determined.
"I won't let it hurt anymore."
He finds himself equal parts touched and overwhelmed, and any words he might have had stick in his throat for a moment. He feels a surge of something else within his chest, something that has nothing to do with magic at all, and finds himself almost frightened by the impulse that threatens to overtake him then, to lean in and—
He swallows it down, shoves it aside, and exhales as he releases his hold on her wrist, worried that he might have gripped too hard while bracing himself.]
... thank you.
[For all the ways she chooses to describe herself, she is incredibly kind.]
You aren't hurt at all? I apologize, I— lost myself for a moment, I'm afraid.
[Amelia lets out a sigh of relief when the orb's light subsides. For a second his gaze connects with hers and there's a complex expression behind it. He's at a loss for words, maybe because of her recklessness and the foolish lack of fear at the disaster orb of magic? She's not certain and is more concerned with Gale's physical and mental state after releasing that energy in front of her.
Part of it, she realizes as releases her wrist, is that he really was afraid that she would reject and distance herself from him. Was he afraid of that happening if he told his other acquaintances in this hotel?]
I'm not hurt.
[It's true. There's too much adrenaline running through her as well as her reactive magic from the roots of her hair to the tips of her fingers to really register any pain. That or the orb did numb her but never mind the effects of it coming into contact with her magic.
Amelia uses her free hand to cup the other side of Gale's face. She's studying him carefully as they both settle down and she uses some of her fingers to brush some stray strands of his hair away from his eyes and behind his ears.]
And don't apologize to me. I'm not the one heaving and about to keel over.
[There it is, the return of her no-nonsense curtness.]
[There's a palpable air of relief when she confirms that she's unharmed— showing her had seemed the best way to grant her fuller understanding of the situation, but she's barely bat an eye, let alone pulled away. The way she's fussing over him is almost enough to make him forget any lingering pain entirely; it's unexpected, but certainly not unpleasant, and he swears he feels a flush creep into his cheeks as she tucks his hair back behind his ears.
Surely, she'll think nothing of it. A side-effect of the exertion he had just put himself through, if it shows at all.]
I'll be fine. I've had time to grow used to it, for better or worse. It's always been at its worst when needing to be fed, but the method I once used had lost effectiveness over time. It's stable enough, for the time being.
[He looks at her searchingly, both of them on their knees, his face still caught between her hands, and he carefully lifts his own again to lightly touch her forearm.]
What did you do? Whatever it was, I believe it helped.
[Her hands move away from his face, but she remains kneeling in front of him. As she starts to explain, one palm moves to touch his forehead as if to check for a fever.]
My magic and generally speaking, magic as a whole in my world operates as a language. Or rather, a series of intricate otherworldly languages, each serving a different purpose.
[She puts her palm down and rests both of her hands on her thighs, still examining other out there signs on Gale's person.]
What I applied are some passive runes that are used for calming, numbing, and serenity—anything that I Envisioned could lessen whatever you were feeling. Of course, you have the reins so it wouldn't have worked half as well without that factoring in.
... I don't think it's absorbed my runes yet. I felt its pull but it couldn't take anything from me. Probably because of the measures your mentor and Mystra took to keep it settled for now.
[He actually lets out a soft chuckle as she checks his brow and continues to inspect him, but rather insist that he's fine once more, he lets her do as she will until she's completely satisfied. It's an act that makes him feel significantly younger in a way he can't quite explain, but endearing in its own right. As she searches, she'll find nothing out of the ordinary; the marks on his face, neck and chest have ceased their glowing, and no harm seems to be done, despite the power of what she now knows to reside within his chest.]
Very quick and clever thinking, though I would expect nothing less from you. I'll say it once more—
[He meets her gaze again, holding it for a moment.]
Thank you. For your effort, of course, but not only that. As I'm sure you can imagine, not everyone would have handled what I shared with as much grace as you have.
[He has thanked her several times over the course of this tumultuous meeting, but it's that particular one that has her blinking and softening her expression.]
... You're welcome. I'm hardly the most graceful individual if past circumstances are any indication— [coughPockycough]
—But there are attempts. I've faced my fair share of arcane dangers in the past few decades so it's made me hardened for better or for worse.
[She's only shown him the smallest fraction of her power and what it's capable of, and told him little of herself beyond a broad overview of her responsibilities and what she does for a living, but like recognizes like— power recognizes power, and no one with such power is ever without their own share of challenges.]
Facing such obstacles is what makes us who we are— as you said, for better or for worse. Personally, I'm inclined to think in your case, it's for the better.
[Perhaps in his, as well, as he does his best to learn from his mistakes, but:]
You always refer to yourself as hardened or difficult, but I've only known you to be kind. Competitive, perhaps. [There's a faint twinkle in his eye as one corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a playful, if tired, smile.] I'll not forget that anytime soon.
[He laughs openly, ducking his head slightly and raising an arm as if to defend himself, but effectively does nothing to stop her assault. It's earned— to a degree.]
I hardly meant it to be rude. It's a trait we happen to share, if you'll recall, but I—
[He catches himself for a moment, clearing his throat before his smile turns just a touch sheepish, his mannerisms bright and boyish once more, but not so much that he averts his gaze. In fact, it remains fixed on her, fond.]
[This is... No, it's not bad, but in light of everything that's happened, Gale's remark has her on a different type of edge. There are times she doesn't notice or rather, chooses not to notice signs. Berna nas teased her for not immediately comprehending when anyone finds her pleasing despite or even because of her difficult traits.
Amelia wants to dismiss it.
But Gale's smile, the friendliness in his eyes that has been gained by her willingness to not turn away is making it harder.
She glances in the other direction.]
I thought that would have been the first warning sign that would give you pause, Gale.
Perhaps if I were a simpler sort of person, it might have been.
[He is many things, he knows, both good and ill, but he is not that. He watches her avert her gaze, and carefully tries to discern if it's because the affection is unwelcome, or if it's simply the result of her not being terribly used to letting people close to her. Even friendship, she'd told him, was a rarity.
He takes care to let his next statement remain somewhat more neutral, though the warmth hasn't left him.]
I think we've both proven that we're the sort of people who like a good challenge. Stubborn to the last. An unchallenged mind quickly grows quite dull.
[A whole year of isolation... She can understand that more than he realizes. In the years following her release from the Witch King, she too kept to herself only viewing people from afar to study the changing times and customs.
This isn't the time to bring that up. In fact, she hasn't shared much of herself at all while Gale had been more than willing to be vulnerable to her.]
... Thank you though. For telling me and showing me your burdens.
[He wouldn't have told her if he hadn't treasured their burgeoning relationship and if he didn't implicitly trust her to not say a word to anyone else. The significance of this is illuminating and humbling. Intimidating, especially in light of how she's kept so much to herself except for that memory fragment in the Vale.]
Even after all that happened and what you're expected to do, you've been very trusting. I haven't done much to earn that but I'm glad you consider me worthy of it.
That's reason enough for me. It may come as a surprise to you, but I've not had terribly many friends, either— at least not lately. Things were different in school, but afterwards, I became so consumed by my work, my ambitions... besides.
[He laughs softly, raising a hand to tap his finger against his temple.]
I like to think I have a good sense about people. I trust you.
It's a simple but profound decoration, enough to knock her out. She bows her head so that her hair drapes and covers the sides of her face so that he can't possibly see how red her face is turning.]
I don't—
["I don't deserve it," she wants to protest but she stops herself and just brings her knees to her chest to rest her forehead on them.
[His smile fades quickly as she turns away and ducks her head; even during the pocky incident, he doesn't recall her doing anything quite like this, though he's sure the fire of competition had something to do with it then.]
I apologize.
[His voice softens, though there's an uncertain note to his voice as he wonders just what it was he'd said that had struck poorly.]
[Her head moves up again and when she looks at the wizard... It's just unmistakably blushing. She quickly moves one hand up to cover some of her face, but it's no use.]
You didn't do anything. I just don't...
[Words are failing her. Her heart is beating. Amelia knows and is immensely touched by this amount of trust from Gale and it's even more overwhelming than any orb of destructive magic.]
Not what he expected, but he feels his own face color slightly in turn.]
I'm beginning to think you're not used to being offered your due of compliments. This, however, is simply the truth. In bits and pieces, you've seen some of the worst of me.
[The orb, the circumstances leading to it making its home within him, that memory in the Vale, even his pettiness at book club.]
Even so, you're still here, offering me your aid and understanding. If that is not worthy of trust, what is?
[One way or another, Amelia manages to calm down. Her hands busy themselves with her hair and what's left is a very awkward silence. It's just been so much and for a person who prides herself in thinking and acting quickly, she's so easily reduced to an insecure and embarrassed woman by this wizard.
Her behavior is puzzling and odd, she knows. And it's because of this and because of everything Gale's entrusted to her, she decides to share something that's like an explanation. ]
... My own teacher was... Well, he isn't human for one. I spent many years with him so I gradually became accustomed to his way with words. They weren't the most sincere.
I hope that might explain a few things about myself.
[He listens, giving a solemn nod as she offers her cautious explanation. So far, he has yet to ask her much about her life back home beyond what was on the surface— curious a creature though he is, when it comes to people's personal lives, he much prefers to let them open up and offer what they will in their own time. Not everyone is so forthcoming as him, and even taking that into consideration, it wasn't so long ago that he had been keeping a great deal about himself quite private until the time was right.
He has no interest in rushing Amelia along, but he is grateful to accept what she offers.]
I believe it does.
['Not human' could mean many things, just as it could back home, but from what little he does know about where she comes from, it still offers a bit of perspective.]
I, on the other hand, rarely say things I don't mean. I can see how that might be a bit much, when you're not used to someone so— genuine.
[Back in the Vale, Amelia had told Gale before the reveal of her memory fragment that she had nothing to hide. It's less so that and more that she had everything to hold onto. Most witches and psychics were aware she was the singular student of the Witch King. Some even understood that it wasn't a desirable position to be in. Even fewer people understood what it was like for those four decades.
She isn't like Gale who has opened up to her in a rather major way. She doesn't trust easily and is guarded when it comes to matters of the heart. To share anything about herself felt pointless, a cry for help when help was long past due. Amelia wants to maintain a veneer of stoicism.
It's served her well in a world of mysterious and finicky beings, self-interested magickind, and ambitious espers. Amelia hadn't expected much to change with a vacation but she's been proven wrong so early on. Through her own actions and interactions, something has slowly been changing within her. It's not immediate but it's there, like a seed sown in her heart the moment she checked in.
Amelia stands ups.]
Either way... I'm glad you trust me. I think you at least deserve a definitive promise on my end though.
[Both of her hands are held out to Gale, offering to help him stand up.]
For instance, I promise that I won't be going around telling anyone about what ails you. Past and present.
[He takes the offered hands, closing his own around them and taking care not to put too much of the burden on her as he gets to his feet— the assistance is certainly appreciated, going a long way to help him maintain his balance, and admittedly, he feels weaker than he would like. Here, further from Mystra's reach, the discomfort the orb has always caused him remains persistent as ever, though it's only now that he realizes it has, perhaps, grown moreso in the time he's been away. A gradual change, but change nonetheless.]
I have no doubt you'll be the soul of discretion. I would hate to cause anyone alarm.
[Once more, he is all warmth, his smile genuine despite the painful display he'd given her only a few short minutes before. Even with the nagging discomfort that he's sure will follow for awhile yet, it is difficult to dwell on the ever-present burden when he still feels so deeply touched by the offer she had made.
Back on his feet in full, his hold on her hands remains, lingering.]
Even if a solution cannot be found... I do want you to know that it means a great deal to me that you offered. I have exhausted my resources in Faerun, trying to find a way to undo what I've done. I accept the consequences of my actions, but that you want to help me— that, I will not forget, regardless of the result.
[Amelia doesn't let go of Gale's hands as he stands up until she gives them a reassuring squeeze and draws back. His warm and genuine smile does something strange to her, making her heart twist. She bites her lower lip and casts her gaze down again.
She shouldn't be projecting.]
I'll see what I can do. After all that you told me, I have to at least try.
[And lord knows, that Amelia is good at trying and trying, and surviving despite it all.]
[HELLO MR. NERD WIZARD. Today Kaveh has ventured to your floor!! Specifically, he's digging around through the books--Mehrak floats behind him, holding a small stack of them in the glowing green light it projects, while Kaveh tucks a few more into his arms. Currently, he's muttering to himself as he looks between two different books, brow furrowed.]
[Gale has become quite comfortable on this floor, despite the rather spooky atmosphere— it makes it rather unique among libraries, he thinks— and has grown accustomed to browsing the shelves for new offerings. There's more between this and the 'standard' library than any mortal could read in a lifetime, he's certain, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to try.
Today, however, when he heads out into the corridor to peruse, it seems he's not the only one with that in mind. It's Mehrak that catches his attention first— a familiar, perhaps?— but he offers a smile as he proceeds to interject.]
Looking for anything in particular? Perhaps I can be of assistance.
[Fortunately, Kaveh is not so caught up in his browsing that he's completely oblivious to Gale's presence, which spares him from jumping violently and knocking over piles of books; he only turns when Gale speaks, though, greeting him with a smile and a nod as Mehrak beeps cheerfully.]
Oh--sorry, I hope I'm not in your way. I was just trying to make up my mind, since I don't want to squirrel away too many of these at once.
[Unlike SOME PEOPLE (Alhaitham) who just have SHELVES AND SHELVES OF BOOKS (Alhaitham)]
I was looking for something for leisure--if it's good enough, I thought I'd recommend it to Amelia in the future. [Book club!! He knows she already has a list, but he likes to help.]
Not in the least— you've nothing to apologize for! I'm always glad to see someone new has found their way to our little corner of the hotel. It has a certain charm, don't you think?
[Dark, spooky ambiance and all. It gives the place character.]
I'm sure you'll find something that suits your needs here. Of course, you know Ms. Steinbeck— I do remember seeing you during book club, but I don't believe we had the chance to speak directly. Your points were quite well-argued. It's Kaveh, isn't it?
[CHARM...... it's not really Kaveh's vibe, honestly, but he doesn't want to be rude, so he smiles.]
It certainly has its own unique sense of character. That's one of my favorite parts about this place--the extent to which each floor is so different. [That much is wholly true.
He looks briefly surprised that Gale remembers him--it takes a second, but then recognition dawns on his face, and he thumps the books he's holding against his palm.]
Ah, yes! Gale, wasn't it? I remember now--you and Sumina talked about character growth for that second discussion topic, if I recall. [Right, right. It's all coming back to him now.
...
...
Wait, wasn't this also the guy who...] You hated Darcy, didn't you?
[At least Kaveh doesn't know about Gamelia (yet), so that little cutoff only gets a politely questioning tilt of his head--but Kaveh is courteous enough to let it go when Gale breezes past it, because he is not Alhaitham (derogatory) or Cyno (affectionate) and thus has a modicum of social grace.]
Well, it's very nice to meet you properly. Is your room on this floor, then?
Indeed! It was admittedly a bit jarring at first, but I found myself quite intrigued by the ambiance. Our spectral neighbors here are quite congenial, as well, though I might not have taken a room here had I known about them ahead of time.
[He should have guessed, though. The place looks haunted.]
I've found all sorts of books here that don't appear in the hotel's library proper, which I find especially interesting.
I do— or something like them, at least. They're far more personable than any ghosts I've ever met.
[This floor hardly feels haunted at all!]
Occasionally startling, perhaps, but friendly enough. Glad to see they haven't lost their love of reading after death, although given the nature of this place, it's hard to say if they were ever truly alive or have simply always been this way.
[ On Christmas Day, an impeccably wrapped present is delivered to Gale’s suite with a note: ]
Dear Gale,
In the spirit of celebrating these winter holidays at the hotel, I hope you enjoy this present. I’ve found this to be a little more low-key than our standard quill, and while it lacks that certain dramatic flair that I suspect wizards might enjoy, it is rather easy to bring around and keep in one’s pouch or pocket.
Best wishes, SH.
P.S. I will be checking out for a few days to tend to matters at home. If you’ve need of me, please feel free to leave any messages with the front desk.
[This is now his favored pen from here on out! He will be relying on it in his research, and Sumina will see him out and about and writing in his journal with it on the daily. 💖]
[It didn't feel right to beckon the new year separately and quietly so Amelia took it upon herself to suggest to Gale that they greet it together. Normally around this time, the witch would pay her respects to the supernatural creatures that lived in Blackgale and then end the night with friends by the lakeside. Every other odd year, she might do something different such as going to a glamorous party with Berna or at a seedy and colorful bar with Michael and Adam.
This is going to be a very different year.
After dressing in a white sweater and jeans, Amelia makes her way over to Gale's room. One hand has a basket that contains two bottles: one a festive champagne and the other, a fizzy non-alcoholic apple cider. There is something about the latter that makes her think of home and how her students would gift her bottles of cider before winter break. It's something she wants to share with Gale.
(And hidden beneath, a small treat for Tara. Gotta pay her proper respects.)
[Gale never needs any persuading when it comes to spending time together, and he was more than happy to add on to Amelia's suggestion by offering to host for the evening— it was an easy excuse to put the small kitchen he had in the partial replica of his tower to good use, and it's been so long since he's had the opportunity to host anyone that he finds himself quite excited to do so now. Tara, of course, was also thrilled to know they would be having company, and when the knock comes at the door, she looks up from the spot where she's been curled up in front of the fireplace, wings folded, eager to greet their guest.
He doesn't keep Amelia waiting long; a few moments after she knocks, the door opens to reveal him wearing a warm, inviting smile in addition to a sweater and pair of trousers that are decidedly not robes, but somewhat emulate the style of the outfit she'd helped him put together some days earlier.]
Amelia! Please, please, come in—
[He steps back, gesturing to usher her in. Though she's been there before, the circumstances were quite different.]
[His smile turns just the slightest bit bashful at her observation, but he can't help but be pleased that she'd noticed— and while he might not be certain of what would be considered fashionable in her world and time, he had found the combination he'd settled on aesthetically pleasing, so he could only hope others would feel so, as well.]
I thought I might try something, yes. I don't believe I'll be giving up my robes entirely anytime soon, but these are rather comfortable. I thought to draw inspiration from what you found for me and thought these might be suitable.
["He spent an hour agonizing over what to wear," Tara informs her cheerfully, getting up from her spot in front of the fire to stretch and spread her wings before trotting over and looking up at the visiting witch with fondness. "Good evening, Ms. Steinbeck! It is a pleasure, as always. I, for the record, am very fond of fish. How sweet of you to think of me!"
Gale lets out a good-natured huff as he shakes his head at Tara's interjection, reaching out to gingerly take Amelia's basket from her so that he can set it down somewhere.]
Very kind of you; thank you, on both counts. We'll have plenty to eat to go along with these, as well. It seems only right to ring in the start of a new year with good food, good drink, and good company.
Looks like we're all set for the evening then. First...
[Before Gale sets down the basket, Amelia reaches inside to take a glass jar (with a decorative ribbon tied around the lid) filled to the brim with hundreds of tiny silvery fishes, no bigger than half of a finger.]
[Gale cannot help but smile warmly as Tara's eyes light up and she arches her back before circling Amelia's legs, rubbing against them with her tail waving contentedly, then coming to sit with her paws neatly in front of her.
"You have my thanks, Ms. Steinbeck! What a generous gift! Mr. Dekarios, if you wouldn't mind assisting...?"
She trails off, but Gale doesn't need her too elaborate, chuckling as he sets the basket on the table and holds a hand out for the jar, happy to assist in gingerly removing the lid and lowering it so that Tara can help herself. She purrs loud enough to be heard from where they stand, and she daintily spears one of the tiny fishes with her claws and proceeds to eat it, closing her eyes.
"Oh, divine! You have exquisite taste, Ms. Steinbeck."
Gale takes Amelia's hand with a look of amusement before leaning in to press a kiss to the side of her mouth, greeting her properly at last.]
I think she'll be quite occupied with those for some time.
[Upon receiving Tara's thanks and approval, Amelia gives a relieved sort of smile and then a bigger one as Gale kisses her. She wonders if her face will start to ache from all this warmth.
She squeezes Gale's hand as she brushes some of her hair behind her ear.]
We'll leave her be then. I'm glad she approves of her New Year's Eve snack.
So are we in front of the fire or out on your balcony? Either one is fine, but it'd be pleasant to start the countdown in the open air.
Trying to win points with Tara is very clever of you, indeed.
[He's mostly teasing, knowing Amelia was simply being herself in this regard, but there's no denying that Tara acts as though she'd raised him herself, and he knows her to be very invested in his love life, perhaps inappropriately so. Then again, who's to say what's an appropriate level of investment for a tressym?
He squeezes her hand in return, then gently tugs as he starts to take a few steps backwards towards the balcony, encouraging her to come along with him.]
Absolutely the balcony. My favorite place in the entire world— or a replica of it, and I can think of nothing lovelier than starting the new year with you beneath the stars.
[New year, new relationship moving forward. Amelia follows Gale and takes a deep breath to take in the cool simulated night air.]
You know, if things had been different, I might have dropped by back home to spend my New Year there instead of here. We've been here for months now and... Well.
[He knows she has at least a few good friends to look in on, students she might like to check in with back home. Amelia is one of those who is fortunate enough to be able to go back without it being potentially catastrophic, and while he would hardly begrudge her a trip home, he's glad she's opted to stay here with him.]
You made it sound as though you had a few traditions you might have liked to revisit there had you gone, but I quite like having you to myself.
[He gives her a particularly cheeky smile as he gestures towards the luxuriously upholstered bench on the balcony, releasing her hand only to take a seat and pat the cushion beside him before extending his hand in offering.]
[With her hand in his, she makes sits down and makes herself comfortable.]
Depending on the year, I spent the eve either in glamor and finery with a fellow witch, Berna, or at the most crowded and seedy bar imaginable with my other friends, Adam and Michael.
Basically, none of them allowed me to be alone during New Year's Eve.
[Amelia has some really good friends, few that they are.]
So if anything, me indulging you would satisfy their conditions for me.
[Very good friends indeed. He entwines his fingers with hers as she sits, raising their joined hands so that he can press a lingering kiss against the back of hers before lowering them to rest between their legs.]
They're quite right not to do so— no one should usher in a new year alone. It sounds like at least in that regard, they would approve of all this.
[He is, admittedly, curious to know more about her friends, curious to know what they would think of him and their involvement. He has always cared a little too much about other people's opinions.]
I can easily envision you in finery, but it is difficult to imagine Amelia Steinbeck, witch and educator, in a bar of low repute. You must stick out tremendously.
You'd be correct. If anything they'd be in awe of what I've gotten myself into.
[They'd be in awe that she's found a person who showers her with affection from the grandest of gestures to the little touches and kisses like the one on the back of her hand just now. And even more surprising is how she's comfortable with it all.]
And being a redhead will do that. But those kinds of bars are... Colorful. Fun even. It's mostly for people-watching with Adam and Michael. We'll play board games or card games, sometimes other guests will get involved... It makes for good memories.
[She leans her back against the seat with a soft sigh.]
Michael is also a witch. He's older than I am and stressed the importance of how I need to collect as many good memories as possible to make up for the years before and in case the years ahead become difficult.
I've been to my share over the years— there is a certain spirit to them that one can't find elsewhere, and you do meet a colorful collection of people. I do see the draw, even if it's difficult to imagine. Time well spent with good friends does make for memories well worth keeping.
[He squeezes her hand gently in agreement, always glad to hear about another piece of her life back home, another one of the many bits that made her who she was.]
I do think your friend has the right idea. Magickind in your world being as long-lived as they are, and with such an important burden to bear on their shoulders... having memories of such moments will bring you light during darker times, remind you that there are things worth fighting for, large and small. Hope is not to be underestimated.
[Amelia nods solemnly. Hope was probably the only thing that kept her going since she became a witch. She would have died without stubbornly holding onto it even if she didn't recognize it as such at the time.]
He and Adam both were pivotal to my life after I finished my training with my teacher. Adam is a normal human; he has no magic and nothing particularly remarkable except for his upstanding character. He's in the know about magickind for various reasons, but he's one of the most trustworthy people I know.
[... You know, she knew she almost forgot to mention something important. This is one of the follies of being guarded and selective with personal information.
Amelia coughs lightly.]
For full disclosure, Michael was my ex. Ex-boyfriend. [She wrinkles her nose and brow, not really liking how that sounded and unsure of how Gale will take to the term.]
My previous paramour. Someone I used to— Well, I think you get the picture.
[Wow that was weird to lay out during a date, good job Amelia]
[It's good to know that she hasn't been alone all this time, that she has friends she can trust and depend on, people who have become fixtures in her life after her teacher's departure. Though she has not shared every detail with him, it's been made clear enough that her time studying was unhappy— the difficulty she'd once had in accepting even the gentlest compliment from him had been proof enough.
His brow furrows slightly as she cuts herself off and proceeds to fumble through her attempts to finish her statement, but he does rather get the picture before she gets to the end. Even the term "boyfriend" was clear enough given the context, even if it's not a term he's terribly familiar with.
It may not be typical date conversation, but she certainly has his interest.]
You're still friends?
[He sounds genuinely curious, rather than put out, because he's never had the opportunity to experience such a thing. His parting with Mystra had been nothing short of devastating, brought him to his absolute lowest point— though in fairness, one was not typically 'friends' with a goddess to begin with.]
Not that you shouldn't be! [He's quick to follow-up, doing a bit of fumbling of his own.] I've just not seen it done before, at least not firsthand. Of course you would have been with someone before now; you're a very singular woman. I would have been surprised otherwise— but I've spoken of my... romantic past with you when it's been relevant. You should feel comfortable doing the same. Or not!
[He puts a hand up to accompany his sharp correction.]
I would never presume to be owed information regarding the details of— [He cuts himself off, sighing, then gives her a sheepish smile.] Well, I think you get the picture.
[... Okay, that response was very endearing to her. Amelia has to use her free hand to muffle the giggle that threatens to spill from her mouth. It's one of relief and nervousness that she didn't realize she had.]
I think I do. Get the picture, that is.
[She scoots closer to Gale so that she can lean against his shoulder; a way for both of them to settle into the closeness of each other.]
Yes, Michael and I are still friends. We both agreed that we were better as such. If anything, I think I could have told you a little earlier but it did slip my mind.
[He automatically lifts their joined hands to adjust as she moves closer to him, welcoming the warmth and closeness that she offers, and gives a sigh of relief as he leans in to rest his chin against the top of her head for a moment, grateful that she seemed to find his response entertaining more than anything else.]
I do try. I'm quite glad to hear I've succeeded.
[She's offered plenty of distraction of her own, whether she intends to or not.]
I'm glad that you've been able to come to an arrangement that works for you, as well. Trustworthy friends are too valuable to let go of, if one can avoid having to do so.
[There is a small twinge of something in his voice, not quite jealousy, but just the tiniest note of uncertainty. The concept may be new to him, but he could never begrudge Amelia for holding onto someone who means something to her. If he'd ever been fortunate enough to part so amicably with someone, he likely would have done the same.]
[There's someone else she hasn't told Gale about, someone whose significance he already has encountered in the Vale. She opens her mouth about to speak up—
(But then her heart stings when she thinks about their smile, her gut twists with guilt over surrounding herself with Gale's warmth because it's like she's almost, almost able to forget about...)
Amelia swallows and exhales; the shakiness can almost go unnoticed.]
Making friends has never been one of my greatest strengths but the ones I do have... I'm grateful to them for making sure I'm not entirely hopeless. I think they'd all like you, Gale. Berna, especially.
[There's a small shift in her that he does pick up on, momentary though it is, and he offers another squeeze of her hand as wordless reassurance. It's simple enough to attribute it to the confession she offers next.]
It sounds to me like you've done quite well for yourself. Quality over quantity; the people you've chosen to surround yourself with sound like precisely the sort of people you need.
[He feels a twinge of something he can't quite name in his own chest when he says that; perhaps he really is being selfish, wanting her to stay here rather than go home to visit. Dwelling on that too long seems dangerous, considering the uncertainty of their future.]
I'll admit... I've always cared a little too much about what other people think of me, so I'm certainly glad to hear you think so, but more than that, they're important to you. While your opinion of me ought to be the only one I lend any weight to, I can't help but hope you're right.
Well... I can certainly understand that. I'd want the people in your life to have a decent opinion about me. That's why I made sure to give Tara a gift, for instance.
[And she supposes that Astarion's opinion of her had improved since their first meeting which wasn't a great start.]
We've been here a few months and have met a good number of people. And I want you to know that ending the year and greeting the new one with you wasn't something I imagined.
[Amelia feels her cheeks grow warm.]
So... I'm grateful that you're part of my life now, Gale.
I'll have you know that Tara is already quite fond of you, but that gift of yours will certainly cement your place in her heart. She's a discerning old girl, but she's spoken quite highly of you.
[Yes, he has discussed her with his cat good friend Tara, who has quite honestly been thrilled to see him opening his heart to new possibilities. Long overdue, he supposes; he's done more than his share of sulking and nursing a broken heart, and what he feels now, even though their relationship is yet young— it makes what came before pale in comparison, because more than anything, it's real. He feels seen, and the further he gets from his time with Mystra, the more he realizes that he had never been seen as a partner, but a pet to be kept.]
I can't say it was something I expected, either— but I have never been so pleasantly surprised.
[He drops his head to press a kiss against her temple, his lips curling into another fond smile. Meanwhile, a Mage Hand delivers a tray with a pair of glasses and Amelia's basket to the table beside their bench, causing him to raise an eyebrow when he notices— he certainly hadn't done that, nor was he responsible for the delivery of the charcuterie tray that followed.
Tara, apparently, was intent on making sure they enjoyed their evening thoroughly. He chuckles softly, closing his eyes and taking a brief moment to bury his face in Amelia's hair.]
To say that I'm grateful to have the chance to be in your life doesn't feel like enough... with you, I forget myself.
[She's getting used to the small displays of affection that Gale gives her so freely in their moments alone but simultaneously it still feels jarring after being so long without something like kisses to her hands and head, hand holding, and so on. Their relationship is so green but he was more ready to be engulfed in this than she was.
Ah, thank you Mage Hand from Tara. Before Amelia can reach for the bottles and glasses, she stays where she is so Gale can continue to embrace her. Up close, the magic in her hair hums, a faint sensation that he may be able to pick up.
He says that he could forget himself, to be lost in her. Concerningly, she can almost relate.
(But forgetting was hard.)]
Try not to forget yourself before getting a drop of drink, please.
[She says that with playful sternness before reaching up to give Gale a pat on the head.]
[It's not the first time he's felt latent magic while simply being in her presence; she was powerful enough that anyone sensitive to the arcane would be able to pick up on it if they kept themselves open, but even so, this was different, a more deliberate hum that while faint, seems to resonate with that particular moment, something that makes his smile tug slightly to one side.
He laughs sharply as she gives him that mock-patronizing pat; it never fails to amuse him when she takes that particular tone with him, especially since he's been on the receiving end of her sternness in earnest in the past.]
That's right, we're meant to be celebrating! It would be an awful shame if I were to get ahead of myself. Embarrassing, really.
[He's able to have a bit of a laugh at his own expense! He hasn't entirely forgotten, and he releases her so that she can reach for the glasses as planned, standing so that he can claim the charcuterie tray that had been so thoughtfully delivered and set it somewhere a bit more convenient for the pair of them.]
Is celebrating the passing of a year common where you're from? Different regions handle it in their own way in Faerun, but along the Sword Coast, it's largely celebrated by feasting and drink— something all of our festivals seem to have in common, I think. People will gladly take any excuse to indulge!
It is. There are different New Year traditions and some cultures have more specific dates to celebrate, but by and large it is globally welcomed.
[Amelia takes the glasses and the bottle of fizzy apple cider from the basket. First cider, then champagne.]
Aside from feasting and drinking, however, many people use the last few days of the old to reflect on what was accomplished or not in the past year. In a way, everyone shares their goals, hopes, and dreams for what they wish to achieve once we shed off the last day.
[He adjusts the positioning of the table on his side of the bench, moving it to sit before them so that they can easily share its contents while sitting together and enjoying the view. The charcuterie board he sets on it afterwards is quite elaborate, and while magic had sped up the process a bit, it's clear he'd spent quite a bit of time on it. There are no less than three salami roses.]
That does seem prudent. A way of realigning oneself for the year to come, while perhaps learning a bit from the one we leave behind.
[Ideally. He settles himself beside her again, watching her take up the cider with interest.]
I can hardly say I've had a typical year— neither of us have, in fact, but all the more reason to reflect upon it. I don't feel as though I've quite finished making the necessary steps, but I will say I feel myself to be a very different Gale than I was a year ago. Then, even the idea of venturing outside of my tower was...
[He trails off and shakes his head, a wry smile quirking to one side.]
Truly unthinkable. Little did I know how much awaited me beyond those walls.
[While pouring him some fizzy cider, she listens to Gale, conscious of the fact that he's had to deal with a lot, to say the least.]
You've had a tumultuous time. [Between the orb, the parasite, going on an adventure to address both... Amelia hands him his glass.]
I'd be surprised if you hadn't changed to some degree based on those circumstances.
As for myself, truthfully, I think I've managed a consistent life routine after becoming a teacher. Save for the supernatural mishap that's bound to happen, I am proud to say that a majority of my students who take my advanced course have been able to pass their major exams. My goal for the next class is to raise their average scores and teach them better studying strategies.
[He takes the offered glass from her with a tip of his head to offer his appreciation, his gaze softening as she looks back on her own accomplishments. It takes effort, but he manages to withhold a chuckle, even if it would have been fond— he somehow doesn't think she would appreciate it in this exact moment.]
You have every right to be proud. I only wish that all teachers were as dedicated to their work and the students in their care as you are.
[There are many who are passionate about what they do, who have chosen it for the right reasons, but plenty of others who have become disenchanted with education and do their students a disservice by not offering their best.]
An admirable goal, as well, especially that last bit— I've found that advanced classes often see at least a few gifted or voracious readers who never quite developed those study habit on account of being able to comprehend the material and retain information well after a first pass. Eventually, a time comes where even the most dedicated reader must put in a bit of perspiration.
No doubt I will— I've seen it on occasion, though it wasn't quite so bubbly when I had the chance to try it.
[That part is new, but he's certainly interested! The scent alone is appealing, and he raises his glass to his lips to sample it, appearing to give it some genuine thought.]
That is nice— I can think of plenty of people who might complain that the lack of alcohol does it a disservice, but I disagree.
[He's a lightweight, anyway. He has a great deal of appreciation for drinks that offer a bit of variety, despite his deep fondness for wine.]
I'm glad you like it. It's a perfect drink for parties especially when you have mixed company of adults and younger people. Festive and refreshing without having to worry about getting carried away.
But that's what the champagne is for. [Points to the other heavier bottle.]
[He laughs warmly, leaning against the cushioned back of the bench as she points out her other offering.]
That one, I am familiar with— or so I've recently learned. It would be grouped with other wines back home, but your lot call it by a different name. Either way, I've an appreciation for it, and it does seem perfect for such a celebration.
[He lets out a thoughtful hum as he helps himself to another sip of his cider, his gaze moving to look out across the night skyline of Waterdeep, a glimpse of the home that he'd not properly set foot in for ages now, since before his isolation.]
As we wait for midnight to approach, we're meant to consider what we wish to achieve in the coming year, yes?
[His attention is drawn back to her immediately. What would he like the year ahead to look like? It's a rather serious question, but he doesn't find it to be troubling or unwelcome in any way— he is, after all, quite serious about her. He would never have come forward with his feelings if he were not, hesitant as he was to heap his burdens upon her, keenly aware that asking someone to care for him under his circumstances, even if he was determined to overcome them.]
That is a subject I am always amenable to.
[His voice is warm and optimistic; the subject of them as a couple is still new, but one he undeniably enjoys, happy to have been granted the opportunity to become as close to her as he has.]
I do have some thoughts about that, yes. Given that you raised the subject, was there something on your mind you wished to share first?
[Amelia looks solemn as she sorts out her thoughts about him. About them. It didn't feel so long ago when they first met and she regarded this man with caution and restraint. She hadn't thought of anything beyond treating him as she did with everyone else; sternly, firmly, and no-nonsense. But it hadn't worked. Gale spent the following days smiling at her, regarding her with growing warmth and adoration, and wanting her as she was.
It was like an encapsulation of her time with Briar but it came swiftly like a whirlwind of emotion that swept the witch into Gale's gravity.
What if it ends the same way? What if I end up alone again?
She isn't ignoring the major obstacles that could tear them apart. No, it stared at her straight in the face every day, taunting her with another potential heartbreak, another reason to steel her heart against everything good so she could exist for however many centuries she had left.
... But hadn't she just said she would need the memories? Although her love for Briar was like clutching onto a rose with hundreds of thorns, it didn't make her time with him less beautiful.
This thing between them was already such a beautiful bloom.
Amelia takes off her glasses and sets them down on the table before looking resolutely into Gale's eyes.]
For the coming year, I want you to know that... I don't want to be afraid. I won't be afraid of what we have between us.
Remember what I said? About how there's no one else I'd rather struggle with than you?
[He meets her gaze, his own warm and steadfast, and reaches to gently take one of her hands between his, resting them against her knee.]
How could I forget?
[His voice is low, soft, the subject itself a delicate one. He's never forgotten that scene he'd heard from her past, never forgotten the way it brought her to tears, and he has held each and every part of herself that she has been willing to share close to his heart, each reveal something to be cherished. All that she had shared was a mark of her trust in him, and he does not intend to betray or squander that trust, but hold onto it tightly, for dear life.]
I feel quite the same. I can think of no one I would rather struggle with, and it is my wish to be worthy of that.
[They are both, he knows, all too aware of the challenges that lie ahead, the obstacles they may face, but all of that seems so small when compared to the way he feels when he's with her, the way she makes his heart beat fast when she smiles.]
I hope to show you that you have no reason to be afraid. You have gone far too long without being cherished as you ought. I mean to set that to rights.
[When Gale puts it like that, Amelia can believe it, more than she ever thought was possible. He acknowledged her loneliness and just being with him made her believe that maybe she didn't have to live the way she did anymore. Maybe there was a life outside of mourning and trying to live up to the legacy of an impossibly pure love.
Briar had given her a taste of what it meant to be cherished. Gale was promising and already showing her in every word and action that he would do so with his entire being.
He is a risk worth taking into the next year. She won't be afraid.]
One day, you'll know me more, read a few more chapters of my story. But for now...
[She lifts one of his hands and kisses the inner side of his wrist.]
... I'll focus on the story of us. That's my resolution for the new year.
[He echoes her with an experimental note in his voice, the corners of his mouth turning upwards into another fond smile when she had pressed her lips to the inside of his wrist, curling his fingers to brush against her cheek, his thumb briefly coming to rest against her her jaw.]
I rather like the sound of that.
[Especially given the important role that stories play in both their lives.]
However long it takes to get to know your full story, Amelia, I am willing to wait— I am grateful that you have entrusted me with several chapters already. I, too, plan to focus on the tale we will write together. I have a very good feeling that it's not going to be the least bit dull.
[He smirks, faintly.]
Is it cheating if my resolution is the same as yours?
I can agree to those terms. I may have a few other goals in mind for the coming year, but at this very moment, there are none that matter more to me than this.
[His thumb brushes against the curve of her cheek as he leans in to press a kiss against her forehead to seal their agreement.
Time passes quickly, as he's found it so often does when they're together. They enjoy their cider, sample their food and discuss daily goings-on, chat about the upcoming book club; he shares some of what he's come across in his recent research as he looks into not only magic theory from other worlds, but also uses the hotel's resources to acquire tomes that would have been impossible for him to obtain in Faerun. Nothing to help him meet his immediate goal just yet, but fascinating nonetheless, clearly excited to share such finds with her.
Eventually, with his now-empty glass in hand, he catches a glimpse of the clock sitting on the table just inside the doors leading out to the balcony, and for a moment appears genuinely surprised.]
[It's true what they say; time flies by when you're having fun. Amelia had let the minutes slip by and would have missed the stroke of midnight had it not been for Gale noticing first. She moves to grab the champagne bottle by the neck.]
Time for this then. Or rather, I'll open it up when it's midnight. How many minutes do we have left?
Two minutes, from the looks of it. Any last-minute resolutions you care to make?
[He's teasing, naturally, but sets his glass down on the table so that it can be filled when the time comes.]
So, we toast to the new year at midnight— I may have done a bit of research to prepare myself for this evening and found there's something else traditionally done at midnight, as well.
[With a raised brow she sits back down and lets the bottle be. She has a pretty good idea of what he's referring to. Stretching her arms out in front of her, she leisurely gives Gale a sideways glance.
It's been another engaging evening with one another and it promises an end to the old and a welcome to the new. They may very well just head to sleep right after.
[He's certain she must know exactly what he's speaking of and proceeds to humor her with a growing smile, raising a brow.]
I read that it's customary to exchange a kiss for good luck in the coming year.
[It seems there are a lot of traditions that include kissing around this time of year, although he certainly can't complain. It's not as though the two of them need an excuse; they do plenty of kissing all on their own without any assistance, but there's still something exciting about having someone to celebrate these things with.]
You know me— I aim to respect and honor other cultures as I have the opportunity to learn of them in this place.
[He leans forward to meet her, amusement and something akin to mischief alight in his eyes. Even if they're technically supposed to kiss at midnight, it can't hurt to be extra thorough, can it? Ensure they have all angles covered, as it were. Perhaps they'll have even better luck as a result.
He reaches to lightly brush some of her vibrant hair back from her face, his palm coming to rest warmly against her cheek before he tips his head to press his lips against hers, slightly parted and just barely over the line of being chaste, and already he can taste the bright notes of the cider they had been drinking. He feels his pulse quicken; it always does, and he knows full well how easily a kiss can run away with the both of them. Often they are saved by having other places to be or exchanging a kiss goodnight before parting ways, but tonight, there are no such limitations.]
[Amelia accepts his kiss gratefully. Early or not, she's not going to argue and folds herself into its warmth.
Her hands move to Gale's shoulders and when his lip part slightly, she takes that as an invitation to taste him back, but softly and playfully. Eyes closed, she moves closer, body pressed against him and arms fully wrapping him in an embrace.
Looking back on this, Amelia will remember the taste of apples between their lips. She'll remember that the clock struck midnight but she neither notices nor cares, focusing instead on building up the warmth growing between them. She manages to not deepen the kiss (surely, they won't get too carried away) and keeps it on a level of frustrating gentleness.
[He exhales softly against the kiss as it breaks, though he never pulls back entirely, inclined to stay as close as he can for as long as she'll allow. He, too, had missed the clock striking midnight— somewhere in the back of his mind, he might have distantly heard it, but his focus had been entirely elsewhere.]
Happy New Year, Amelia.
[He almost leans in to steal a second kiss, but is startled into turning his attention elsewhere when there's a loud whistling followed by an explosive bang somewhere behind him. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, just in time to see the sparks of fireworks beginning to dissipate before another shoots upwards from somewhere below the balcony, and he laughs softly to himself, shaking his head.]
I thought I'd told Tara I decided against those. I was worried it might be too much. [He, himself, is often too much.] Apparently, she had her own ideas.
[Also startled, her head whips around to watch as the fireworks are set off. The colorful lights reflect in her eyes, highlighting the wonder within.]
I guess she wanted a riveting start to the year... Good on her.
[Internally, she's feeling giddy from the kiss and had hoped Gale would steal a second one... But how about a drink first? Amelia takes the champagne bottle and uses magic to easily take off the cork. With a small pop she raises the bottle at Gale and pours the champagne into their glasses.]
I'm not leaving yet, so let's have our first drink of the year. Cheers.
[The fireworks continue, shapes and starbursts in every color imaginable lighting up the conjured sky, but even with such a spectacle before them, Gale's gaze remains fixed on her, the look of wonder in her eyes enough to flood his chest with warmth— he's glad Tara had taken things into her own paws when he'd second-guessed himself.]
She certainly gave us quite a show— I'll have to thank her. She seems quite invested in ensuring we have a memorable evening.
[It would have been memorable regardless, he feels, but the fireworks certainly don't hurt. He watches with both interest and amusement as Amelia uncorks the bottles and fills their glasses, his heart light as he takes up his own and offers her to it in toast.]
Cheers— to the year ahead.
[He smiles warmly and takes a sip, and averts his gaze for but a moment as he searches for the words that he'd been considering all night— since long before her arrival, in fact. He exhales steadily, clearing his throat softly as he turns his gaze back towards her, somber despite the smile that remains on his lips.]
As for that bit about you not leaving... I wanted to ask you about that, in fact. I was wondering if you... might like to stay the night? [There's a note of uncertainty in his voice, as though he's not sure how such a question will be received, but he's quick to follow up before she gets the wrong idea. Well, perhaps not the wrong idea, but such an idea would only be one of several options.] Nothing need happen that you aren't ready for, I only— don't wish to start the new year by having to say goodnight to you.
[Amelia had been taking a generous sip from her glass as Gale presented his question. Her expression is neutral as she registers the somber look in his gaze that contrasts with the smile he gives her.
. . .
It should be troubling, perhaps, how she doesn't answer right away and how it's hard to tell at that moment what thoughts are running through her head. Her answer comes in the form of moving closer to Gale again so that they're shoulder to shoulder.]
We'll have to say it eventually.
[She says it so plainly that it would be easy to take the words at face value. But if Gale is truly smart, he'll recall that she said something similar during their evening at the ball when everything was laid bare.
[Cheeky indeed. The thoughtful silence does worry him, at first, but those words stir something in his heart, remind him of that night they had first kissed— he hasn't forgotten a single moment of it, and he doubts she has, either. Though he cannot quite decipher where she stands, he feels that fluttering of anticipation, the warm brush of her shoulder against his arm almost answer enough in itself, though part of him is afraid to presume he knows her that well, hesitant to make assumptions when she has shown him that her heart is a delicate thing to be handled with care.
He lowers his glass after helping himself to a generous sip of his own, turning away from the ongoing fireworks to lean in and press another soft kiss against her lips, this one accompanied by the bright taste and scent of champagne, cupping the side of her face with his hand as though it were second nature by now. It may as well have been.]
Perhaps, but I would much rather say good morning.
[A far more confident response than he'd been able to offer her that first night. It has been mere weeks, but he knows full well now where he stands with her.]
[Unable to maintain her cool facade, Amelia smiles into Gale's lips, enjoying the lingering taste of champagne. His need to please her and handle her feelings with care is welcome as it is endearing. But even more endearing is when he has the confidence to say that so smoothly.
Her free hand reaches up to trace Gale's chin with her fingers and she draws back slightly. Right now, there are no burdens of the past on her mind and no fear of the uncertain future. And it's not even the Emerald Witch who gazes fondly into the eyes belonging to Gale of Waterdeep.
No, she's just Amelia and he's just Gale.]
I'll stay tonight, Gale. As for what happens...
[Well, just let her have another sip of champagne, set the glass aside, and focus completely on giving Gale another kiss, this time with an invitation with parted lips and champagne fresh on her tongue, as if to tell him, drink.]
[His heart practically leaps into his throat as she answers him at last, but even that euphoric moment is nothing compared to what he feels when she leans up to kiss him with such focus and intensity that it is almost dizzying. Blindly, he sets his own glass aside and eagerly accepts her wordless but very plain invitation.
He feels his breath catch as he parts his own lips and tastes her with the tip of his tongue; he's unsure of when the fingers of his free hand had found their way into her hair, but they are tangled there now as he pours himself into that kiss, intent on letting her know precisely how much he burns for her, body and mind.
I'm in love with you.
He feels it with every fiber of his being, but even with all that's been said and done up until now, he fears it might be too much— but if he cannot tell her just yet, he will do all he can to show her, and he makes a soft, muted noise against her lips as his hand falls away from her face and comes to the small of her back, fingers curling into her sweater so that he can pull her closer.]
Thank you.
[He all but whispers it against the curve of her lips.]
[The words may not come easily, but she hopes that her actions and touch can convey it tonight. She knows that her problem is different from Gale's; having been without affection for so long, she struggled to accept what good there was in the world and that anyone could have it for someone so void and empty such as herself.
Gale was so, so, good but life was equally unkind to him. He had been abandoned by his goddess and had few true friends like her and yet he wanted to give and give.
He made her feel in ways that weren't possible. He made her want to give back and to show him that he was someone wonderful outside of his title and magic.
When he pulls away from their eager kiss and draws her closer with his hand on her back, Amelia shivers, gathering her thoughts. What to do next? Will it come back to her naturally? Would he...? She glances down, almost shy.]
We're... Not going to sleep out here on the balcony, right? It'd be a shame... [And here, her cheeks start to burn even if her voice is measured.]
[He exhales and laughs all at once, even as she averts her gaze, and despite the heat of their kiss, his touch is careful and incredibly soft as he lightly brushes a stray lock of hair back from her brow, shaking his head.]
That would be a terrible shame, wouldn't it? Of course not— I have a much better idea.
[The remaining food, the glasses, all of that can wait until the morning to be tidied up, assuming Tara doesn't get to it before him regardless— but it's clear that she has left them to have their privacy as the fireworks have slowed to a stop, and barring any dire circumstances, they'll not have to worry about interruption.
It would be a simple enough matter to teleport them to their ultimate destination, but doing so in this particular moment lacks the proper poetry, and instead, he tips her chin up with his index finger to steal another kiss before he proceeds to lift her upwards, sweeping an arm beneath her legs with the other around her shoulders so that he can hold her close to his chest as he starts towards the double doors that lead back to his sitting room.]
[He laughs, though it's cut short as she whispers against his ear, color flooding his face even as his confident smile remains, feeling a shiver running straight through him— between his shoulders and down to the very base of his spine, because that is certainly new, though he would be lying if he'd said he hadn't imagined her using her voice in such a way before now.]
Would it be ungentlemanly of me to say 'yes?'
[There's a mischievous glint in his eyes before he drops his chin to let his lips and the tip of his nose lightly brush against her forehead, barely enough to count as a kiss, though he plans to make up for that soon.
They pass through the sitting room without stopping, and through another door that had been left ajar to a bedroom that is undeniably Gale from floor to ceiling, from walls painted and charmed to mimic the night sky to the overstuffed bookshelves full to bursting with the volumes and trinkets he's collected during his months here.]
I can be called many things, but never coy, and I am certainly not a priest.
[He is, for better or for worse, incredibly human, with all of the wants and needs that implies. He hadn't allowed himself to count the number of times he'd been distracted by thoughts of her; if he had, he's sure the number would have been thoroughly embarrassing.
He carefully sets her on the end of the bed and joins her there in one fluid movement, planting a hand against the mattress and his knee coming to rest beside her thigh as he drops his head to steal another kiss, warm and lingering.]
If— [He speaks against the curve of her lips now; it would be quite easy to lose himself far too quickly, but he doesn't want to rush a single moment of this, nor does he want to be overbearing.] —you should change your mind, you need only say, but I will swear to you what I have sworn once before regardless: I am yours, Amelia.
Edited (I found an error do not perceive me) 2024-01-06 23:56 (UTC)
[She sinks into the mattress as he sets her down and her heart beats against her chest as he claims her lips once again. Gale never fails to swear himself to her, a reminder of how much she meant to him. It makes Amelia swallow as he makes that promise.
The rest of the night was theirs. Her whole being is alight at the anticipation of what it will bring. Amelia tries to be patient like Gale and tries not to rush as she responds to his pledge with another kiss; this one is languid yet wanting as she tastes him in a way that implores him to taste her back.
Steadily, slowly, the candle begins to burn brighter.
Amelia pauses to breathe and one of her hands moves to the collar of Gale's sweater.]
I... [Her other hand starts to thread through his hair, gripping it softly.]
... Don't want you to stop.
[In the next second, if he glances down, he'll find that she's relieved herself of her jeans; her feet and legs are completely bare though her upper half remains covered. Her cheeks continue to burn red but Amelia doesn't look away from his face.]
You need to show me what you've been thinking about, Gale.
[He kisses her back with ardent enthusiasm, the taste and scent of her already dizzying, and all he can do is eagerly accept that invitation, heated and wanting as he drinks her in deeply, moving well past teasing when his tongue meets hers. His breath catches when he feels her fingers tangle in his hair, the soft tug of their grip, and he can't help the soft moan that escapes him, the sound drowning in the kiss itself in the moment before it breaks.
She doesn't want him to stop, and it only takes a single glance downward to see just how readily she's committed to moving forward, made herself vulnerable. He exhales, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth, the bridge of her nose, swallowing hard and taking a moment to remind himself how to breathe.]
Of course— as you wish, my heart.
[He pulls back, one knee still pressed against the mattress as he proceeds to tug his sweater off over his head, but aside from the brief moment where they're covered, he never lets his eyes leave her, watching her intently as he tosses the sweater aside to be dealt with later on. He makes short work of the button-down he'd been wearing beneath it, his heated gaze remaining fixed on her as he does so, taking in the color in her cheeks, the soft curve of her lips, and once he's free from the waist up, he joins her once more, a hand against her hip so that he can gently ease her back towards the pillows.
The orb's markings are fully on display now, but any self-consciousness he may have had about them is forgotten. He kneels before her with his legs spread, taking her face in his other hand so that his lips can crash against hers, hungrier now as he's let some of that patience and restraint slip, his fingers warm against her skin as he lets them sneak beneath the hem of her sweater.]
You are truly breathtaking.
[He murmurs against her lips between kisses, chasing after each one for more like a man dying of thirst, as though they are his very lifeblood.]
[Amelia watches as Gale strips down for her and for a moment all she can hear is a drumming pulse in her ears as he eases her towards the pillows and she moves further back. His gaze is intense and it causes her to shiver from the roots of her hair to her fingertips; what remains of her quickly dwindling coherent thoughts are how she wants to run her hands over the plane of his chest, trace the markings of that orb like it's beautiful rather than something to fear, and how she would dearly love to caress his shoulder blades.
Those thoughts are drowned by his demanding and hungry kiss and she returns it in kind so he understands that the desire and need are not one-sided. She would never want to do this half-heartedly, especially with Gale who promised her his whole being. She moans into his lips and the ever-increasing heat around her body and between her legs makes the fabric of her sweater unbearable especially when his fingers find their way beneath it.]
Gale...
[Amelia says his name with reverence and her green eyes burn into him. She frees up her hands so that she can slip her arms out of her sweater and swiftly pull it over her head. Though her bra and underwear are all that's left, the need to feel his skin against hers has amplified as she cups his face in her hands and takes several breaths to collect herself, and then starts kissing her way up starting with his collarbone, then his shoulders, and then the side of his jaw, mixing little nips of teeth and tongue.
Even without words, she can tell him how much she wants him and how electrifying being with him is by the warmth emanating from her skin. But Amelia tries to return his words, the longing— ]
[He only has the briefest of moments to admire her between kisses once she slips out of her sweater, the need for the heat of skin against skin too strong to overcome, but he intends to learn and admire every inch of her by touch, by taste. A soft moan escapes him as she kisses her way up his collarbone; his head drops back as she peppers his shoulders and jaw with kisses and the teasing scrape of her teeth, and he can feel want and desire radiating from her and dancing across the very surface of his skin, even as heat simmers just beneath it.
The markings left behind by the orb have begun to glow faintly, the magic in him reacting to hers, rising to greet it, and even as she tries to find words, he encircles an arm around her waist and bears her back against the pillows, following her down so that he can pull her flush against him. He has a very, very clear idea of how he'd like to proceed, and he claims her lips with another deep and needful kiss before he begins to steadily work his way along her jaw, kissing along the curve of her neck and offering his own playful nips as he goes. One hand slides over the slope and curve of her breast before circling around to work at the clasp of her bra— an unfamiliar modernization of what he's used to, but he determines it's intuitive enough.]
Relax. [The word comes soft against the hollow of her throat between kisses, almost purred, his head bent.] Allow me to take care of you tonight. I'll see that you have everything you want and more.
[His trousers feel almost unbearably hot in that moment, as well, but rather than hurry to shed them, he focuses his attention on her, intent and eager to please, and when the clasp finally comes loose in his hand, he blindly guides one of the straps over her shoulder, following its path by kissing his way along the length of her collarbone and then downwards, slowing just enough to make each kiss deliberate, lingering.]
[Amelia shudders as the bra is removed and she assists by sliding her arms out of the straps and pushing it aside. There's no chance for cool air to wash over her, not when they're so close to each other and Gale busies himself with his nips to her neck. His soft reassurances against her throat could have made her melt right then and there but she shakily inhales again to focus solely on him and how he moves down her body with his kisses.
There are so many ways to go about this but she isn't exactly thinking with clarity. All she knows is that she needs Gale and his touch over her and inside her. Mouth, tongue, hands, anything that could send her over with shockwaves.
Somehow she manages to speak up as her hands sneak back into his hair.]
Are you... [She holds back a pleased hum.] Trying my patience, Gale?
[Because it's working as her legs start to move apart expectantly.]
[He laughs against her skin as he continues to work his way downwards, a shiver running through him at her heated reprimand and the tug of her fingers in his hair; he takes one of her breasts in hand and gently circles and teases its peak with his thumb while he kisses his way down the slope of the other, his beard lightly scratching against fair skin as he gently takes her nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue against it before releasing it to exposure to the cool air.]
Perhaps I am, but not for long.
[He kisses his way down her stomach, his hands firm as they move along her curves with purpose, down over her hips before hooking his fingers into her undergarments and pulling them smoothly downwards, sitting up on his knees just long enough to remove them with some limited assistance. He takes that moment to truly appreciate her, look her over with a heated gaze that speaks not only of lust but utter adoration, and his gaze meets hers for a moment that leaves him nearly breathless before he tosses that last scrap of clothing aside.
He lowers himself between her spread legs with no remaining barrier between them, one hand coming to grip her thigh as he guides it over her shoulder and drops down to trace the line of her lower lips with his tongue, bottom to top, deliberate and almost painfully slow before he parts them and kisses here there, too, eager to lose himself as he tastes her in earnest, desire coiling hotly in his own stomach.]
She squirms and struggles to hold back her sounds as he gives her breast attention with his tongue. Her undergarments are removed with deft hands and finally, she's completely bare and vulnerable under his gaze. And when Gale lowers himself between her legs, breath hot as he guides her leg...
Oh.
A sweet and delighted cry escapes her mouth as Gale's tongue teases her folds and enflames her even further and fiercely within. Fingers tightly grip the sheets as he relishes it with even more attention.
Not fair. She's going to lose herself too soon from the sheer thrill of how he wants to pleasure her with his mouth without her having to ask. It was her choice to let down her guard but it's at this moment she realizes how many she had up. But she can't pull away. She needs more of him more of his tongue inside of her. Amelia brings a hand to her mouth to bite her knuckles and tone down her voice; regardless, the plea behind it cannot be concealed much as she tries.]
[The sounds she makes— he had thought it impossible for himself to want her even more than he already had, but the sweet sound of her voice as she responds to his efforts, the tug of the sheets he feels beneath them, all of it only serves to fuel him further. He moans softly against her as he remains focused on his attentions, lifting his eyes only for a moment to see how stunning she is sprawled back against the pillows, and he feels his heart beat faster at the sight of her biting her knuckles to try and stifle herself.
She'd asked him not to stop, and he has no intention of doing so.
His fingers dig into her thigh just a bit more as he anchors himself, not enough to cause pain, and he gently circles the spot he knows will bring her the most pleasure with his tongue, careful and attentive, focusing his efforts there in hopes of getting another delightful squirm out of her before he dips lower and tastes her more deeply than before. Unwilling to leave her unattended, he lets his thumb take over while his lips and tongue are otherwise occupied, each kiss and stroke of his tongue as gentle as it is adoring, his thumb tightly circling and nudging that bud of pleasure as he keeps himself attentive and attuned to her responses— what she likes, what makes her go tense, what draws those sweet sounds of pleasure from her, what causes a tug of the sheets. They both still have a great deal to learn about one another, and this seems an excellent place to start.]
The normally composed and severe witch now lies on her back, body flushed and eyes incensed. She writhes at Gale's ministrations, her breathing hot and rhythmic, interrupted just as suddenly as his thumb works in tandem with his tongue to make her feel incredibly sublime. There's an attempt to be stubborn and silence her voice but to no avail as she gasps feverishly through each stroke. Each lap of tongue makes her delirious, and each motion of his thumb threatens to make her clamp his head between her thighs and propel him further.
Her hold on the sheets loosens and tightens before she arches her back slightly, just enough to sit up and cradle his head between her hands, fingers gripping his hair with need. When Amelia speaks up, she barely recognizes her own raw and frantic voice.]
Good— Gale, it feels so good, I'm—!
[She could drown at this moment, balance on this tightrope of exquisite torment or give in and fall off the quickly approaching edge. His careful work and attention to her center of pleasure are making her wet and it makes her lose her articulation.]
I'm... I...
[She's so close to release and he can feel it in the grind of her hips against his tongue and the dewiness of her center as she chases it desperately. No other thoughts, just her, Gale, and this impossible pleasure he's ravishing upon her.]
[Gods above, to hear his name on her lips like that... it is so, so much sweeter than he ever could have imagined.
Even if she hadn't given voice to her unraveling, he would have known she was dangerously close— the shudder of her thighs as she struggles not to trap him between them, the uneven hitch of her breath, her grip on his hair that only serves to further stoke his own arousal. He looks up at her from beneath long lashes for but a moment, her voice having gained an edge that stirs something primal deep within him, and he only gives her a brief moment of reprieve as he allows himself a breath, his beard scraping against the inside of her thigh as he shifts his angle, the muscles in his back pulling taut beneath her gaze as he disappears between her legs once more.]
Let yourself go, my love.
[His voice is low, raw and husky with his own desire, and he feels drunk on the scent of her as he closes his lips around her clit, once again lavishing attention on her with his tongue, its strokes tender but no less persistent in the wake of his thumb, releasing her thigh and letting it rest over his shoulder as he reaches to lay his hand against her stomach. Gently, he presses two of those dexterous fingers inside of her and curls them forward as if to beckon her, stroking her from within while he continues to push her higher with lips and tongue alike, breath hot and labored against sensitive skin, intent on bringing her over that edge and watching her come apart, his efforts as intense as they are meticulously controlled, unwilling to lose himself until he's given her what he feels is her due.]
[She nearly groans as he gives himself a breath pulling him back to her although there's no need as he sets about driving her mad once again, his thirst for her yet to be slaked. If she could, she'd admire his control and countenance but that's hardly doable at that moment.
Amelia doesn't know if it's his words (and for a split second her heart feels a sting, quickly smothered by her haze of lust) or the obscene way he consumes her and slips his fingers inside to rub her, but it all leads to the same end. She completely shatters.
She's deaf to her own cries as she arches her back and comes. Her body quivers and shakes, awash with pleasure, and the pads of her fingers grasp his hair tightly before letting go and raising them so that her arms cover her eyes.]
Oh—
[She whimpers in blissful awe. Even with her eyes closed she sees sparkling lights akin to the fireworks that were set off not too long ago. To say that she's bewildered, stunned, or irrevocably elated wouldn't be able to measure up to the aftermath of how Gale made her feel.]
[He doesn't relent for a moment, carrying through her peak and bracing a hand against her hip to help steady her as that wave of pleasure rolls through her, drinking in every sound, every cry, every quiver, her fingers in his hair drawing a groan from him as he remains fixed against her. Only when she finally stills does he stop to catch his breath, slowly and carefully withdrawing his fingers and leaving a soothing kiss in his wake before he props himself up on one elbow, disheveled, watching her intently as he takes his own fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.
Careful not to overwhelm her, he shifts forward so that he can join her once more and puts an arm around her waist to gather her against his chest, carding fingers through her vibrant red hair and pressing a soft kiss against her forehead before dropping one on either cheek, then finally reaching her lips, catching them with his own. Seeing her like this, hearing her come undone as a result of his attentions, all of it has his pulse reaching a fever pitch, his blood thundering in his ears, and he exhales happily against the curve of her mouth, eyes closed.]
You should hear yourself.
[Some might feel self-conscious after hearing such a statement, but the low rasp of his voice makes it very, very clear that he quite likes what he hears.]
[Amelia is breathing hard but it begins to recede as Gale pulls her close. She's pliant under his embrace and moves her arms as he softly kisses her. When they reach her lips, she returns them dazedly, registering the faint taste of herself on him. When Gale speaks with that low rasp and she finally takes in his elated face up close, her body shivers once again.
With some great effort, she manages to reply, still sensitive to every touch and his skin against hers.]
I... Was I loud?
[A redundant question and maybe kind of adorable of her to ask. Amelia's hands move up to Gale's shoulders.]
That was... You're...
[You're so wonderful. Even in the aftermath of the shockwaves that slammed into her in a flash, she's already glancing downward and says:]
Gale. [Her kisses take a turn and he'll feel his lower lip being nipped at.]
Aren't you...?
[Her fingers are sliding down his torso and towards his hips. She inhales before continuing, a gentle longing in her voice.]
[Her first question makes him laugh warmly, a genuinely joyful sound that he follows with another soft but insistent kiss, feeling electricity crackle along his skin as her hands move up to his shoulders.]
You sounded beautiful.
[That doesn't exactly answer her question, but a shudder rolls through him as she nips at his lower lip, another soft groan escaping him; he swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing visibly as he insistently kisses her back, still heated, still hungry, a very distinct wanting still very much present behind all that tenderness.
Her fingers begin to trail downwards and the mark on his chest pulses just a bit brighter, and that note of longing in her voice reaches somewhere deep inside of him and further stokes the already burning embers of desire. He feels his heart jump into his throat for a moment as her fingers find his hips, and he answers that question with another heated kiss, catching her lower lip between his teeth before he starts kissing his way along the angle of her jaw and back towards her ears.]
Of course I do—
[His words are murmured against the shell of her ear now; he inhales the scent of her hair before dropping his chin to kiss and nip at the delicate skin of her neck. His lips are feverish against her, and he can feel that careful control of his threatening to fray— he is, admittedly, well out of practice, and does not quite have the mastery over himself he might have in the past.]
[He makes it difficult to talk as he kisses her fervently and she chuckles into his lips before he moves along to press his feverish lips against her jaw and ears. With returning clarity, she can pick up on his insistence and the carefulness he held when pleasuring her is close to disappearing.]
You did—
[Her fingers move to the front of his trousers and maneuver the button and zipper open, her eyes never leaving Gale.]
—Very well. [And this is where her voice drops into her own low and sensual tone as she moves her bare hips against his to tease.]
But don't hold back on my account.
[Amelia wants to feel him and see him lose control and release that reckless abandon in her. She gave him her sweet sounds and gave in to him. He deserves his due now and so she whispers in a tantalizing tone.]
[Her voice touches him in places where her hands simply cannot, though they are certainly making the effort as they travel downwards, and he lets out a sharp gasp followed by a soft groan of both relief as she handles his zipper. His gaze remains fixed on her in turn as she pulls closer to tease with that roll of her hips, and he laughs again as she coaxes him into letting that last bit of control fray; and he makes a low sound of approval at the back of his throat that's dangerously close to a growl as he rises to his knees to meet her, giving a forward roll of his own hips even as his trousers remain, zipper hanging open thanks to her aid.]
I only wanted to ensure you were well taken care of, but it is as you say—
[He inhales sharply as he seals his mouth over hers for another heated, ravenous kiss, this one even less restrained than the last, and his hands roam over her hips and up her sides, over her shoulders and down her back until he can cup her rear, only for a brief moment before he playfully topples her back to the bed, a mischievous smile curling his lips as he takes the opportunity to stand. She's made an excellent start, but if they're going to explore one another and entangle as fully as he'd like, he's still wearing a little too much clothing.]
The time for restraint has passed.
[He does away with his trousers and the briefs beneath, both having been pulled uncomfortably tight, and they end up in the same heap as the rest of their discarded clothing to be dealt with decidedly later, revealing himself to be hard and as wanting as to be expected. There's not a trace of the shyness he would otherwise show at baring even the most benign part of himself; he is well past the point of shyness with her, and he wastes no time in joining her on the bed once more, eager to become a tangle of limbs, to touch her and learn every dip and curve, his hands sliding over her hips the moment they're in reach, his lips catching hers as he finds himself utterly unable to stay away.
She'd longingly asked him if he'd wanted more of her, and the answer to that is one worth repeating; he exhales his words against the curve of her lips between eager kisses, his length pressing against her leg as he pulls her flush against him, sliding an arm around her waist.]
[Her mind and senses are addled by all of him, his roving hands, and voracious kisses. Before she knows it, he has her on her back and a delighted laugh escapes her again. She can't help it; she's drunk with pleasure and contentedness but when she sees how much he's been holding back, her arms eagerly wrap around him when he joins her on the bed.
Amelia presses her lips against his, a little slower and unhurried, but no less deep and passionate for him. Hands travel down his shoulder blades and then his neck before caressing his face.
Catching a breath, she smiles radiantly at Gale, a rarity from her that she doesn't even realize it.]
If that's what you want...
[One leg moves to hook behind his knees, to spurn him forward. She braces herself and kisses his chin.]
I'm all yours.
[More than a promise, it's a guarantee. She burns so brightly for him in that moment that she could go blind and would think nothing of it as long as she kept the memories of how he made her feel forever.]
[His eyes close for a moment as her hands travel towards his face, each touch amplified by just how long he's gone without— and even before his isolation, it had never been like this, never soft and warm and full of affection. He had, he supposes, never known the difference, but in a way, this feels like awakening from a long sleep.
He takes in a sharp breath as she hooks a leg around his waist, his gaze dark and heavy with lust, then exhales as he leans forward to press his forehead against hers, tangling his fingers in her hair as he cups the side of her face, one hand gliding over her hip and along her raised thigh before he shifts, guiding himself to her entrance and finally accepting the invitation she had offered him. He's slow to start, careful, not wanting to rush, but a low groan escapes him as he sinks into her inch by blissful inch, going still for a moment when he bottoms out, eyelids lowering once more.]
Amelia.
[It would be so, so easy to lose himself in the heat of her embrace, and he has no doubt he will, but for now, he catches her beneath her thigh to keep it draped over his hip and behind his back, then steadily rolls his hips to see just how they fit together, and it feels delicious and right. He had almost forgotten just how much mortal lovemaking had to offer, and he is glad they had chosen to do things this way, despite the alternatives he might have offered.
Slowly, he begins to start a rhythm, steady and deliberate as he thrusts into silken heat, his brow still pressed against hers, his fingers curling to tighten their grip in her hair, his breath shallow now that he's let his control begin to fray more quickly, falling away as he finds himself once more, for the first time in ages.]
[As he steadily slides into her, she bites down on her lip to muffle her cry and wraps her arms around Gale's shoulders. It feels so hot, so overwhelming, and wonderful all at once and her heart pounds in her chest as she watches him avidly. While she's grateful for the slow start, she's enamored with how he's beginning to let himself go and how amazing he's making her feel even after he generously gave her release.
The initial discomfort is forgotten and the burn and heat of it all envelops her completely. Her hips thrust back, adjusting to Gale's rhythm and she murmurs various encouragements to him.
Don't stop. Keep going. More.
This was all so dreamlike but his affection and need for her is so real. In everything he does, it makes Amelia believe in something new and something apart from the person she had been decades ago. And she wants Gale, Gale who also suffered so much, but believed in her, to feel the distance from that pain.
Her lips start to kiss up his shoulder again as he moves with some added scrapes of her teeth to encourage him even more.]
[He feels his own heartbeat quicken as they find their rhythm together; it isn't long before the roll of his hips becomes faster, deeper, still steady as they find their way to moving together, and he lets out a sharp noise of pleasure between parted lips as her teeth scrape at his shoulder followed by the soothing brush of her lips as she rains kisses on him. He can't help but respond with a particularly sharp thrust, the first interruption to the steady pace he'd set, but a welcome one, the heat of being so close, being inside of her as intoxicating as it was overwhelming.
He makes murmurings of his own, sweat beading against his forehead, his hand at her thigh sliding back to her hip to steady himself, deft fingers digging in as he bends his head and whispers sweet nothings between each heated thrusts, softly gasping how beautiful she was, how much he'd longed for this, and his lips steadily working along her neck, the hand in her hair dropping to palm at her breast and tease at its peak, his touch firm but gentle even now.]
I've dreamed of this, my heart.
[The admission is strained, one of many half-whispered adulations, and he carefully catches her earlobe between his teeth, giving it a playful nip.]
[Gale is quite literally, out of this world. What kind of fortune did she land on to be able to meet him, have him capture her heart, to have him like this? She can ponder all she wants later because now she's intent on letting him have her for this night.
The sharper thrust elicits a cry of sweet shock from her and she clings to him even tighter, fingers digging into his back, and clenching him even tighter. Gale's wandering hand over her chest and the nip at her earlobe make Amelia yelp and jut her hips back into him. His adulations, their mingled breaths, the continuous collision of their bodies— she's drowning in sensation and manages to gasp out a request.]
P-Please k-Keep going and... [Both of her legs now, wrap around his back insistently urging him to do more if possible.]
[The bite of her fingernails against his back and that sharp cry both send a shudder through him, from her fingers all the way to the base of his spine, and though he can hear that momentary hesitation in her voice as she wraps her legs tightly around his waist, he doesn't miss that request for a moment.
He feels another surge of heat push through him, urging him onward, and there's something that flares to life in his gaze as he lifts his head to claim her mouth with his own once more, his kiss searing as he does precisely as asked. If he'd still been holding something back, he certainly wasn't now; the steady roll of his hips has become a sharp snap forward instead, his rhythm now growing erratic as his breath comes short. He lets out a low groan follows by his own sharp cry against her lips, too lost in sensation and their shared heat to articulate more than that— truly, she must be a powerful witch to be able to render him speechless.
His pace is nearing furious now, each snap forward pushing hard and deep, careful control having frayed completely, though he still gathers himself well enough to slide a hand between the press of their bodies, pressing two fingers against her clit and working it to push her higher yet, even as he continues to lose himself in her.
He has enough presence of mind to realize that he's unlikely to last much longer, especially given just how long its been since he's known another human so intimately. His head drops back for a moment, baring his throat before he bends forward and buries his face in the crook of her neck, managing to string words together between more rushed, feverish kisses.]
I— I'm nearly—
[It's all he can manage. She can probably put the pieces together herself.]
[Her saccharine moans are a sound to behold at his unforgiving pace. It's a collision as her hips grind back, wanting to give the same urgency in return. This, this she likes; the height of madness, the carnal voracious want that engulfs the both of them in its entirety. She kisses him back, breathing in the voice of his pleasure, forgetting about everything else, everyone else...
(It's temporary, it's a distraction, she wants to add more distance to it all...)
His fingers pressing her clit insistently makes her cry out in shock, not expecting to be unraveled again. She feels overly stimulated, electricity running up her spine while her skin is on fire as the friction reaches an all-time high. The words he manages to deliver are not lost on her because she too is of the same mind, if there's any of it left that isn't lost to their frenzied desire. ]
I— You— You can—
[Whoever plunges first, the other is sure to follow. All she can do is bury her face in his shoulder before she kisses the base of his throat with the utmost gentleness and softness compared to everything else that's currently entangled.]
[Her continued moans, her own failed attempt at words, the soft press of her lips against the hollow of his throat— he had been determined to bring her to the edge again before he allowed himself to to come apart, but it's all too much, every sense blissfully overwhelmed, and his hips stutter as he tumbles over that edge himself. He cries out sharply, a shout that's rough enough at the edges that it sounds as though it had been torn from his very throat, and he stifles it by crushing his lips against the curve of her neck in an almost bruising kiss, followed by the scrape of teeth as he kisses his way downwards and spends himself inside of her, letting out a long, low groan that feels drawn from the deepest part of him.
The relentless pace he'd set is forced to slow, each buck growing weaker following his release, but even as his vision blurs with that dizzying feeling of head, overwhelming pleasure, he summons up the strength to continue, working his fingers to push and pinch and strive to make her come undone a second time beneath in, his breath now coming heavily just beneath her ear, his brow pressed firmly against her temple.]
Come for me—
[It's a low and breathless demand, rather than a request, but he has never been one to leave a task unfinished, and certainly not one as delightful as this.]
[Maybe it's the stifled rough cry against her neck, or how he spent himself inside her; perhaps it's the continuous hot friction even as his body slows down but his fingers do not, or his breathless demand for her to come under his gaze—
The thread snaps. With her hips bucking desperately against him and his fingers, stars burst behind her eyelids as she inhales raggedly and cries out sweetly once again as a tidal wave of absolute ecstasy crashes and overtakes her entire being.
Unbelievable. Incredible.
For a moment she breathes heavily before releasing her legs from him but not completely withdrawing, legs intertwined with his. Her chest heaves up and down as she weakly covers her eyes with her arms to bask in the lingering. It had been so long that if her words returned to her properly, she would be lost in the afterglow of such a vigorous session.
Pursing her lips she lifts one hand up to blindly search for Gale's face and when she does, her fingers trace the contour of his lips and just hover there, a wordless gesture of contentment.]
[It is as stunningly beautiful to watch as it had been the first time— perhaps even moreso now that he's no longer lost in the heat of his own desire, and he feels his breath rush out of him as she comes apart beneath his touch, bending his head to press kisses against the fine column of her throat as he continues to press and stroke her through her peak, easing his touch only when she begins to come down the other side.
His own breath is still heavy, ragged, and for a few moments he drops his head to rest lightly above her heart as he remembers how to breathe properly. It's only once he's done so that he carefully withdraws from her, softening, their limbs still entangled as puts his arms around her middle and settles against the mattress beside her, feeling his heartrate slow as he remains pulled close, dropping soft, tender kisses against her shoulder. He gives a breathless laugh as he takes her in, sees the way she's covered her eyes in the aftermath, and smiles against the brush of her fingers as she traces his lips, puckering them to press against her fingertips.
Contentment. It hardly seems a strong enough word, and yet in this moment he can think of nothing else beyond this room, beyond the pair of them. Their respective troubles are quite literally worlds away— there is nothing to keep this perfect moment from being entirely theirs.
He is the first to break the silence, dropping his chin to gently nuzzle his nose and lips against her shoulder, gathering her against his chest as he playfully hooks his own foot around her ankle.]
[It sounds like a grumble but it's less displeased and more tired. So, maybe not a perfect moment, but it's a very her response even in this kind of aftermath. The kisses on her shoulder make Amelia curl into Gale and as he takes her into his gentler embrace, she drops her arms and crosses them across her waist.]
[He laughs softly as she curls into him, gladly adjusting his posture for her as she lowers her arms.]
Is that so? Well. [He tuts, teasingly.] We are up rather late.
[Rather than disrupt their current arrangement, he raises a hand just enough to wave and it and bid the bed to conform to their needs, instead; the two of them are now nestled comfortably beneath the soft, richly plum-colored duvet. No need to risk getting cold.]
That's what I get for agreeing to stay up late I suppose.
[She's the most wry. Now that they're comfortably covered, Amelia turns around so that she's facing Gale directly. Contrary to her brusque remarks, her eyes are soft when looking into his.]
[His own smile softens as she locks eyes with him, and he leans in to press his brow against hers, letting the tips of their noses brush as he takes the side of her face in his hand, fingers easily entangling themselves in her hair.]
You are more than worth waiting for.
[He would have waited forever, if she'd needed it, though saying so aloud might be a bit much for her.]
Thank you for trusting me. [With this. With her story. With her heart.] I'll ensure that trust is not misplaced.
[The tenderness contrasts the minutes beforehand; it's befuddling especially after being so long without, but she isn't going to shy away from the comfort his touch gives her. Her fingers reach up in turn, tracing the outline of his beard.]
[It is remarkable, really, how something so many people take for granted— the simple act of human touch— can bring one so much comfort. These quiet moments following their impassioned entanglement are just as important, just as precious, and he turns his head just enough to place a chaste kiss against the inside of her wrist as she runs her fingers along the edge of his beard.]
I should hope not, otherwise my hopes of starting the new year by waking beside you would be dashed.
[There's a mirthful upturn at one corner of his mouth, and he tips his chin upwards just enough to press a kiss against her forehead, followed by the corner of her mouth.]
May you have the sweetest of dreams. I will be here when you wake.
[Sleep, he thinks, will come easily tonight— for the first time in a long, long while.]
[Gale cannot remember the last time he slept so well, without interruption from the orb's stirring, or without any of his worries regarding the many unsolved problems he found himself faced with manifesting themselves as nightmares. It was a welcome change, one of many reasons he was grateful Amelia had accepted his invitation, though as reasons went, it was further down the list than one might think.
Morning comes, as it always does, sunlight filtering in through the tall, open windows that look out over that conjured replica of Waterdeep, the curtains stirring thanks to the gentle breeze blowing in off the harbor. He rubs at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand as they slowly creak open, then stifles a yawn as he turns his head towards the window— judging by the angle of the light, which he has of course ensured is accurate despite the fact that the scenery outside is nothing more than an illusion, it's a bit later in the morning than he would normally rise, though given their late night and the occasion, he supposes that shouldn't come as much of a surprise.
He smiles as bits and pieces of the previous evening return to him unbidden, and despite the rather significant step they had taken, it's the kisses and resolutions they'd shared on the balcony and those blissful, almost pleasantly numb moments before sleep that immediately come to mind. He shifts carefully, moving onto his side to face the woman in bed beside him, one arm still curled beneath her waist. It seems a terrible shame to disturb her while she sleeps, and so he remains uncharacteristically silent, though he cannot help but to reach out and lightly trace the curve of her shoulder with his finger, trailing down the length of her arm.]
She dreamed of walking through a garden of roses. They were all turned towards the girl, vivid and scarlet as if they were looking at her. Above, the sky was impossibly blue and the rays of the sun made the blooms glow like red jewels floating on a sea of green leaves. There was no end in sight.
The leaves rustled beneath her bare feet. An invisible breeze passed by and through her hair and a storm of petals flew past. She squinted and covered her eyes with one arm. When they were all gone and the girl uncovered her eyes, she saw him, squatting down, stroking one of the roses. His spring yellow-green hair cascaded over his shoulders and down his back.
She walked up to him, her heart racing.
He looked up to see who was walking towards him and smiled.
They talked. She didn't remember what about exactly. At some point, another breeze passed through. It smelled of the salt and the sea. He looked towards the horizon and when he spoke again, she finally heard his voice.
"I think it's the ocean."
He smiled at her encouragingly and gently asked if she was going there next. Her heart seized. But somehow she nods. She resumed walking towards the sea. Before she went any further she turned to ask if he could come with her.
[Amelia stirs when she feels a trail being made on her shoulder and down her arm. Her eyes slowly open, remaining half-lidded as her vision clears up.
Gale.
It's warm and she faintly realizes that his other arm is around her waist. She doesn't say anything at first; she just watches him even though he's much more awake than her. But before he can even speak up, she reaches up to... Well.
She's kind of pinching (softly, to be fair) a little bit of his beard.]
[He stills his fingers when she begins to stir, faint though it may be, watching with equal parts affection and interest as she slowly opens her eyes. This, he had quite been looking forward to, and it's only in this very moment that he realizes exactly how much. He's shared a bed before, certainly, but it had never been like this— not with someone he cared about so deeply, not with someone he truly loved. For all that he had loved Mystra, he's begun to feel that he'd been more of a pet to her than anything else— they had never been equals, of course, and she had never considered him a partner.
For ages, he had been near desperate to serve, willing to offer up everything he had for whatever his goddess might offer him, but all of that paled in comparison to what he had before him now. It was, perhaps, still new, and not without its challenges— but it was undeniably real, and he already felt far more seen after a few short months with Amelia than he ever had as Mystra's Chosen.
His smile blooms further, and he's just about to lean in to greet her with a kiss when she starts pinching his beard.
There's a long, puzzled moment of silence before he laughs, crinkling at the eyes as he so often does.]
[Amelia's thoughts are much more challenging to parse, especially after waking up. Contrary to popular expectations, she is not a morning person, as shown by the library experience.
She fiddles with his beard for a couple of more seconds before letting go to rub one eye.]
Morning.
[Her eyes close again. It's just... Very comfortable. She had slept well and wanted to stay in one place for a few more minutes. The moment is tender and while she is genuinely still swayed by sleep, the other part of her is concerned she doesn't have the demeanor that could express the same warmth Gale is giving to her. His laugh makes her heart beat and the sight of his upturned smile causes her face to flush.
She's happy. She'll allow herself to admit that much internally.]
[He all but exhales the words, his eyelids lowering. He's never quite cared for early mornings, himself, though he'd had to become used to them while traveling— his academy days had always demanded they be a necessary evil, as well, but given that he was the sort to lose track of time and work through much of the night, he much preferred a leisurely pace when it came to mornings overall.]
Fortunately, I've nowhere to be. [The beauty of vacation.] The bath, eventually. The kitchen, certainly, but I can't say I feel all that inclined to rush.
[He's quite comfortable where he is, sprawled beneath the covers with her, and the view is lovely beyond compare— when his eyelids aren't feeling quite so heavy.]
Nothing to keep us from staying exactly where we are as long as we like.
[He lets out a contented hum as he, too, burrows a bit further beneath the blanket, then inches closer to lean in and at last press a soft kiss against the side of her mouth, shaking his head slightly.]
You are more than welcome to help yourself to the shower, though I must insist on you letting me handle breakfast.
[There's a mirthful note in his voice; he quite enjoys having the opportunity to cook for others, and being able to do so for her in this specific situation is something he's been especially looking forward to.]
I'd like to spoil you a bit, if I may. You needn't lift a finger.
[Amelia smiles into that soft kiss and shifts so that she can give Gale a proper kiss back on the full seam of his lips after he confirms the lazy-day itinerary for their late morning.]
Careful. You're going to make me too accustomed to all this.
[Insidious Gale of Waterdeep! With that said, she pats him on his shoulder as if to dismiss him.]
I'll shower, you handle breakfast. No peeking at each other while we get out of bed.
[He chases her lips to insidiously steal another brief, affectionate kiss before she pats him on the shoulder and begins to pull away. As she continues, he gasps as he braces a hand against the mattress in preparation to prop himself up, feigning shock.]
No peeking? That seems a terrible shame. Still, perhaps for the best... I'm quite sensitive, really.
[The lamentation in his voice is a bit too overdone to be genuine, even if that last bit is technically true. He is well past physical insecurities coming between them, at this point.]
[Amelia sits up with her back turned to Gale. She runs a hand through her red hair that gleams ever so slightly in the artificial morning light.]
If you wanted to look, you could just ask.
[Feeling kind of cheeky, this one. She does have to stretch out her arms and summon the will to stand up considering last night's strenuous activities; after having been so long without, she's not accustomed to the morning afters.]
[He remains close to horizontal and watches her attentively as she sits up, chuckling and only doing the same once she addresses him, letting the comforter fall away and pool around his waist.]
I just didn't know we were suddenly being shy, but I do think I got quite a good look last night.
[He's more than happy to be cheeky right back, and he, too, runs a hand through his hair to keep it from being too unkempt— helped along by a handy charm that sets it to rights as he cards his fingers through it, his smile quirking to one side.]
A sight I'll not soon forget, I have to say. If you're worried about my catching a glimpse in the daylight, you could stay right where you are until breakfast is finished. The shower certainly won't be going anywhere.
Perhaps I am. [He bites at his lower lip to keep himself from laughing again when he sees the color spreading across her shoulders; he's sure his own face is a bit flushed, as well.] Though if I were, I hardly think I could be blamed.
[The covers rustle a bit as he turns and lets his feet hit the floor; he gives a stretch of his own, though his back does give a very sound pop as he does so, causing him to let out an entirely different kind of laugh, bordering on sheepish.]
Ah, that's a bit embarrassing, isn't it?
[He shakes his head, getting to his feet and reaching to grab a robe so that he can pull it on one arm at a time, belting it around the middle, then circles around to her side of the bed so that he can lean down and press a kiss against her forehead.]
Enjoy your beauty rest; I'll have breakfast ready for us in no time.
[Ah, that back pop is mildly alarming. When she turns around to look, he's already in his robe and moving around to kiss her on the forehead.
Waving him off sleepily, when he's finally out of the room, Amelia looks around for where her sweater was tossed off. After recovering it and putting it on, she slides back underneath the covers and closes her eyes. It's not actual sleep as it is taking in the ambient sounds in Gale's room and imprinting on its presence.
This is the first time in a long while she feels comfortable sleeping in another space that isn't hers.]
[The room itself is cozy and well-lived in despite the fact that they've only been guests at the hotel for a handful of months, and as she rests, she'll be granted the company of the soft ticking of a mechanical clock and quiet birdsong from the conjured cityscape outside. It's not long until the sounds of breakfast being put together will drift in from the kitchen, followed by the scent of bacon that proceeds to drown out any other smells that might have tried to accompany it.
Some time later, the bedroom door will creak the rest of the way open as he returns with a tray in hand, a second hovering alongside of him bearing two cups and a carafe of coffee.]
[As Gale enters the room with the breakfast tray, Amelia sits up covering her mouth with a yawn. The smell of coffee is enough to wake her up completely. ]
Very comfortable. I usually... Don't like sleeping in other places. Even in my own room here, it took a while for me to adjust.
[She gives him a small smile before looking at the tray expectantly.]
[His expression softens as it so often does in her presence; that answer touches him more than he might have expected. It's a lovely thing, to know that someone trusts you and feels comfortable enough with you to feel so at ease.]
I am glad to hear it— I do hope you'll continue to make yourself at home.
[For the rest of this visit, for any that might follow— he does not wish for her to feel like a guest.
He proceeds to send one of the trays floating towards her with a flourish; their contents rearrange themselves so that it bears a single plate, coffee cup, and a set of flatware as it comes to hover in front of her, waiting to be grabbed hold of.]
This morning's repast is omelettes with bacon, mushrooms, onions and Waterdhavian cheese, served with toasted sourdough bread and dragonfire roast coffee, which should be strong enough to suit your tastes, I believe.
[Man, Gale... Amelia knows from Gale's background that he wasn't good at keeping friends due to his pursuit of his ambitions though it isn't as if he was without connection. It really is a shame that not many people got to see his excellent qualities outside of his magical prowess.
... In a way though, that's fine, isn't it? It just means she gets homemade breakfast in bed to herself.
The breakfast spread is met with approval and she reaches for the coffee first.]
Dragonfire roast coffee sounds foreboding but the promise of caffeine intrigues me.
[She takes a sip. Assesses the taste. And nods in approval. A+ Gale.]
[He laughs warmly, returning to his own side of the bed so that he can ease in beside her, wiggling his toes beneath the covers as he makes himself comfortable, his own tray now hovering until he's ready to take it.]
Only a name, in this case. I think they wanted it to sound thrilling, but there are no actual dragons involved in the process— if there were, I don't know that the roasters would ever turn a profit, given their inclination towards hoarding. I'm pleased it meets with your approval! I know you take coffee quite seriously.
[He takes hold of his tray and puts a bit of cream in his own coffee before he helps himself to a long sip, followed by a contented exhale.]
As much as I do appreciate our many cafés and other establishments within the hotel, there's nothing quite like a cup of coffee you don't have to get dressed for.
[Her coffee lecture at Winter probably didn't go unnoticed... She sips her coffee again, slowly and steadily.]
My friend's granddaughter runs a magical cafe.
Her enthusiasm for coffee and tea has consequently rubbed off on me. It's an interesting place; I'd say something similar to this hotel but smaller and you can happen upon it anywhere at any time, if that makes sense.
[Word has certainly gotten around, and Gale himself has gone on enough coffee or breakfast outings with her to take notice of her preferences, himself. He's always been one for keen observation.]
It sounds like it's quite something— and quite novel, at that.
[He sets his cup down after another long sip so that he can take his fork and start in on his food properly, though he does keep stealing peripheral glances her way to ensure everything meets with her approval. He does aim to please.]
That must be difficult if someone wants to make their way there on purpose, though I assume she must have a way around that.
[She's munching on the food, don't worry Gale. Her usual neutral expression has returned so really, the fact that she keeps reaching for the breakfast items should be a good sign.]
Mm. The door to the cafe is more difficult to find on purpose. Rather, it makes its appearance to those who need rest. It's a very specific, yet nebulous type of magic that isn't the most reliable.
... I've thought about it as a way for us to reunite if there was ever the chance we'd be separated.
[Ah, yes— he's become quite used to reading her actions rather than her expressions, but he seems satisfied enough with what he sees to start in on his own breakfast in earnest. That, however, doesn't last terribly long— her words make him pause with a piece of toast halfway to his mouth, suspended in animation.]
You've given that thought, then?
[Though there is a note of surprise in his voice, it's far more noteworthy that he sounds as pleased as he does hopeful.
He turns his gaze very fixedly towards his plate, but there's no stopping the spread of his smile or the color that touches his face and the tips of his ears.]
I'd been considering similar strategies, though I don't know of any cafés or other venues that might serve us in that regard. All that means is having to make such means available on my own.
[What a pair they make— given how serious they've both shown themselves to take this relationship of theirs, it stands to reason that of course they would both give thought to how they might proceed outside of the hotel, but hearing and saying it aloud is still just slightly surreal.
How fortunate he is, to have found something— someone— worth bridging the gap between worlds for.]
Only natural that we've both given it some thought, but it's still quite something to hear.
[He takes care not to let his gaze linger on her too long, not wanting to further her embarrassment, but his hand does creep a bit closer to hers on the mattress while he uses the other to cut his omelette apart with his fork, giving her a brief but meaningful glance.]
That last bit is going to take some getting used to.
[It is, however, what the word partnership implies, and that is what this sort of arrangement is meant to be, isn't it? Or so he's heard tell. His basis for comparison is, admittedly, quite limited— and extremely uneven.]
[It occurs to Amelia that Gale would be unaccustomed to a relationship where there were goals to strive for and expectations that were clearly communicated. Far be it for her to be presumptuous about what his time with Mystra was like, but she supposes he was always used to doing things for the goddess instead of with.]
... Gale. Togetherness encompasses many things.
[She sets down her fork and angles herself more so she's facing him directly.]
And if there's anything I've learned from my failures, it's that you should not feel alone when you're with someone else.
[He looks back to her when she says his name, giving her his full attention, and the smile he offers in reply is significantly softer than his usual bright optimism. He can only take those words to heart; over the last several months, and during some of the more lucid moments of his isolation, he has begun to believe that very same thing.]
Indeed, you're quite right. I feel much the same.
[Even if he has little basis for comparison. He knows what he does not want to find himself feeling again, and knows that what he's already been fortunate enough to experience with Amelia is far more fulfilling than his past attempts could have ever hoped to be. Their relationship may still be new by most standards, but the intent to grow together going forward has been made perfectly clear by the both of them.]
Yet here I am, thinking I would be saying the very same to you. I'm glad we're of the same mind.
[He does curl his fingers against her hand at last, just a momentary touch of affection.]
I think we've both had more than our share of loneliness. If I have things my way, that will become a distant memory for both of us.
[The curl of his fingers is returned with her own, a sign of her sincerity.]
If you had known me when I was younger, none of this between us might have happened. Not because I would have been occupied at the time but rather...
[Her voice trails off trying to gauge her past self.]
Well. If you thought of me as only slightly difficult when we first met, I would have put up more of a fight against your affections as my younger self.
The point being, that loneliness isn't a distant memory for me, but if our time together has proven anything... Well, I'm more hopeful. You make me more hopeful.
[There's a note of fond amusement in his voice, and he feels a fluttering in his chest that's beginning to become quite familiar as she curls her fingers against his.]
Perhaps I would have been intrigued by the challenge, instead— I've always been the ambitious sort. That said, you may not have found me quite so palatable, either. I had a reputation for being charming, but no doubt you would have found me arrogant. I certainly do, looking back.
[He hadn't missed the point, however. He focuses on what she'd said last, the weight of it not lost on him, because she has granted him the same.]
I am glad to be able to offer you such a thing. I know it is not insignificant, but it seems the least I can do— you have reminded there are things worth fighting for. That life is worth fighting for. It wasn't so long ago that I was resigned to bid it farewell.
[Gale, PLEASE, this woman is trying to finish the delicious breakfast you made. Her face reddens as her fork with eggs and bacon stops halfway at her mouth. How on earth will she cope with this poetic man who can drop such lines and blindside her instantly?
Well, she'll cope by stuffing said fork into her mouth and mumbling something inaudible as she chews, eyebrows screwed together as she tries to process what he said, even that last sobering bit.]
He clears his throat and lets out a sheepish little chuckle as he looks back as his own breakfast, staring hard at his plate and biting back a broader smile as he reaches for his coffee cup.]
[He almost chokes on his coffee as she startles another laugh out of him, shaking his head as he sets his cup down and thumps his fist against his chest, sputtering slightly.]
Right, of course. That would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. Though on the other hand, it would be a terrible shame.
[He's absolutely teasing, but if you're going to be even partially naked with someone while you eat breakfast, he thinks you should be able to have a good sense of humor about it.]
[Without missing a beat or removing the toast from her mouth, Amelia reaches over to pat him lightly on the back as he sputters. When she does remove said toast, she raises a brow at him.]
If it's a terrible shame, then make sure that for next time, you can use your words where it counts.
[She's somehow still herself but behind her blunt wording and cool expression, the affection and joking behind it is not mistaken. It's there in how she remains as is, next to Gale in, eating breakfast in bed without any intent to leave until she feels like it.]
[Thank you for helping him not to asphyxiate, dear heart. He clears his throat to better compose himself, shooting her a knowing smile despite her cool expression— even now, of course, Amelia is Amelia. He wouldn't have her any other way.]
I think, [he begins, that note of levity in his voice remaining,] someone more practiced at this sort of thing might be able to make some clever remark about how getting dressed at all might be overrated, but if I'm being perfectly honest with you, it sounds cold.
[He wrinkles his nose slightly, helping himself to more of his omelette.]
Maybe if I were a much younger man, I could have that sort of confidence, but I'm almost certain that kind of thing sounds better than it actually is.
[He says as though he's ancient. He's just barely 40.]
I would, however, like to invite you to enjoy my rooms at your leisure, if you've nowhere else to be today— the fireplace is excellent for reading in front of.
[She was just sipping her coffee as Gale gave his offer for the rest of the day. Her reply is to scoot closer to him and rest her head against his shoulder.]
A vacation from vacation with you then. I can't think of any better way to spend New Year's Day.
[Oh— he rather likes that, in fact, and some of that cheekiness ebbs away to reveal warm contentment, leaning back against the pillows as he eases his arm around her shoulders and takes his coffee cup in one hand again.]
I quite agree— and no one I would rather spend it with.
[He drops his chin to drop a chaste kiss against the top of her head before returning to his coffee, closing his eyes as he takes another long sip, followed by a satisfied exhale.]
[The question itself doesn't quite take him surprise, but the small note of hesitance he can hear in her voice, in that pause, does. He lets out a soft chuckle that rises from somewhere deep in his chest, opening his eyes once more to turn his gaze on her without turning his head, warm, boyish smile persisting.
He's sure he would look completely foolish to anyone else, with how much he's been smiling lately, but to be quite honest, he doesn't much care what anyone else thinks of him at the moment. He feels happier and more himself than he has in years, thanks to her.]
Dearest, you can stay as many nights as you wish, as far as I'm concerned. My door is always open to you, and what's mine is yours.
[Some men, he reckons, might be a touch hesitant about making such an open, standing offer, but he has always been one to pursue what he wants once he's certain of what, exactly, that is. Whatever may or may not happen when she stays does not matter nearly as much as her presence, her company. Even if they were to simply read their own books on the same sofa in companionable silence, he would be overjoyed.]
[Amelia is prone to second-guess her happiness in situations like this one. She had done it a lot in her prior relationship but there's something solid and reassuring about how Gale answers her with utmost certainty and unabashed generosity and it reminds her why this was one of the many reasons her heart eventually thawed around him.
She lets her cooled-down coffee cup sit on her lap as she continues to lay her head against Gale's. Her face turns to rest her forehead against his shoulder.]
Your confidence is astounding.
... And if you'd like, you can visit my room too. You haven't seen it yet after all.
My overall confidence may have taken a few hits the last few years, I'll admit, but there are some things I am undeniably sure of.
[He's certain he doesn't need to spell it out: this is absolutely one of them. He leans down just enough to nuzzle his nose and lips against her vibrant hair as she rests her forehead against him; just being close is enough to make him feel at ease, and not for the first time, it occurs to him just how very right this all feels, how well they fit together. The fact that they hail from different worlds entirely doesn't matter in the least.]
I would be very interested to see how my other half lives. One never invites themselves into a lady's bedroom, but given that you've extended the invitation yourself...
[He trails off, grinning as he sets his coffee cup aside, the tray carrying the meager remains of his breakfast floating off to put itself in the kitchen.]
[Amelia puts her coffee cup on her tray and lets it float away, following Gale's. She does have to move at some point but his lips against her hair make her go "Just one more minute."
But eventually, she pushes herself off of his shoulder and swings her legs over the bed, glancing around for her pants.]
At the rate we're going, we might have to make sure we keep spare clothes in each other's rooms.
[He sighs softly, reluctant to ease his arm away from her shoulders as she pulls away, but she'll see that he's still smiling from ear-to-ear when she does, his hand trailing down the length of her arm and his fingers gently curling against hers in that last moment before she pulls free. He leans forward against the mattress to watch her, propped up on one arm.]
I do like the sound of that.
[That would admittedly be something new for him, but a step he very much looks forward to. His voice is light and easy, playful as he watches her search for her pants with a mirthful gaze.]
Clothes, toothbrushes, other odds and ends— just practical, really. They're on the floor by the dresser, darling.
[But considering how far they've come, it's more than likely to happen. At his direction, she moves and sweeps up her jeans, wrapping them around her arms. God, it's been a long while for her since she's done any of this. Recklessly falling into another person's arms, waking up the next morning in a bed that isn't her own next to someone she didn't think she'd fall in deep enough with...
When she glances over at Gale, however, and the way he looks at her and remembers everything from last night... Amelia, for once, doesn't feel burdened. She feels incredibly light even after all the promises she's made for the new year with him.]
[Right. He doesn't want to rush things along further than she's ready for, but he has to admit, if there are more mornings like this in their future, there are certain things that seem to be a pleasant inevitability. Rather than worrying about when they reach certain steps or milestones, he intends to enjoy every moment of the journey at whatever pace works best for them— but there's no denying the future is promising.
He's partway through sitting back up and raking his fingers through his mussed hair when she asks him about the shower, and he freezes mid-motion, his face coloring suddenly despite all the playful flirting and doting he's already bestowed upon her this morning.
Did she just ask if he—
He clears his throat softly, giving her a sidelong glance that he hopes isn't too eager, just so that he might preserve some of his dignity.]
[Clearly, he's unable to say the right thing in this moment, so he finally tosses the covers back and gets to his feet. He does not want this to go anything close to the way the last time he'd inadvertently embarrassed her did.]
You could— take back taking it back. I was surprised, that's all.
[He moves to put his arms around her middle from behind, if she'll let him— just a reminder that he's a very cuddly and lovable wizard, in case she forgot.]
[His arms around her middle are surprising but not unwelcome. She takes another deep breath and glances up at Gale when he makes the admission that her offer is something very new for him. Maybe she shouldn't have reacted so harshly, knowing how impulsively she asked in the first place...
So she'll lean her back against him and reach up with one hand to pat the side of his face.]
Fine. The offer's back on the table. I did spring it on you suddenly, so that's on me.
[This is the struggle part of their relationship.]
Nothing has to happen, of course. I'd rather we take our time instead of rushing headfirst into whatever our fancies hit us with all the time.
[But it does say a lot that she's comfortable enough with him to want to share a moment as private and intimate as bathing.]
[He lets out a soft huff of affectionate laughter as she pats the side of his face, leaning down to lightly nuzzle against the line of her jaw, her neck, his beard gently scraping against her skin before he follows up with his lips.]
If it's back on the table, then I would love to join you.
[Nothing has to happen, just as he'd told her the night before, but the offer is one that invites an intimacy that's a bit different from what they'd shared the night before, a vulnerability that he recognizes does require a great deal of comfort for one to show.]
We could follow some fancies. [He makes an effort to sound playfully innocent as he fully hugs her from behind, the warmth of him against her back.] But only if you like. As ever, I am more than happy to follow along at your pace.
[He's been patient and no less adoring for it so far— a single night is hardly going to change that.]
[A pleasant shiver goes up her spine as he kisses her jawline and she feels her stiff mood soften once again. She finds that she could never be irate at Gale for too long, not when he willingly and freely showers her with affection like this.]
No promises on the fancies.
[She doesn't even sound as strict when saying that and she turns herself around so she can wrap one arm around Gale's shoulder; from this angle, he can see her smile again.]
[Her smile sends a surge of warmth through him; though it seems a rare sight for so many, it is one he finds himself looking forward to each and every day, as though it were the sun itself, and he acquiesces by leaning down to press a soft, heartfelt kiss against her lips, his arms still snugly around her waist. Brief though the kiss may be, he can taste just a hint of coffee on her lips, as he's sure she can taste on him, as well.]
[There's no other fanfare or boisterous manner in which she announces her return to Hotel Caelum. Amelia had been very clear and concise about how she wanted to check up on Blackgale, her high school, and other supernatural matters that needed her input. Additionally, this came with the approximate length of time she would be home and when she would come back.
"Two weeks, give or take. I will return."
It wasn't an exact promise, but she always had a way of saying things and 100% meaning it with little wiggle room for interpretation.
This was an unspoken promise that the Emerald Witch wasn't about to break. And thus, she sits in the hotel lobby, seated on one of the sofas, drinking a black coffee and reading a book, waiting for her beloved's reply or appearance. Either or.]
[In her absence, Gale had made certain to keep himself busy— it didn't take much to do so, considering he had already been deeply invested in using much of his time here at the hotel on some vitally important research regarding his situation, among other things. Other recent departures had come to weigh on him a bit, but Amelia's matter-of-fact reassurance that she only meant to handle some business back home before returning within a certain window of time kept him from worrying overmuch, even if he did find himself anticipating her return with an increasing sense of eagerness as the end of those two weeks drew nearer.
This afternoon finds him buried in his work in the small study in his room, hunched over a particularly delicate-looking old tome with his hair pulled half up to keep it from obscuring his vision and a pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Even as engrossed as he is, the shift in his attention is immediate when his phone alerts him to a new message, and he reaches for it with the hope that he'll see her name displayed on the screen for the first time in weeks.
At last. He's long due for a break, and he can't think of a better reason to take one than to welcome her back.]
I'll be there in the blink of an eye. Don't you dare move.
[It turns out that he'd been quite literal in his response; he leaves his work exactly where it is and uses an extended Blink spell rather than making his way to the elevator— a few seconds after his response, he appears in the lobby with a distinct pop!, wearing a broad smile.]
Well, well— welcome back, Ms. Steinbeck. I hope all was well in Blackgale?
[Of course she's drinking coffee and reading a book, looking as though she'd never even left the place and it's a day like any other. That's exactly like her.]
[He appears so suddenly, but she looks up, nonplussed.]
Gale.
[She closes her book, sets down her coffee and stands up to smooth out her skirt.]
You didn't even give me time to move. As for Blackgale, all is well. The town didn't set itself on fire during my absence which is all I could really ask for.
Perhaps I didn't want to give you the opportunity, just in case.
[As always, he meets her neutrality with his usual warmth and just a bit of teasing, and as she stands, he strides forward to close the distance between them.]
Very glad to hear all was as expected, just as I am glad the town can spare you a bit longer.
[Without ceremony, he puts his arms around her middle and hugs her against his chest, bringing his chin to rest atop her head.]
[Her arms lay by her sides as his arms wrap around her person before moving to hug him back and letting his warmth envelop her. Two weeks to her was a small amount of time but to others, it may feel quite substantial. Amelia knew that Gale would be fine in her absence, but...
You were missed.
There's more weight behind those words when it comes from him and knowing how much they treasured one another.
She gives him a squeeze]
I wasn't going to keep you waiting any longer than necessary.
[This place has certainly altered his perspective of time— he's had so much more of it than he'd expected to have at his disposal, and while two weeks here doesn't feel so terribly long at first, he has to consider just how much had happened during his last two weeks in Faerun. Depending on the circumstances, two weeks could mean a great deal.
Her absence had made it feel significantly longer; he'd suddenly found himself keenly aware that it was, by a large margin, the longest they had gone without seeing one another since meeting, and he had decided he didn't much care for it. Her reassurance as she hugs him in return brings a softer smile to his face, and he gives her a gentle squeeze of his own in reply.]
I never doubted for a moment, of course. You had things that needed tending to.
[But he is grateful that she hadn't wanted to make him wait— selfishly, perhaps, but knowing his own time is potentially limited brought more weight to that effort, as well. He loosens his hold just enough to step back so that he can look down at her properly, his hands loosely clasped behind her back.]
Your students did well on their exams, I hope? I imagine it was good to see Berna and the others again, as well.
[How long has it been since she's had someone waiting for her? Someone for her to come back to felt so novel, but the gentle squeeze from Gale is a reminder that it was a precious sort of thing.
Amelia smiles lightly at him as he pulls back and she makes a soft hum under her breath at his question.]
Some of them predictably fell behind, but most everyone else had put in their best efforts. I think everyone will be fine by the time the academic year ends.
As for Berna, she's in her workshop. I don't think I'll be seeing her for another few weeks or so, but that's usually a sign that she's perfectly fine.
[Before she continues, Amelia takes another step back, but keeps one hand over Gale's.]
How does a walk and then some lunch sound to you? I'll tell you more as we go.
[His smile warms further at her suggestion, his gaze fond as she takes her step back.]
That sounds perfect— I can think of nothing I'd like more.
[Before shifting, he takes the opportunity to lean down to give her a chaste but heartfelt kiss, a proper welcome back. It's more reserved than what his heart spurs him to do otherwise, but he'll not overwhelm her so soon after arriving, and certainly not in the lobby of all places.
Once she's had time to settle, perhaps.
He shifts so that they're comfortably arm-in-arm, happy to let her lead the way in this little stroll of theirs.]
I'll admit, I'm curious to know if you've had cause to mention this place while you were home. How did time flow there, while you've been away?
[His kiss is a welcome one; warm, encompassing, more than she could ever describe even in poetry. How embarrassing.
She leads him to the elevator and presses the button for the room that should bring them to the Vale of Tears once again. They could use the dreamy scenery and privacy.]
You bring up some interesting questions... To be honest, my visit back home felt vague. Not a significant amount of time had passed. Maybe a month at most? While here, I've been on vacation at Caelum for months now.
[The elevator door makes a light 'ding' and slides open to reveal the beautiful Vale.]
Admittedly, I decided not to think too hard about the mechanics of it. My mind would have wandered if I tried to box in the logistics.
[Amelia briefly leans her head against his shoulder as they walk out into the vivid spring-green grass.]
And then you would have waited for me for three weeks instead.
[The Vale of Tears is a welcome sight— the wondrous scenery alone makes it worth visiting, not to mention the fact that they'll almost be guaranteed privacy for as long as they like, but it holds some sentimental value for him, as well. The night they had first gone exploring here, helped one another past the obstacles it presented, took in its breathtaking sights— he'd first felt the spark then, at least for certain. In retrospect, he thinks it may have taken root even sooner than he knew, but here...
Here, he had realized how truly special she really was, how easy and natural her companionship felt despite her describing herself as difficult, how it was clear that he had met someone who understood how it was that he saw the world.
He gives her forearm a fond squeeze as they head out into the Vale itself, her head against his shoulder a more than welcome presence after so long apart. He'd gone without human touch for so long until shortly before meeting her that he'd thought two weeks, in the greater scheme of things, would be easy enough to manage. He had been terribly wrong, as it turns out.]
Interesting. It's certainly not unheard of, time passing differently between realms, but it's one thing to read or discuss a theory— another entirely to actually experience such a thing firsthand. Disorienting, I would imagine, but I consider myself very fortunate you chose not to let derail you. Three weeks.
[He shakes his head as he echoes her, putting a rather dramatic hand over his heart.]
Perish the thought. I've barely slept in two as is.
Edited (I found an embarrassing typo on time for once ) 2024-03-22 21:37 (UTC)
[The Vale of Tears is where everything between them truly began. She would have never saw it coming in a million tears, believing herself unable to entrust her heart to anyone else.
But here they are again and so much has changed already.
Like how Gale's wellbeing is one of her top priorities because, Mr. Waterdeep, please...!]
Two? Two days?
[That has unexpectedly made her brows furrow with concern before she straightens up and pauses when they stop in the shade of a giant mushroom. Amelia cups his face with her hands to examine him closely.]
That's bad for your health. I know what it's like to lose track of the clock, but you know better.
[He almost corrects her— it's been a rather rough two weeks, all told— but he chooses to bite his tongue, perhaps wisely. If she's already fussing over him this much, he can only imagine what that admission will inspire.
He laughs softly, raising a hand to rest over hers against his face as she stops to examine him beneath the mushroom, though he does turn his head as directed so that she can inspect him thoroughly.]
Ah, I admit, some of it was due to getting a bit caught up in my work, but I rather meant—
[He raises a loose fist to cover his mouth as he clears his throat.]
Something a bit more romantic? I slept enough, surely, but it turns out I've become quite accustomed to having company.
The clarification gives her pause and then slowly, but surely, redness creeps into her cheeks as she sheepishly turns her gaze to the grass beneath their feet.
Yes, they've been together for a significant amount of time and have been intimate in more ways than one, and she still reacts like this. Amelia doesn't know whether she's in her 70s or a foolish young woman sometimes.]
Then... Yes. Yes, it's... Been a while now, hasn't it?
[The flush in her cheeks manages to take him by surprise even now, and it only takes the space of a single heartbeat for him to guess what she must have inferred.]
Oh! Goodness, I didn't mean— well, I didn't not mean—
[He certainly hadn't meant anything terribly blushworthy by it on the surface, but he supposes it's all rather tied up together, isn't it? To say that he hadn't missed that as well would have been a lie, of course, but it was the who that mattered to him, far more than the what.
He exhales as he stumbles over his words, then laughs softly as he takes her face between his hands and gently tips it back upwards so he can meet her gaze, collecting himself enough to find his composure again.]
I only meant that I missed you dearly. I've become quite accustomed to your company, you know.
[And he's grown quite fond of waking up beside her whenever he has the opportunity, regardless of what may or may not have happened the night before.]
Amelia will internally scream at herself until morale improves.
Gale cupping her face with his hands simultaneously and paradoxically soothes her and causes warmth to creep across the surface of her skin. Her own gaze is evasive, but it's not like there's much room to escape his eyes and his soft laughter that makes her heart beat faster.]
I mean... I didn't just mean that, but— oh, forget it.
[Her hands find rest on his forearms as she inhales and exhales to relax herself.]
[He shakes his head, taking a step forward to narrow the distance between them— it would seem they're both intent on tying themselves up in knots over saying or doing the right thing, whatever that may happen to be. Something of this magnitude was quite new for the both of them, and for better or for worse, they were both perfectionists in their own way.]
You are perfectly fine, just as you are.
[He huffs a laugh, his smile quirking to one side.]
I think we're both overthinking this a bit. I do know that I'm overjoyed to see you again, my heart.
[He leans down to kiss her properly then, lingering longer than the last time; not enough to incite anything, but he allows just a touch of heat to peek through. He murmurs the next part against her lips; he knows it may earn him a playful swat, but if she's already blushing—
Well, he simply can't have her thinking she was the only one with that sort of reunion in mind.]
And if I have my way, no one will see you emerge from your rooms for the next two days.
[Gale is absolutely not helping, not when he kisses her so sweetly and warmly and not when he declares something like that. Predictably, Amelia turns redder and although she returns his kiss, she lets out a huff and reaches up with one hand to bump her palm against his forehead.]
Clearly, I should have taken the third week if you're already promising to over deliver.
[Here he thought he was being incredibly helpful. He laughs as she gently bumps against his forehead, pulling back to reach up and rub at the spot with a wince as he feigns injury. He definitely deserved that, but he can't help but think it was well worth it.]
I don't know if either of us would be able to handle the dire state you would have returned to find me in if you had.
[He's already been suffering from those third-degree yearns as it is.]
I don't dare to imagine the condition I could theoretically inflict upon you.
[She rolls her eyes because sometimes, Gale of Waterdeep was a bit much. Amelia takes one hand in his to lead them past the babbling brook and smaller waterfalls so they can make their way further into the Vale.]
That said... Let's not... Overdo it if we're going to...
[A bit much? Him? He certainly takes her response in stride easily enough, his smile hitching wider. He is, at least, moderately self-aware.]
Right. Of course.
[He squeezes her hand as he allows himself to be led forward, raising his free hand to rest over his heart.]
I will be the perfect picture of gentlemanly moderation. For the present, however, there is a lovely sense of nostalgia, returning to this place with you.
The butterflies draw his gaze briefly, and he chuckles softly as they steadily walk towards the sound of rushing water.]
I quite like that. I've mentioned it in passing, but have never brought myself to tell anyone else where it is, or all that we saw here. I don't know that I much like the idea of sharing it, come to think of it.
[They'd learned a lot about one another here, that much was for certain.]
[She remembers that they had witnessed the fragments and echoes of each other's pasts. Gale eventually revealed all that ailed him even up until now. Amelia hadn't.
They make it to the crying statue soon enough and she muses over what he just said.]
I hope that me crying wasn't what made you realize that.
[He gives a shake of his head, though his warm smile persists.]
No, no— quite some time before that, though I was quite touched that you felt able to be so open in front of me, even if only for a moment.
[His gaze is drawn to the statue, as well; he gazes up at it as he had then, and it is just as striking a visual as it had been the first time, a curiosity to be explored.]
It was right about here, in fact. We proved ourselves to be a rather remarkable team for the first time, that day.
I won't pretend otherwise— I like to think I have a rather romantic spirit.
[He does often get caught up in the poetry of things; even beyond the standard definition of romance, he's always been one to wear his heart on his well-tailored sleeve, a man driven by his passions despite his own knack for logic.]
Though I can't say I expected things to turn out as they have, either. Truth be told, I'd rather thought myself done with romance entirely.
[It hadn't been so long before his arrival that he'd been so certain that Mystra would hold his heart forever, that he would have done anything to find himself back in her good graces. It seems ages ago, now.]
[Considering what he told her about his circumstances with Mystra and how it's led to his current condition, Amelia couldn't blame him if he had sworn off romance entirely. She certainly would if she had been in his position.
She lets go of his hand so that both of hers can rest behind her back. Even over the din of the bubbling and splashing waterfall, the playfulness in her voice can't be missed.]
I apologize for dragging you back into the whirlpool of it then. Abruptness is an ongoing theme with me after all.
[He laughs even as she pulls her hand away, letting his own hands come to rest on his hips.]
Yes, you really ought to be. It's been absolutely terrible, having my faith in such things restored.
[The playfulness in her voice makes him smile, and he looks briefly in the other direction as though to take in the scenery before turning sharply on his heel, reaching quickly to grab her by her waist and letting his fingers lightly play against her sides before he puts his arms around her from behind, unwilling to let her play coy for long.]
Minx. I find I quite enjoy the whirlpool, so long as it's in your most excellent company. [More seriously, he goes on to add:] My time with you has reminded me that a future is something well worth fighting for.
Edited (I thought of something else gross for him to say ) 2024-04-09 03:02 (UTC)
[He heaves an over-exaggerated sigh for punctuation, though his persistent smile is still quite apparent in the warmth of his voice.]
I can't risk you slipping away again. While I most certainly support your tending to your responsibilities elsewhere, I'll have it known that I've been exceedingly patient in your absence, which does, scientifically, make the heart grow fonder.
[It's been proven, he's quite certain.]
I think everyone else can wait just a bit longer, hm?
[This man, seriously... How has she managed to handle him after all this time? Amelia turns to face him with her hands traveling up his arms.]
That is the talk of a man who I feel is most certainly becoming impatient as time passes.
I think I can fix that.
[What else is there to be said? Two weeks is a long time. Her hands cup Gale's face as she pulls him into another kiss and it's very warm and very purposeful with its growing heat.]
I think I've earned a bit of impatience at this point, don't you?
[The question is equal parts playful and rhetorical, the trailing of her hands up the length of his arms answer enough in itself, and he leans down to meet her easily as she cups his face and kisses him with intent, returning it with heat and intent of his own as he slides his fingers into her hair as he lays his hand against the side of her face and curls an arm around her waist, all too eager to pull her flush against him.
It feels right, to share this moment here.
His own kiss is insistent, as full of longing as it is ardent heat, and it's only when he's forced to break for breath that he takes a brief moment to murmur against her lips:]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
un: steinbeck
Did you like "Puss in Boots?"
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I did, thank you very much! I shared it with Tara afterwards, as you suggested. She very proudly remarked that only a cat could be so clever.
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[how do I continue a conversation I started]
Did you sleep well after?
[nailed it]
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As a matter of fact, I did. I think you had the right idea, ending the night with fairy tales after all that stimulating discussion. The whole evening was a great success.
[There, if he includes that bit, it's enough of a buffer, isn't it?]
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Sorry, I should clarify my question.
I meant to ask if you slept well after we left the library since you weren't in a comfortable position when we were there.
[Phrasing.]
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Ahem. Right.]
Of course; my mistake. Actually, I found it a bit difficult to settle back in to sleep once I was back to my own room. Thought it best to start the day, but I don't believe I suffered too terribly for sitting up all night. Crawling through caves and the like while trying to avoid attention is far worse for one's back.
I should have asked you the same, however. My manners are abysmal. Were you able to get further rest?
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As for myself, I slept well although I needed to distract myself beforehand to settle down. I tried not to do any work since that would have the opposite effect of getting me to sleep.
Listening to classical music helped in that regard.
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You found yourself in need of distraction?
[Was she thinking about what had happened as much as he had been?]
Music does often have a soothing effect on the soul, I've found. We likely have different ideas of what qualifies as "classical," given our differing frames of reference. I still find it incredible that music can be listened to so freely here.
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[Was she thinking about their library sleepover? It's likely but it's also unlikely she'd reveal such a thing over text.]
There are so many genres of music as there are books. Depending on the book, sometimes I'll find a specific type of melody to accompany my reading.
For classical music, I could share what's from my world if you'd like.
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That there are so many different genres doesn't surprise me in the least. It's wide availability without needing to be performed live is still quite astounding. There are devices and even spells that can capture or play a particular song, but nothing like what I've seen here. I would be quite keen to take you up on that offer and hear what your own world has to offer.
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[Technology!]
This piece is called "Waltz of Flowers." Normally it would be played with a full orchestra to accompany the dance but I think this piano performance is excellent too.
[She sends him the music clip where he can just press play to listen to the Waltz of Flowers in all of its classical and elegant glory.]
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Such marvels will never cease to amaze me.
I don't believe I've ever heard a piece quite like this one. Its complexity shines through despite the lack of a full orchestra, the piano having a broad range of expression all on its own. It's quite stirring, not to mention lovely. It really is amazing, what music is able to accomplish.
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If it's possible, would you be able to share music from your world?
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My condition, unfortunately, has stripped me of the greatest of my powers. Though I have regained some, I've not tried this particular trick in quite some time. I would certainly be willing to try, though I fear I may disappoint.
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[That condition of his... She is concerned but she had also told Gale to tell her more about it when he's ready. Amelia at this point would rather be hands off though she will ask:]
Do you think being in this hotel, the effects of your condition are stalled, so to speak?
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I have given the hotel's potential impact some thought. I do believe that the progressive problem I had mentioned to you is, at the moment, in stasis. I also think that I may be able to call on the latent power in the hotel itself to aid my own, with some practice, which is quite promising.
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That said, as confident as I am in my own abilities this place is certainly on another level.
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[This got Real Honest, though he's not terribly secretive about most of this.]
I've never quite seen anyplace like this, even in all my travels as Mystra's Chosen. It's power is far greater than site I've ever had occasion to visit on the material plane.
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Gale was an oddly honest man, an oddly honest wizard. Not that the magickind that she's known isn't honest, but there is a reason why she's only stuck to Berna and Michael as her true magic-minded companions. She was satisfied with them (even if things with Michael didn't work out). Everyone else in their small population was distant, cryptic, self-interested, or already part of their own circles with no room for her.
But here was Gale of Waterdeep, friendly, all smiles, and so warm towards her, prickly and thorny as she is. Even Amelia found herself seeking him out and that is something that takes effort for everyone else whom she keeps at arm's length or deals in a strictly platonic manner. He had the attributes to draw people towards him and be a highly decorated wizard, but the revelation in the Vale told a different story and it wasn't one of success and glory.
Several minutes later, she sends him a new message.]
I wanted to ask you about that. About Mystra and what being a Chosen means.
But that's probably not a conversation you'd want over texting.
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It is something that he feels he ought to share with anyone he considers a friend, and he certainly considers Amelia that at the very least— but the right moment hadn't presented itself. Given how they had spent their night in the library and his conversation with Astarion, it's better if he explains himself sooner rather than later. If she hadn't asked, he likely would have found himself offering before long, but it would seem the moment has arrived quite naturally.]
It is better explained in person, yes, but I would be happy to answer any questions you may have. In that same vein, there are some things I have been meaning to tell you about how I came to be who I am now.
Speaking face-to-face with you is never a hardship, I assure you. I made some turnovers to my mother's recipe earlier this afternoon, if you're interested.
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Gale, you're a baker too??
[She is, I say, she is astounded. In a good way!]
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[Girl, those apple crumble cupcakes at book club were homemade.]
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(He mentioned his mother and his last name has been revealed too. It's a very fitting one.)]
I'll bring over some tea then to go with the turnovers.
And I'll be ready in 15 minutes.
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By all means, take all the time you need. Regardless, I look forward to it.
[Fortunately, his suite is already prepared for company, the library and living space intended to be a welcoming and comforting environment at all times. He'd had Astarion over for coffee and Serious Discussion earlier; this recreation of his favorite part of his tower in Waterdeep has seen more company in one day than the real one had seen in well over a year. Funny, how things have changed.]
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This would only be the second time she's ever visited a fellow guest's room she realizes. The first time, she had tea with Kaveh and he was completely different from hers so she was curious to see what Gale's looked like.]
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Amelia! Please, please, come in— a pleasure to see you, as always.
[The main living space is a library in its own right; there's a large sofa with a a table in front of it and a lit fireplace, but the rest of the room is almost wall-to-wall shelves, most full of books. Those that aren't bear various trinkets and devices, bottles and herbs, and the far side of the main room boasts a pair of doors framed by heavy curtains that open out onto a balcony. The balcony itself looks out over a cityscape— one that is certainly not native, but with stunning old-world architecture and an enormous harbor beyond it.]
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Thank you for having me.
[She's glancing back and forth at the interior and while her face doesn't show it (of course) she's impressed with how much it's shaped to suit Gale. It's unmistakably his room, very different from hers where it's styled to be similar to her own house, which is a mix of modern, vintage, and cottage-like elements.
And she had a lot of books too. Two bookworms in a pod as ever, the both of them.
Her back is to Gale as she looks out at the balcony and at the cityscape, knowing that it isn't necessarily real (there are limits to the hotel she's noted) but the witch is curious nonetheless.]
Am I correct to assume that this is a view of Waterdeep that's shaped itself for you?
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[He sounds quite pleased to confirm that, closing the door behind them before he moves to join her— though with her back turned, he can't help but notice that her sweater isn't quite as modest as it had appeared from the front. Not inappropriate by any stretch, but certainly surprising, given what he's seen her wear up until now.
He clears his throat softly, coming to stand beside her near the doors to the balcony.]
Just a bit of home, even if it's only an illusion. Much of this space is modeled after my tower's sitting room— the balcony there is my favorite place in the entire world.
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sorry her bare back broke DW for a bit thereHer admiration for the scenery grows. The view from her window at home is a corner in the neighborhood surrounded by trees and her well-cared-for flower garden. Cozy, intimate, and private. The bit of home that Gale has with him here is also cozy but it implies a bigger world outside of that window, more than just the City of Splendors itself.
Unaware that she's caused any reaction with her casual outfit, Amelia looks up at Gale.]
How long have you been away from home since then, not counting the time we've been here? You and Astarion had been traveling for a while, yes?
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it was too lewdHe takes a moment to consider, folding his arms across his chest as he tallies up the time.]
By now, we've been here longer than we were on the road, though I don't mean to diminish the time we spent traveling. So much happened during that time, it seems like it must have been far longer than it was— but dire circumstances do bring people together quite quickly, no matter what world they're in.
[Circumstances had demanded that they come to know one another quickly, trust one another, and time was of the essence in everything they did. Their experiences had already changed each and every one of those involved fundamentally.]
I do admit to feeling a bit homesick at times, but even back in Faerun, I have much to do before I can return to Waterdeep.
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[And here's Amelia and the last thing she remembers was getting ready to deep dive into the middle of the first semester and get her students ready for their district writing assessments. It was also around the time she should have been feeding the Blue Moon Belly, but she knows there are other people who can take care of that.
But she suddenly misses home.
She moves from the balcony and looks for a table to set her box down.]
I can start making the tea. I have two types of black tea, and several herbal blends if that's more of your taste for this time of day.
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Of course! My apologies— here we are.
[He turns towards the room proper, waving a hand so that the nearby table is suddenly set with a tablecloth, two cups, saucers and a silver teapot. In addition, a plate of turnovers has appeared, and he proceeds to pull one of the chairs out to offer her a seat.]
Black tea sounds perfect. No doubt I'll be up late into the night regardless, but feel free to surprise me. I'm sure both are splendid.
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Amelia takes a seat but takes the silver teapot and gets to work to engrave a few runes. One to summon water and another to start heating it up. Soon, steam starts to puff from the spout and she opens the lid to add the teabag.]
There. It should steep for about a minute and it'll be ready.
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[He takes his seat opposite her, and despite the serious nature of the topic that had brought her here, his high spirits seem to be quite genuine. He's always been a personable sort who has enjoyed the company of others, but now that he's aware of the fact that he enjoys hers especially, he can't help but feel a bit lighter, even considering the weight of what he'll be sharing with her in a few moments.
He plucks one of the pastries from the plate beside the teapot, neatly pulling off a corner.]
So. Naturally, you have question. For the most part, I'm an open book. I've been meaning to share much of this with you regardless— since before our venturing into the Vale some weeks back, when your own magic caused that reaction.
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("He'd be a hit at bake sales. Both the baked goods and him," thinks Amelia, already envisioning a crowd of suburban mothers swarming a table being run by Gale.)
oops, her mind wandered for a second but it's a good thing she keeps a drywall face
The tea is properly steeped so she'll pour it into both cups for the both of them.]
Yes... Of course, I was wondering about that.
If it's alright with you, I wanted to know what being "Mystra's Chosen" was about and how it relates to your current condition.
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Of course. Many gods and goddesses select a "Chosen," a mortal who will serve as their agent. Some will take several in succession, some one at a time— some, none at all. I drew Mystra's attention at a young age— I was a prodigy, you see.
[For all his confidence and occasional theatrics, there doesn't seem to be an ounce of conceit in that statement; he simply speaks as though it were fact.]
Favored by Mystra, I was able to develop my natural talent with the goddess of magic herself to serve as my muse, with a Chosen of ages past to serve as my mentor— the greatest wizard our world has ever seen. As Chosen, I was her hand among mortals. I sought out and destroyed forbidden magic, helped to preserve the balance, did my part to ensure her Weave was not used for wicked deeds. I was her blade— and in turn, she was everything to me. Goddess, teacher— lover.
[His voice falters slightly, though only just; a note of disappointment as he reflects on his past self, how much of himself he had been willing to give to someone who now demanded he sacrifice himself for a chance at forgiveness.]
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But they did not love him back. And it's hard to say if he actually "loved." From the sound of it, Mystra had a degree of affection for those who followed her, comprehensible even and Gale was involved with her in that manner.]
... So what happened? For you to fall out of favor with her, I mean.
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I was too ambitious. In some ways, it can be a person's greatest strength. To never be satisfied with what you've accomplished, never be content with all you've managed to learn— surely, that is to be commended, yes? A desire to push forward, to become a better version of yourself.
[He shakes his head, pausing for a sip of his tea before setting the cup down.]
I had all anyone could want. I was revered among my fellow wizards, celebrated among academics. I had power that rivaled even that of my own mentor— Elminster Aumar, the greatest wizard who ever lived. I had the favor of the goddess of magic herself, shared her bed, and still I wanted more. I reached too far.
[He frowns slightly, his brow furrowing.]
I failed to learn from history itself, and thought that where my predecessors failed, surely I would succeed. I defied Mystra's wishes and used forbidden magic to retrieve a piece of her power, one that had been stolen from her previous incarnation, wishing to return it to her. It was meant to be a way to prove myself, that I was capable of yet more— a labor of love. As I'm sure you can guess, things did not go to plan.
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Amelia sees a regretful Gale in front of her as he lists off all of what he had before. The admiration of his peers, mentoring from one of the greatest wizards, and the love of a goddess herself, never mind how messy that relationship sounded in her modern point of view. What surprises her the most out of all of that is how Gale readily admits how he wanted more, how those accolades weren't enough. His greed is similar to witches in her world.
What Amelia has learned over the years is that witches are greedy, helpful, yearning, and wanting. They wanted to grasp difficult and intangible things and it's such a strong, unreasonable drive that contributes to their unnatural lifespan.
But Gale's hubris circled back to something much more basic; he called it a labor of love and what could be more human than that?
She sips her tea, letting the heat and malty taste clarify her senses before she replies.]
It sounds as if you were well-intentioned.
[Though as they say, the road of good intentions leads to hell.]
How come you couldn't return that power to her? Were you mistaken about it somewhere along the way?
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It was a display of raw power, presented as a romantic gesture. Between the two, I was certain she would at last deem me worthy to explore the Weave beyond what other mortals had been allowed to achieve, rather than continuing to tell me to be contented. I was terribly mistaken. When I obtained that shard of her power...
[He pauses, frowning slightly as he shakes his head, and he puts his hand over his own heart.]
You remember how this glowed, reacting to the touch of your own magic? That fragment of the Weave itself made its home in me— perhaps should have killed me outright, but it did not. It made me its vessel and hungered for more, demanding to be fed by potent magic, traces of the Weave itself. In my attempts to return a jewel to my goddess' crown, I instead found myself blighted by ancient magic so powerful that if it were ever to fully destabilize, it would level the entirety of Waterdeep itself, perhaps more. The result would be devastating.
[He sighs, his expression uncharacteristically grim. For the most part, Amelia has seen him to be someone who is usually in good spirits, optimistic, but it's safe to say that this is never far from his mind. It weighs on him, day in and day out.]
All this, even before the 'condition' I had mentioned to you before. At least that, should it progress, will only be my end. This... this is a problem I must solve before that time comes, if it does. I can grieve what I lost, but it was my own folly that cost me. What I will not abide is others paying the price for my foolishness.
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A creeping uncertainty trickles into the back of her mind, an anxiety that she hadn't felt in quite some time.
(Someone's going to leave again, they'll be gone no matter what I do, it's not worth trying to hold on if it's going to make me...)
Amelia swallows it down and sets her teacup aside.]
Do you think when I cast that rune back then, that fragment within absorbed it? Or was it just a reaction?
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I don't believe so, no— simply a reaction, as you said. The feeling when it does absorb something is very... unique, shall we say.
[Which is a gentle way of saying that it's incredibly painful, but he isn't telling her any of this tale to mine for sympathy. It is to be transparent, to be honest about who he really is. His mistakes, and their consequences. They are, first and foremost, friends. Even if he's become acutely aware of the fact that he would like to be more—
It would be unfair, to pursue any such thing without telling her the truth, bordering on unethical. It's a lot to ask anyone to bear, even a friend.]
I was granted one boon, not so long before coming here. Elminster found me at Mystra's behest, and made use of a charm to offer the orb stability, while charging me with a particular task. The orb will no longer erupt without my say so, as long as I still live. What may happen after, I cannot say. It is imperative to me to find a way to diffuse or remove it before my time comes.
[He glances at her, his gaze carefully guarded— unusual, for him— and curls both hands around his teacup. His turnover, for the moment, is forgotten.]
I'm sure you can see why I've fallen out of Mystra's favor, having defied her so. For a time, finding a way to redeem myself and earn a way back into her good graces was all I could think of— apart from keeping myself alive.
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Amelia abruptly stands up from her seat with her hands lying flat on the table.]
Gale, is there a reason why you would want to even make that thing blow up?
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The Heart of the Absolute. It is the power at the very core of the crisis the Sword Coast is currently facing— the power that is responsible for the condition Astarion and I both suffer, along with our companions. Should the Absolute be allowed to continue to carry out its nefarious plans, the Sword Coast and beyond will be overrun with an Illithid army. It will change Faerun as we know it. The task I was given by Mystra, through my mentor, was to destroy it. It would mean sacrificing myself.
[He knows, of course, how that sounds, and he puts up a hand to stay any potential interruption.]
For some time, I was convinced I would do exactly that. It would save countless lives— and if I was dying anyway, better that it have meaning, serve a greater purpose. I was prepared to use the orb to bring an end to the Absolute itself, only when we found the heart, we discovered that it was being controlled by mortals through the use of a powerful ancient artifact. In that moment, I realized there could be another way— a better way. And—
[He pauses again, exhaling steadily.]
For the first time in a very long time, I would like to live.
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But it's been almost over a month since they've ended up in Hotel Caelum. Almost a month since she started to get to know these people and slowly started to open up her heart whether she was aware of it or not and...
Was any of this worth it?
The witch sits back down, stunned.]
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[He doesn't expect her to say much. What is there to be said? He's hardly looking for sympathy, for pity, for someone to tell him that none of this was his own fault after all— he'd come to terms with that long ago.
But it was important to be honest. This was too much a part of him not to share, and Amelia had glimpsed more of who he was in his own world than most others had the opportunity to here.]
Your friendship has come to mean a great deal to me. I would certainly understand if you were to think less of me because of my foolishness, but I promise you, you are in no danger. As it stands, I am in control of the situation— as much as one can be.
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[Amelia lets out a frustrated sigh and runs one hand through her hair as she tries to process everything that he's revealed to her. More importantly, she's having to do the unwanted work of understanding why this is upsetting her so specifically even when he tries to reassure her.
Friendship. Yes, that's what this was between them (if there's more, the witch is still too reluctant to see it as such), a seed that was sown since the first day that they met and why Amelia eased into Gale's company more easily than others. And now she finally forces herself to confess internally that their friendship is why all of this is upsetting. Something new but good in her life had a looming chance of ending all too soon.
When she speaks up there's an attempt for a measured tone but there's a tenseness that holds back how she truly feels.]
Are you sure? Is there anything anyone could... Could I do something?
[Reckless? Yes, it is, especially since Amelia was the one who suggested different magic streams shouldn't be crossed so thoughtlessly.
She stands up, too riled up to sit still, and paces back and forth.]
Extraction, forced dormancy, pour that corruption into something else... Anything?
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I admit that if anyone here could, it would likely be you, given your experience, but...
[He, too, gets to his feet, and when she paces back towards the table, he gently catches her by the wrist in hopes of getting her to stand still, just for a moment.]
Amelia. This is not your burden to bear. Extraction... that would be too great a risk to you, to everyone here. If you were to come to harm trying to help me, I wouldn't be able to bear it.
[The other options may have merit, but the sentiment remains the same. He doesn't want anyone else to come to harm.]
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Just as she's about to sink further into the dark rabbit hole of her thoughts and past experiences, Gale's hand upon her wrist stops her. She can't bear to look at him, not with the pain behind her eyes.]
... You can't just say that after you told me so much.
[There would have been more bite in her voice if not for the tiredness that colors it instead. Her hand is limp in his grasp but she doesn't pull away.]
... Gale? Maybe it's not so surprising but I don't have many friends. [Amelia swallows.]
Circumstances aside, I'm obstinate and ornery, and many things bother me, including other people and—
[She's not sure where she's going for this. Perhaps the underlying question she wants to ask him is "Why me?"]
—And when there's a problem in front of me, I have a bad habit of being unable to ignore it.
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She is, admittedly, all of the things she's listed. They're all qualities he's come to find endearing, even admirable, but as he's glimpsed bits and pieces of who she is beneath that careful, professional way she presents herself, he's reminded of what he'd said to her that first morning over breakfast.
It sounds like a very lonely way to live.
Though he may not know all of her reasoning, he knows her well enough to know by now that she's very cautious about who she lets in, who she calls friend.]
You're right. It's not my decision, however much I would hate to see you come to harm. It's yours. And if you're being kind enough to offer your aid—
[He catches himself, and gives another shake of his head as his voice falters slightly, tired. The affable wizard he's shown their fellow guests day in and day out almost seems a stranger in this moment, feels almost like a past life, an echo of who he was before all of this.]
It would be foolish of me to refuse it. I should consider myself so lucky to have so devoted a friend. But before you may any further decisions— you should know what you're dealing with in full. I will not blame you in the least if you change your mind, though I know you are not the kind to do so easily.
[Still holding her wrist, he goes down on one knee, guiding her hand towards his chest.]
Place your hand over my heart.
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second, it doesn't happen. Instead, she leans down so she's more at face-level with Gale. Her other hand grips her thigh as she Envisions a series of protection runes around her body.
Aside from that first time when her single magic rune caused a reaction, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen. Her hand makes contact with his chest. Now that they’re so close, the pulse in her wrist is more noticeable as is the trembling in her fingers. She makes it stop and then nods at Gale.]
Show me.
[What more could be said? They’re both in too deep to back out now.]
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There is nothing further to be said. He closes his eyes and focuses inward, on the power that has been eating away at his insides for the last year. Even now, stabilized by Elminster through Mystra's own grace, it is clear that its power is only barely contained, trapped in a delicate cage and threatening to tear through its very bars. The orb marking on his chest glows bright once more, much as it had in the corridor that day weeks earlier, snaking its way up the tendrils that curl along his neck— then glows brighter still, almost blindingly so, a light that seems a stark contrast to what lies within.
The feeling pulls at her, recognizing a life outside of its own host, and it is a gnawing, black, hungry thing. A gaping void that longs for more, refuses to be sated, beating against the inside of his chest as it longs to escape. It is starved, aching to consume, unquestionably destructive. Beneath the warmth of his chest there's the faint chill of something otherworldly, a necrotic energy that threatens to chill any who touch it down to their very bones, but there is one sensation that persists stronger than all others. That longing for more, that hunger, that wanting.
His eyes remain closed, but Gale grits his teeth as he feels the pain of his burden grow more pronounced, his shoulders and grip tense as he steels himself, forces himself to remain upright. It's felt worse in the past— but for awhile, this place has allowed him to feel almost normal again, despite the dull, gnawing ache that continually haunts him.]
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But it barely protects her against the sinister chill beneath the surface. The sensation homes in on the witch and her magic, teething, knawing, wanting more. This would horrify anyone and truthfully the gravity of it all makes her grit her teeth. Instead of drawing back after the display of formidable, devastating power, Amelia drops to her knees, her palm continuing to press against the orb. How could she turn from Gale when he is showing her something that caused him such obvious pain?
The Emerald Witch is many things, but frightened and terrified in the face of deadly arcane forces? Over her dead body.]
Gale! [Her other hand cups his face. Smaller runes fly off of her fingertips and travel across his skin, down his neck and around the orb.]
Gale, that's enough. I won't let it hurt anymore.
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He catches a glimpse of the runes flying from her fingertips as he opens his eyes, but finds his gaze fixed on her instead, and where some people would have drawn back, staggered away in horror, she stands firm, stubborn, determined.
"I won't let it hurt anymore."
He finds himself equal parts touched and overwhelmed, and any words he might have had stick in his throat for a moment. He feels a surge of something else within his chest, something that has nothing to do with magic at all, and finds himself almost frightened by the impulse that threatens to overtake him then, to lean in and—
He swallows it down, shoves it aside, and exhales as he releases his hold on her wrist, worried that he might have gripped too hard while bracing himself.]
... thank you.
[For all the ways she chooses to describe herself, she is incredibly kind.]
You aren't hurt at all? I apologize, I— lost myself for a moment, I'm afraid.
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Part of it, she realizes as releases her wrist, is that he really was afraid that she would reject and distance herself from him. Was he afraid of that happening if he told his other acquaintances in this hotel?]
I'm not hurt.
[It's true. There's too much adrenaline running through her as well as her reactive magic from the roots of her hair to the tips of her fingers to really register any pain. That or the orb did numb her but never mind the effects of it coming into contact with her magic.
Amelia uses her free hand to cup the other side of Gale's face. She's studying him carefully as they both settle down and she uses some of her fingers to brush some stray strands of his hair away from his eyes and behind his ears.]
And don't apologize to me. I'm not the one heaving and about to keel over.
[There it is, the return of her no-nonsense curtness.]
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Surely, she'll think nothing of it. A side-effect of the exertion he had just put himself through, if it shows at all.]
I'll be fine. I've had time to grow used to it, for better or worse. It's always been at its worst when needing to be fed, but the method I once used had lost effectiveness over time. It's stable enough, for the time being.
[He looks at her searchingly, both of them on their knees, his face still caught between her hands, and he carefully lifts his own again to lightly touch her forearm.]
What did you do? Whatever it was, I believe it helped.
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My magic and generally speaking, magic as a whole in my world operates as a language. Or rather, a series of intricate otherworldly languages, each serving a different purpose.
[She puts her palm down and rests both of her hands on her thighs, still examining other out there signs on Gale's person.]
What I applied are some passive runes that are used for calming, numbing, and serenity—anything that I Envisioned could lessen whatever you were feeling. Of course, you have the reins so it wouldn't have worked half as well without that factoring in.
... I don't think it's absorbed my runes yet. I felt its pull but it couldn't take anything from me. Probably because of the measures your mentor and Mystra took to keep it settled for now.
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Very quick and clever thinking, though I would expect nothing less from you. I'll say it once more—
[He meets her gaze again, holding it for a moment.]
Thank you. For your effort, of course, but not only that. As I'm sure you can imagine, not everyone would have handled what I shared with as much grace as you have.
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... You're welcome. I'm hardly the most graceful individual if past circumstances are any indication— [coughPockycough]
—But there are attempts. I've faced my fair share of arcane dangers in the past few decades so it's made me hardened for better or for worse.
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[She's only shown him the smallest fraction of her power and what it's capable of, and told him little of herself beyond a broad overview of her responsibilities and what she does for a living, but like recognizes like— power recognizes power, and no one with such power is ever without their own share of challenges.]
Facing such obstacles is what makes us who we are— as you said, for better or for worse. Personally, I'm inclined to think in your case, it's for the better.
[Perhaps in his, as well, as he does his best to learn from his mistakes, but:]
You always refer to yourself as hardened or difficult, but I've only known you to be kind. Competitive, perhaps. [There's a faint twinkle in his eye as one corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a playful, if tired, smile.] I'll not forget that anytime soon.
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When Gale makes mention of her being competitive over that, well.
She suddenly reaches over to ruffle and muss up his hair in retaliation.]
Don't be rude.
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I hardly meant it to be rude. It's a trait we happen to share, if you'll recall, but I—
[He catches himself for a moment, clearing his throat before his smile turns just a touch sheepish, his mannerisms bright and boyish once more, but not so much that he averts his gaze. In fact, it remains fixed on her, fond.]
Actually, I found it to be quite charming.
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Amelia wants to dismiss it.
But Gale's smile, the friendliness in his eyes that has been gained by her willingness to not turn away is making it harder.
She glances in the other direction.]
I thought that would have been the first warning sign that would give you pause, Gale.
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[He is many things, he knows, both good and ill, but he is not that. He watches her avert her gaze, and carefully tries to discern if it's because the affection is unwelcome, or if it's simply the result of her not being terribly used to letting people close to her. Even friendship, she'd told him, was a rarity.
He takes care to let his next statement remain somewhat more neutral, though the warmth hasn't left him.]
I think we've both proven that we're the sort of people who like a good challenge. Stubborn to the last. An unchallenged mind quickly grows quite dull.
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Mm. True.
As I have learned during this visitation, you are extremely and overly complex. No wonder you needed a vacation.
[got'im]
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Far moreso than I've been willing to admit, to others or myself. It's been a welcome reprieve, for a number of reasons.
[Yes, yes, she got'im.]
A year of self-imposed isolation didn't quite fit the bill. This place has room service, at the very least.
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This isn't the time to bring that up. In fact, she hasn't shared much of herself at all while Gale had been more than willing to be vulnerable to her.]
... Thank you though. For telling me and showing me your burdens.
[He wouldn't have told her if he hadn't treasured their burgeoning relationship and if he didn't implicitly trust her to not say a word to anyone else. The significance of this is illuminating and humbling. Intimidating, especially in light of how she's kept so much to herself except for that memory fragment in the Vale.]
Even after all that happened and what you're expected to do, you've been very trusting. I haven't done much to earn that but I'm glad you consider me worthy of it.
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[He answers her easily, matter-of-fact.]
That's reason enough for me. It may come as a surprise to you, but I've not had terribly many friends, either— at least not lately. Things were different in school, but afterwards, I became so consumed by my work, my ambitions... besides.
[He laughs softly, raising a hand to tap his finger against his temple.]
I like to think I have a good sense about people. I trust you.
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It's a simple but profound decoration, enough to knock her out. She bows her head so that her hair drapes and covers the sides of her face so that he can't possibly see how red her face is turning.]
I don't—
["I don't deserve it," she wants to protest but she stops herself and just brings her knees to her chest to rest her forehead on them.
Why is she so bad at this?]
That's too much.
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I apologize.
[His voice softens, though there's an uncertain note to his voice as he wonders just what it was he'd said that had struck poorly.]
I... I overstepped.
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[Her head moves up again and when she looks at the wizard... It's just unmistakably blushing. She quickly moves one hand up to cover some of her face, but it's no use.]
You didn't do anything. I just don't...
[Words are failing her. Her heart is beating. Amelia knows and is immensely touched by this amount of trust from Gale and it's even more overwhelming than any orb of destructive magic.]
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Not what he expected, but he feels his own face color slightly in turn.]
I'm beginning to think you're not used to being offered your due of compliments. This, however, is simply the truth. In bits and pieces, you've seen some of the worst of me.
[The orb, the circumstances leading to it making its home within him, that memory in the Vale, even his pettiness at book club.]
Even so, you're still here, offering me your aid and understanding. If that is not worthy of trust, what is?
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Her behavior is puzzling and odd, she knows. And it's because of this and because of everything Gale's entrusted to her, she decides to share something that's like an explanation. ]
... My own teacher was... Well, he isn't human for one. I spent many years with him so I gradually became accustomed to his way with words. They weren't the most sincere.
I hope that might explain a few things about myself.
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He has no interest in rushing Amelia along, but he is grateful to accept what she offers.]
I believe it does.
['Not human' could mean many things, just as it could back home, but from what little he does know about where she comes from, it still offers a bit of perspective.]
I, on the other hand, rarely say things I don't mean. I can see how that might be a bit much, when you're not used to someone so— genuine.
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She isn't like Gale who has opened up to her in a rather major way. She doesn't trust easily and is guarded when it comes to matters of the heart. To share anything about herself felt pointless, a cry for help when help was long past due. Amelia wants to maintain a veneer of stoicism.
It's served her well in a world of mysterious and finicky beings, self-interested magickind, and ambitious espers. Amelia hadn't expected much to change with a vacation but she's been proven wrong so early on. Through her own actions and interactions, something has slowly been changing within her. It's not immediate but it's there, like a seed sown in her heart the moment she checked in.
Amelia stands ups.]
Either way... I'm glad you trust me. I think you at least deserve a definitive promise on my end though.
[Both of her hands are held out to Gale, offering to help him stand up.]
For instance, I promise that I won't be going around telling anyone about what ails you. Past and present.
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I have no doubt you'll be the soul of discretion. I would hate to cause anyone alarm.
[Once more, he is all warmth, his smile genuine despite the painful display he'd given her only a few short minutes before. Even with the nagging discomfort that he's sure will follow for awhile yet, it is difficult to dwell on the ever-present burden when he still feels so deeply touched by the offer she had made.
Back on his feet in full, his hold on her hands remains, lingering.]
Even if a solution cannot be found... I do want you to know that it means a great deal to me that you offered. I have exhausted my resources in Faerun, trying to find a way to undo what I've done. I accept the consequences of my actions, but that you want to help me— that, I will not forget, regardless of the result.
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She shouldn't be projecting.]
I'll see what I can do. After all that you told me, I have to at least try.
[And lord knows, that Amelia is good at trying and trying, and surviving despite it all.]
sometime late november!!!
Maybe one or two...
IT'S TIME FOR NERD FRIENDS
Today, however, when he heads out into the corridor to peruse, it seems he's not the only one with that in mind. It's Mehrak that catches his attention first— a familiar, perhaps?— but he offers a smile as he proceeds to interject.]
Looking for anything in particular? Perhaps I can be of assistance.
hehehe
Oh--sorry, I hope I'm not in your way. I was just trying to make up my mind, since I don't want to squirrel away too many of these at once.
[Unlike SOME PEOPLE (Alhaitham) who just have SHELVES AND SHELVES OF BOOKS (Alhaitham)]
I was looking for something for leisure--if it's good enough, I thought I'd recommend it to Amelia in the future. [Book club!! He knows she already has a list, but he likes to help.]
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[Dark, spooky ambiance and all. It gives the place character.]
I'm sure you'll find something that suits your needs here. Of course, you know Ms. Steinbeck— I do remember seeing you during book club, but I don't believe we had the chance to speak directly. Your points were quite well-argued. It's Kaveh, isn't it?
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It certainly has its own unique sense of character. That's one of my favorite parts about this place--the extent to which each floor is so different. [That much is wholly true.
He looks briefly surprised that Gale remembers him--it takes a second, but then recognition dawns on his face, and he thumps the books he's holding against his palm.]
Ah, yes! Gale, wasn't it? I remember now--you and Sumina talked about character growth for that second discussion topic, if I recall. [Right, right. It's all coming back to him now.
...
...
Wait, wasn't this also the guy who...] You hated Darcy, didn't you?
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He laughs a touch nervously, at least having the good sense to look a bit sheepish.]
Well, hate might be a strong word. I certainly appreciated his character journey, it's only— nevermind, that's not important.
[Book club is past!]
Yes, you have the right of it— Gale.
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Well, it's very nice to meet you properly. Is your room on this floor, then?
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Indeed! It was admittedly a bit jarring at first, but I found myself quite intrigued by the ambiance. Our spectral neighbors here are quite congenial, as well, though I might not have taken a room here had I known about them ahead of time.
[He should have guessed, though. The place looks haunted.]
I've found all sorts of books here that don't appear in the hotel's library proper, which I find especially interesting.
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The book situation interests him too, and he means to ask, he really does, but--]
Spectral neighbors... do you mean ghosts? [???]
god december has just been unreal, I'm so sorry, time means nothing right now
[This floor hardly feels haunted at all!]
Occasionally startling, perhaps, but friendly enough. Glad to see they haven't lost their love of reading after death, although given the nature of this place, it's hard to say if they were ever truly alive or have simply always been this way.
🎁 December 25th
Dear Gale,
In the spirit of celebrating these winter holidays at the hotel, I hope you enjoy this present. I’ve found this to be a little more low-key than our standard quill, and while it lacks that certain dramatic flair that I suspect wizards might enjoy, it is rather easy to bring around and keep in one’s pouch or pocket.
Best wishes,
SH.
P.S. I will be checking out for a few days to tend to matters at home. If you’ve need of me, please feel free to leave any messages with the front desk.
[ Inside is a fountain pen. ]
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action
This is going to be a very different year.
After dressing in a white sweater and jeans, Amelia makes her way over to Gale's room. One hand has a basket that contains two bottles: one a festive champagne and the other, a fizzy non-alcoholic apple cider. There is something about the latter that makes her think of home and how her students would gift her bottles of cider before winter break. It's something she wants to share with Gale.
(And hidden beneath, a small treat for Tara. Gotta pay her proper respects.)
Knock, knock! It's ya girl]
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He doesn't keep Amelia waiting long; a few moments after she knocks, the door opens to reveal him wearing a warm, inviting smile in addition to a sweater and pair of trousers that are decidedly not robes, but somewhat emulate the style of the outfit she'd helped him put together some days earlier.]
Amelia! Please, please, come in—
[He steps back, gesturing to usher her in. Though she's been there before, the circumstances were quite different.]
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[After nodding her greetings to Tara, she blinks in surprise at Gale's outfit.]
Oh. Getting comfortable with modern fashion, are we?
[He's really taken to this style, hasn't he? Stepping inside, she holds up her basket.]
I didn't come empty-handed. But not just for us... Does Tara like fish or does she have a specific taste in treats?
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I thought I might try something, yes. I don't believe I'll be giving up my robes entirely anytime soon, but these are rather comfortable. I thought to draw inspiration from what you found for me and thought these might be suitable.
["He spent an hour agonizing over what to wear," Tara informs her cheerfully, getting up from her spot in front of the fire to stretch and spread her wings before trotting over and looking up at the visiting witch with fondness. "Good evening, Ms. Steinbeck! It is a pleasure, as always. I, for the record, am very fond of fish. How sweet of you to think of me!"
Gale lets out a good-natured huff as he shakes his head at Tara's interjection, reaching out to gingerly take Amelia's basket from her so that he can set it down somewhere.]
Very kind of you; thank you, on both counts. We'll have plenty to eat to go along with these, as well. It seems only right to ring in the start of a new year with good food, good drink, and good company.
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[Before Gale sets down the basket, Amelia reaches inside to take a glass jar (with a decorative ribbon tied around the lid) filled to the brim with hundreds of tiny silvery fishes, no bigger than half of a finger.]
Dried anchovies. These are for you, Tara.
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"You have my thanks, Ms. Steinbeck! What a generous gift! Mr. Dekarios, if you wouldn't mind assisting...?"
She trails off, but Gale doesn't need her too elaborate, chuckling as he sets the basket on the table and holds a hand out for the jar, happy to assist in gingerly removing the lid and lowering it so that Tara can help herself. She purrs loud enough to be heard from where they stand, and she daintily spears one of the tiny fishes with her claws and proceeds to eat it, closing her eyes.
"Oh, divine! You have exquisite taste, Ms. Steinbeck."
Gale takes Amelia's hand with a look of amusement before leaning in to press a kiss to the side of her mouth, greeting her properly at last.]
I think she'll be quite occupied with those for some time.
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She squeezes Gale's hand as she brushes some of her hair behind her ear.]
We'll leave her be then. I'm glad she approves of her New Year's Eve snack.
So are we in front of the fire or out on your balcony? Either one is fine, but it'd be pleasant to start the countdown in the open air.
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[He's mostly teasing, knowing Amelia was simply being herself in this regard, but there's no denying that Tara acts as though she'd raised him herself, and he knows her to be very invested in his love life, perhaps inappropriately so. Then again, who's to say what's an appropriate level of investment for a tressym?
He squeezes her hand in return, then gently tugs as he starts to take a few steps backwards towards the balcony, encouraging her to come along with him.]
Absolutely the balcony. My favorite place in the entire world— or a replica of it, and I can think of nothing lovelier than starting the new year with you beneath the stars.
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You know, if things had been different, I might have dropped by back home to spend my New Year there instead of here. We've been here for months now and... Well.
I have a better reason to be here than in town.
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[He knows she has at least a few good friends to look in on, students she might like to check in with back home. Amelia is one of those who is fortunate enough to be able to go back without it being potentially catastrophic, and while he would hardly begrudge her a trip home, he's glad she's opted to stay here with him.]
You made it sound as though you had a few traditions you might have liked to revisit there had you gone, but I quite like having you to myself.
[He gives her a particularly cheeky smile as he gestures towards the luxuriously upholstered bench on the balcony, releasing her hand only to take a seat and pat the cushion beside him before extending his hand in offering.]
Terribly selfish of me, I'll admit.
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Depending on the year, I spent the eve either in glamor and finery with a fellow witch, Berna, or at the most crowded and seedy bar imaginable with my other friends, Adam and Michael.
Basically, none of them allowed me to be alone during New Year's Eve.
[Amelia has some really good friends, few that they are.]
So if anything, me indulging you would satisfy their conditions for me.
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They're quite right not to do so— no one should usher in a new year alone. It sounds like at least in that regard, they would approve of all this.
[He is, admittedly, curious to know more about her friends, curious to know what they would think of him and their involvement. He has always cared a little too much about other people's opinions.]
I can easily envision you in finery, but it is difficult to imagine Amelia Steinbeck, witch and educator, in a bar of low repute. You must stick out tremendously.
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[They'd be in awe that she's found a person who showers her with affection from the grandest of gestures to the little touches and kisses like the one on the back of her hand just now. And even more surprising is how she's comfortable with it all.]
And being a redhead will do that. But those kinds of bars are... Colorful. Fun even. It's mostly for people-watching with Adam and Michael. We'll play board games or card games, sometimes other guests will get involved... It makes for good memories.
[She leans her back against the seat with a soft sigh.]
Michael is also a witch. He's older than I am and stressed the importance of how I need to collect as many good memories as possible to make up for the years before and in case the years ahead become difficult.
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[He squeezes her hand gently in agreement, always glad to hear about another piece of her life back home, another one of the many bits that made her who she was.]
I do think your friend has the right idea. Magickind in your world being as long-lived as they are, and with such an important burden to bear on their shoulders... having memories of such moments will bring you light during darker times, remind you that there are things worth fighting for, large and small. Hope is not to be underestimated.
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He and Adam both were pivotal to my life after I finished my training with my teacher. Adam is a normal human; he has no magic and nothing particularly remarkable except for his upstanding character. He's in the know about magickind for various reasons, but he's one of the most trustworthy people I know.
Michael—
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Amelia coughs lightly.]
For full disclosure, Michael was my ex. Ex-boyfriend. [She wrinkles her nose and brow, not really liking how that sounded and unsure of how Gale will take to the term.]
My previous paramour. Someone I used to— Well, I think you get the picture.
[Wow that was weird to lay out during a date, good job Amelia]
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His brow furrows slightly as she cuts herself off and proceeds to fumble through her attempts to finish her statement, but he does rather get the picture before she gets to the end. Even the term "boyfriend" was clear enough given the context, even if it's not a term he's terribly familiar with.
It may not be typical date conversation, but she certainly has his interest.]
You're still friends?
[He sounds genuinely curious, rather than put out, because he's never had the opportunity to experience such a thing. His parting with Mystra had been nothing short of devastating, brought him to his absolute lowest point— though in fairness, one was not typically 'friends' with a goddess to begin with.]
Not that you shouldn't be! [He's quick to follow-up, doing a bit of fumbling of his own.] I've just not seen it done before, at least not firsthand. Of course you would have been with someone before now; you're a very singular woman. I would have been surprised otherwise— but I've spoken of my... romantic past with you when it's been relevant. You should feel comfortable doing the same. Or not!
[He puts a hand up to accompany his sharp correction.]
I would never presume to be owed information regarding the details of— [He cuts himself off, sighing, then gives her a sheepish smile.] Well, I think you get the picture.
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I think I do. Get the picture, that is.
[She scoots closer to Gale so that she can lean against his shoulder; a way for both of them to settle into the closeness of each other.]
Yes, Michael and I are still friends. We both agreed that we were better as such. If anything, I think I could have told you a little earlier but it did slip my mind.
After all, you're very distracting as of late.
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I do try. I'm quite glad to hear I've succeeded.
[She's offered plenty of distraction of her own, whether she intends to or not.]
I'm glad that you've been able to come to an arrangement that works for you, as well. Trustworthy friends are too valuable to let go of, if one can avoid having to do so.
[There is a small twinge of something in his voice, not quite jealousy, but just the tiniest note of uncertainty. The concept may be new to him, but he could never begrudge Amelia for holding onto someone who means something to her. If he'd ever been fortunate enough to part so amicably with someone, he likely would have done the same.]
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[There's someone else she hasn't told Gale about, someone whose significance he already has encountered in the Vale. She opens her mouth about to speak up—
(But then her heart stings when she thinks about their smile, her gut twists with guilt over surrounding herself with Gale's warmth because it's like she's almost, almost able to forget about...)
Amelia swallows and exhales; the shakiness can almost go unnoticed.]
Making friends has never been one of my greatest strengths but the ones I do have... I'm grateful to them for making sure I'm not entirely hopeless. I think they'd all like you, Gale. Berna, especially.
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It sounds to me like you've done quite well for yourself. Quality over quantity; the people you've chosen to surround yourself with sound like precisely the sort of people you need.
[He feels a twinge of something he can't quite name in his own chest when he says that; perhaps he really is being selfish, wanting her to stay here rather than go home to visit. Dwelling on that too long seems dangerous, considering the uncertainty of their future.]
I'll admit... I've always cared a little too much about what other people think of me, so I'm certainly glad to hear you think so, but more than that, they're important to you. While your opinion of me ought to be the only one I lend any weight to, I can't help but hope you're right.
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[And she supposes that Astarion's opinion of her had improved since their first meeting which wasn't a great start.]
We've been here a few months and have met a good number of people. And I want you to know that ending the year and greeting the new one with you wasn't something I imagined.
[Amelia feels her cheeks grow warm.]
So... I'm grateful that you're part of my life now, Gale.
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[Yes, he has discussed her with his
catgood friend Tara, who has quite honestly been thrilled to see him opening his heart to new possibilities. Long overdue, he supposes; he's done more than his share of sulking and nursing a broken heart, and what he feels now, even though their relationship is yet young— it makes what came before pale in comparison, because more than anything, it's real. He feels seen, and the further he gets from his time with Mystra, the more he realizes that he had never been seen as a partner, but a pet to be kept.]I can't say it was something I expected, either— but I have never been so pleasantly surprised.
[He drops his head to press a kiss against her temple, his lips curling into another fond smile. Meanwhile, a Mage Hand delivers a tray with a pair of glasses and Amelia's basket to the table beside their bench, causing him to raise an eyebrow when he notices— he certainly hadn't done that, nor was he responsible for the delivery of the charcuterie tray that followed.
Tara, apparently, was intent on making sure they enjoyed their evening thoroughly. He chuckles softly, closing his eyes and taking a brief moment to bury his face in Amelia's hair.]
To say that I'm grateful to have the chance to be in your life doesn't feel like enough... with you, I forget myself.
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Ah, thank you Mage Hand from Tara. Before Amelia can reach for the bottles and glasses, she stays where she is so Gale can continue to embrace her. Up close, the magic in her hair hums, a faint sensation that he may be able to pick up.
He says that he could forget himself, to be lost in her. Concerningly, she can almost relate.
(But forgetting was hard.)]
Try not to forget yourself before getting a drop of drink, please.
[She says that with playful sternness before reaching up to give Gale a pat on the head.]
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He laughs sharply as she gives him that mock-patronizing pat; it never fails to amuse him when she takes that particular tone with him, especially since he's been on the receiving end of her sternness in earnest in the past.]
That's right, we're meant to be celebrating! It would be an awful shame if I were to get ahead of myself. Embarrassing, really.
[He's able to have a bit of a laugh at his own expense! He hasn't entirely forgotten, and he releases her so that she can reach for the glasses as planned, standing so that he can claim the charcuterie tray that had been so thoughtfully delivered and set it somewhere a bit more convenient for the pair of them.]
Is celebrating the passing of a year common where you're from? Different regions handle it in their own way in Faerun, but along the Sword Coast, it's largely celebrated by feasting and drink— something all of our festivals seem to have in common, I think. People will gladly take any excuse to indulge!
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[Amelia takes the glasses and the bottle of fizzy apple cider from the basket. First cider, then champagne.]
Aside from feasting and drinking, however, many people use the last few days of the old to reflect on what was accomplished or not in the past year. In a way, everyone shares their goals, hopes, and dreams for what they wish to achieve once we shed off the last day.
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That does seem prudent. A way of realigning oneself for the year to come, while perhaps learning a bit from the one we leave behind.
[Ideally. He settles himself beside her again, watching her take up the cider with interest.]
I can hardly say I've had a typical year— neither of us have, in fact, but all the more reason to reflect upon it. I don't feel as though I've quite finished making the necessary steps, but I will say I feel myself to be a very different Gale than I was a year ago. Then, even the idea of venturing outside of my tower was...
[He trails off and shakes his head, a wry smile quirking to one side.]
Truly unthinkable. Little did I know how much awaited me beyond those walls.
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You've had a tumultuous time. [Between the orb, the parasite, going on an adventure to address both... Amelia hands him his glass.]
I'd be surprised if you hadn't changed to some degree based on those circumstances.
As for myself, truthfully, I think I've managed a consistent life routine after becoming a teacher. Save for the supernatural mishap that's bound to happen, I am proud to say that a majority of my students who take my advanced course have been able to pass their major exams. My goal for the next class is to raise their average scores and teach them better studying strategies.
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You have every right to be proud. I only wish that all teachers were as dedicated to their work and the students in their care as you are.
[There are many who are passionate about what they do, who have chosen it for the right reasons, but plenty of others who have become disenchanted with education and do their students a disservice by not offering their best.]
An admirable goal, as well, especially that last bit— I've found that advanced classes often see at least a few gifted or voracious readers who never quite developed those study habit on account of being able to comprehend the material and retain information well after a first pass. Eventually, a time comes where even the most dedicated reader must put in a bit of perspiration.
[It's him, he's gifted and voracious readers.]
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[She's kind of a challenging teacher for a reason. But enough about work, she points to the glass.]
I don't know if you have this in your world, but this is cider without any alcohol. I think you'll like it.
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[That part is new, but he's certainly interested! The scent alone is appealing, and he raises his glass to his lips to sample it, appearing to give it some genuine thought.]
That is nice— I can think of plenty of people who might complain that the lack of alcohol does it a disservice, but I disagree.
[He's a lightweight, anyway. He has a great deal of appreciation for drinks that offer a bit of variety, despite his deep fondness for wine.]
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But that's what the champagne is for. [Points to the other heavier bottle.]
We'll open that at midnight.
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That one, I am familiar with— or so I've recently learned. It would be grouped with other wines back home, but your lot call it by a different name. Either way, I've an appreciation for it, and it does seem perfect for such a celebration.
[He lets out a thoughtful hum as he helps himself to another sip of his cider, his gaze moving to look out across the night skyline of Waterdeep, a glimpse of the home that he'd not properly set foot in for ages now, since before his isolation.]
As we wait for midnight to approach, we're meant to consider what we wish to achieve in the coming year, yes?
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Yes. And about that...
[The glass rests on her lap with her fingers wrapped around it as she turns to face Gale again.]
I wanted to talk about us. About what you would like the year ahead to look like.
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That is a subject I am always amenable to.
[His voice is warm and optimistic; the subject of them as a couple is still new, but one he undeniably enjoys, happy to have been granted the opportunity to become as close to her as he has.]
I do have some thoughts about that, yes. Given that you raised the subject, was there something on your mind you wished to share first?
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It was like an encapsulation of her time with Briar but it came swiftly like a whirlwind of emotion that swept the witch into Gale's gravity.
What if it ends the same way? What if I end up alone again?
She isn't ignoring the major obstacles that could tear them apart. No, it stared at her straight in the face every day, taunting her with another potential heartbreak, another reason to steel her heart against everything good so she could exist for however many centuries she had left.
... But hadn't she just said she would need the memories? Although her love for Briar was like clutching onto a rose with hundreds of thorns, it didn't make her time with him less beautiful.
This thing between them was already such a beautiful bloom.
Amelia takes off her glasses and sets them down on the table before looking resolutely into Gale's eyes.]
For the coming year, I want you to know that... I don't want to be afraid. I won't be afraid of what we have between us.
Remember what I said? About how there's no one else I'd rather struggle with than you?
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How could I forget?
[His voice is low, soft, the subject itself a delicate one. He's never forgotten that scene he'd heard from her past, never forgotten the way it brought her to tears, and he has held each and every part of herself that she has been willing to share close to his heart, each reveal something to be cherished. All that she had shared was a mark of her trust in him, and he does not intend to betray or squander that trust, but hold onto it tightly, for dear life.]
I feel quite the same. I can think of no one I would rather struggle with, and it is my wish to be worthy of that.
[They are both, he knows, all too aware of the challenges that lie ahead, the obstacles they may face, but all of that seems so small when compared to the way he feels when he's with her, the way she makes his heart beat fast when she smiles.]
I hope to show you that you have no reason to be afraid. You have gone far too long without being cherished as you ought. I mean to set that to rights.
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Briar had given her a taste of what it meant to be cherished. Gale was promising and already showing her in every word and action that he would do so with his entire being.
He is a risk worth taking into the next year. She won't be afraid.]
One day, you'll know me more, read a few more chapters of my story. But for now...
[She lifts one of his hands and kisses the inner side of his wrist.]
... I'll focus on the story of us. That's my resolution for the new year.
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[He echoes her with an experimental note in his voice, the corners of his mouth turning upwards into another fond smile when she had pressed her lips to the inside of his wrist, curling his fingers to brush against her cheek, his thumb briefly coming to rest against her her jaw.]
I rather like the sound of that.
[Especially given the important role that stories play in both their lives.]
However long it takes to get to know your full story, Amelia, I am willing to wait— I am grateful that you have entrusted me with several chapters already. I, too, plan to focus on the tale we will write together. I have a very good feeling that it's not going to be the least bit dull.
[He smirks, faintly.]
Is it cheating if my resolution is the same as yours?
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I'll let you get away with it, just this once. Or we'll call it a team effort. How about that?
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[His thumb brushes against the curve of her cheek as he leans in to press a kiss against her forehead to seal their agreement.
Time passes quickly, as he's found it so often does when they're together. They enjoy their cider, sample their food and discuss daily goings-on, chat about the upcoming book club; he shares some of what he's come across in his recent research as he looks into not only magic theory from other worlds, but also uses the hotel's resources to acquire tomes that would have been impossible for him to obtain in Faerun. Nothing to help him meet his immediate goal just yet, but fascinating nonetheless, clearly excited to share such finds with her.
Eventually, with his now-empty glass in hand, he catches a glimpse of the clock sitting on the table just inside the doors leading out to the balcony, and for a moment appears genuinely surprised.]
Almost midnight already— where does the time go?
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Time for this then. Or rather, I'll open it up when it's midnight. How many minutes do we have left?
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[He's teasing, naturally, but sets his glass down on the table so that it can be filled when the time comes.]
So, we toast to the new year at midnight— I may have done a bit of research to prepare myself for this evening and found there's something else traditionally done at midnight, as well.
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[With a raised brow she sits back down and lets the bottle be. She has a pretty good idea of what he's referring to. Stretching her arms out in front of her, she leisurely gives Gale a sideways glance.
It's been another engaging evening with one another and it promises an end to the old and a welcome to the new. They may very well just head to sleep right after.
... Should they?]
And? What were the fruits of your research?
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I read that it's customary to exchange a kiss for good luck in the coming year.
[It seems there are a lot of traditions that include kissing around this time of year, although he certainly can't complain. It's not as though the two of them need an excuse; they do plenty of kissing all on their own without any assistance, but there's still something exciting about having someone to celebrate these things with.]
You know me— I aim to respect and honor other cultures as I have the opportunity to learn of them in this place.
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[Amelia who can't hold back her smile leans forward with her hair draped across her shoulders.]
Far be it from me to dissuade you from partaking in the culture. You've only got less than two minutes after all.
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[He leans forward to meet her, amusement and something akin to mischief alight in his eyes. Even if they're technically supposed to kiss at midnight, it can't hurt to be extra thorough, can it? Ensure they have all angles covered, as it were. Perhaps they'll have even better luck as a result.
He reaches to lightly brush some of her vibrant hair back from her face, his palm coming to rest warmly against her cheek before he tips his head to press his lips against hers, slightly parted and just barely over the line of being chaste, and already he can taste the bright notes of the cider they had been drinking. He feels his pulse quicken; it always does, and he knows full well how easily a kiss can run away with the both of them. Often they are saved by having other places to be or exchanging a kiss goodnight before parting ways, but tonight, there are no such limitations.]
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Her hands move to Gale's shoulders and when his lip part slightly, she takes that as an invitation to taste him back, but softly and playfully. Eyes closed, she moves closer, body pressed against him and arms fully wrapping him in an embrace.
Looking back on this, Amelia will remember the taste of apples between their lips. She'll remember that the clock struck midnight but she neither notices nor cares, focusing instead on building up the warmth growing between them. She manages to not deepen the kiss (surely, they won't get too carried away) and keeps it on a level of frustrating gentleness.
When she finally pulls away, the witch murmurs:]
Happy New Year, Gale.
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Happy New Year, Amelia.
[He almost leans in to steal a second kiss, but is startled into turning his attention elsewhere when there's a loud whistling followed by an explosive bang somewhere behind him. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, just in time to see the sparks of fireworks beginning to dissipate before another shoots upwards from somewhere below the balcony, and he laughs softly to himself, shaking his head.]
I thought I'd told Tara I decided against those. I was worried it might be too much. [He, himself, is often too much.] Apparently, she had her own ideas.
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[Also startled, her head whips around to watch as the fireworks are set off. The colorful lights reflect in her eyes, highlighting the wonder within.]
I guess she wanted a riveting start to the year... Good on her.
[Internally, she's feeling giddy from the kiss and had hoped Gale would steal a second one... But how about a drink first? Amelia takes the champagne bottle and uses magic to easily take off the cork. With a small pop she raises the bottle at Gale and pours the champagne into their glasses.]
I'm not leaving yet, so let's have our first drink of the year. Cheers.
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She certainly gave us quite a show— I'll have to thank her. She seems quite invested in ensuring we have a memorable evening.
[It would have been memorable regardless, he feels, but the fireworks certainly don't hurt. He watches with both interest and amusement as Amelia uncorks the bottles and fills their glasses, his heart light as he takes up his own and offers her to it in toast.]
Cheers— to the year ahead.
[He smiles warmly and takes a sip, and averts his gaze for but a moment as he searches for the words that he'd been considering all night— since long before her arrival, in fact. He exhales steadily, clearing his throat softly as he turns his gaze back towards her, somber despite the smile that remains on his lips.]
As for that bit about you not leaving... I wanted to ask you about that, in fact. I was wondering if you... might like to stay the night? [There's a note of uncertainty in his voice, as though he's not sure how such a question will be received, but he's quick to follow up before she gets the wrong idea. Well, perhaps not the wrong idea, but such an idea would only be one of several options.] Nothing need happen that you aren't ready for, I only— don't wish to start the new year by having to say goodnight to you.
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[Amelia had been taking a generous sip from her glass as Gale presented his question. Her expression is neutral as she registers the somber look in his gaze that contrasts with the smile he gives her.
. . .
It should be troubling, perhaps, how she doesn't answer right away and how it's hard to tell at that moment what thoughts are running through her head. Her answer comes in the form of moving closer to Gale again so that they're shoulder to shoulder.]
We'll have to say it eventually.
[She says it so plainly that it would be easy to take the words at face value. But if Gale is truly smart, he'll recall that she said something similar during their evening at the ball when everything was laid bare.
Cheeky. Or perhaps, pert.]
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He lowers his glass after helping himself to a generous sip of his own, turning away from the ongoing fireworks to lean in and press another soft kiss against her lips, this one accompanied by the bright taste and scent of champagne, cupping the side of her face with his hand as though it were second nature by now. It may as well have been.]
Perhaps, but I would much rather say good morning.
[A far more confident response than he'd been able to offer her that first night. It has been mere weeks, but he knows full well now where he stands with her.]
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Her free hand reaches up to trace Gale's chin with her fingers and she draws back slightly. Right now, there are no burdens of the past on her mind and no fear of the uncertain future. And it's not even the Emerald Witch who gazes fondly into the eyes belonging to Gale of Waterdeep.
No, she's just Amelia and he's just Gale.]
I'll stay tonight, Gale. As for what happens...
[Well, just let her have another sip of champagne, set the glass aside, and focus completely on giving Gale another kiss, this time with an invitation with parted lips and champagne fresh on her tongue, as if to tell him, drink.]
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He feels his breath catch as he parts his own lips and tastes her with the tip of his tongue; he's unsure of when the fingers of his free hand had found their way into her hair, but they are tangled there now as he pours himself into that kiss, intent on letting her know precisely how much he burns for her, body and mind.
I'm in love with you.
He feels it with every fiber of his being, but even with all that's been said and done up until now, he fears it might be too much— but if he cannot tell her just yet, he will do all he can to show her, and he makes a soft, muted noise against her lips as his hand falls away from her face and comes to the small of her back, fingers curling into her sweater so that he can pull her closer.]
Thank you.
[He all but whispers it against the curve of her lips.]
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Gale was so, so, good but life was equally unkind to him. He had been abandoned by his goddess and had few true friends like her and yet he wanted to give and give.
He made her feel in ways that weren't possible. He made her want to give back and to show him that he was someone wonderful outside of his title and magic.
When he pulls away from their eager kiss and draws her closer with his hand on her back, Amelia shivers, gathering her thoughts. What to do next? Will it come back to her naturally? Would he...? She glances down, almost shy.]
We're... Not going to sleep out here on the balcony, right? It'd be a shame... [And here, her cheeks start to burn even if her voice is measured.]
I wouldn't want it to be cold again.
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That would be a terrible shame, wouldn't it? Of course not— I have a much better idea.
[The remaining food, the glasses, all of that can wait until the morning to be tidied up, assuming Tara doesn't get to it before him regardless— but it's clear that she has left them to have their privacy as the fireworks have slowed to a stop, and barring any dire circumstances, they'll not have to worry about interruption.
It would be a simple enough matter to teleport them to their ultimate destination, but doing so in this particular moment lacks the proper poetry, and instead, he tips her chin up with his index finger to steal another kiss before he proceeds to lift her upwards, sweeping an arm beneath her legs with the other around her shoulders so that he can hold her close to his chest as he starts towards the double doors that lead back to his sitting room.]
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[Well, she certainly didn't expect Gale to carry her. As she holds onto Gale, she can't help but let out a laugh of disbelief.]
I see I'm getting the full treatment tonight.
[And teasingly she adds (by whispering into his ear mind you):]
You've been having ideas for a long while now, haven't you?
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Would it be ungentlemanly of me to say 'yes?'
[There's a mischievous glint in his eyes before he drops his chin to let his lips and the tip of his nose lightly brush against her forehead, barely enough to count as a kiss, though he plans to make up for that soon.
They pass through the sitting room without stopping, and through another door that had been left ajar to a bedroom that is undeniably Gale from floor to ceiling, from walls painted and charmed to mimic the night sky to the overstuffed bookshelves full to bursting with the volumes and trinkets he's collected during his months here.]
I can be called many things, but never coy, and I am certainly not a priest.
[He is, for better or for worse, incredibly human, with all of the wants and needs that implies. He hadn't allowed himself to count the number of times he'd been distracted by thoughts of her; if he had, he's sure the number would have been thoroughly embarrassing.
He carefully sets her on the end of the bed and joins her there in one fluid movement, planting a hand against the mattress and his knee coming to rest beside her thigh as he drops his head to steal another kiss, warm and lingering.]
If— [He speaks against the curve of her lips now; it would be quite easy to lose himself far too quickly, but he doesn't want to rush a single moment of this, nor does he want to be overbearing.] —you should change your mind, you need only say, but I will swear to you what I have sworn once before regardless: I am yours, Amelia.
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The rest of the night was theirs. Her whole being is alight at the anticipation of what it will bring. Amelia tries to be patient like Gale and tries not to rush as she responds to his pledge with another kiss; this one is languid yet wanting as she tastes him in a way that implores him to taste her back.
Steadily, slowly, the candle begins to burn brighter.
Amelia pauses to breathe and one of her hands moves to the collar of Gale's sweater.]
I... [Her other hand starts to thread through his hair, gripping it softly.]
... Don't want you to stop.
[In the next second, if he glances down, he'll find that she's relieved herself of her jeans; her feet and legs are completely bare though her upper half remains covered. Her cheeks continue to burn red but Amelia doesn't look away from his face.]
You need to show me what you've been thinking about, Gale.
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She doesn't want him to stop, and it only takes a single glance downward to see just how readily she's committed to moving forward, made herself vulnerable. He exhales, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth, the bridge of her nose, swallowing hard and taking a moment to remind himself how to breathe.]
Of course— as you wish, my heart.
[He pulls back, one knee still pressed against the mattress as he proceeds to tug his sweater off over his head, but aside from the brief moment where they're covered, he never lets his eyes leave her, watching her intently as he tosses the sweater aside to be dealt with later on. He makes short work of the button-down he'd been wearing beneath it, his heated gaze remaining fixed on her as he does so, taking in the color in her cheeks, the soft curve of her lips, and once he's free from the waist up, he joins her once more, a hand against her hip so that he can gently ease her back towards the pillows.
The orb's markings are fully on display now, but any self-consciousness he may have had about them is forgotten. He kneels before her with his legs spread, taking her face in his other hand so that his lips can crash against hers, hungrier now as he's let some of that patience and restraint slip, his fingers warm against her skin as he lets them sneak beneath the hem of her sweater.]
You are truly breathtaking.
[He murmurs against her lips between kisses, chasing after each one for more like a man dying of thirst, as though they are his very lifeblood.]
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Those thoughts are drowned by his demanding and hungry kiss and she returns it in kind so he understands that the desire and need are not one-sided. She would never want to do this half-heartedly, especially with Gale who promised her his whole being. She moans into his lips and the ever-increasing heat around her body and between her legs makes the fabric of her sweater unbearable especially when his fingers find their way beneath it.]
Gale...
[Amelia says his name with reverence and her green eyes burn into him. She frees up her hands so that she can slip her arms out of her sweater and swiftly pull it over her head. Though her bra and underwear are all that's left, the need to feel his skin against hers has amplified as she cups his face in her hands and takes several breaths to collect herself, and then starts kissing her way up starting with his collarbone, then his shoulders, and then the side of his jaw, mixing little nips of teeth and tongue.
Even without words, she can tell him how much she wants him and how electrifying being with him is by the warmth emanating from her skin. But Amelia tries to return his words, the longing— ]
I want—
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The markings left behind by the orb have begun to glow faintly, the magic in him reacting to hers, rising to greet it, and even as she tries to find words, he encircles an arm around her waist and bears her back against the pillows, following her down so that he can pull her flush against him. He has a very, very clear idea of how he'd like to proceed, and he claims her lips with another deep and needful kiss before he begins to steadily work his way along her jaw, kissing along the curve of her neck and offering his own playful nips as he goes. One hand slides over the slope and curve of her breast before circling around to work at the clasp of her bra— an unfamiliar modernization of what he's used to, but he determines it's intuitive enough.]
Relax. [The word comes soft against the hollow of her throat between kisses, almost purred, his head bent.] Allow me to take care of you tonight. I'll see that you have everything you want and more.
[His trousers feel almost unbearably hot in that moment, as well, but rather than hurry to shed them, he focuses his attention on her, intent and eager to please, and when the clasp finally comes loose in his hand, he blindly guides one of the straps over her shoulder, following its path by kissing his way along the length of her collarbone and then downwards, slowing just enough to make each kiss deliberate, lingering.]
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There are so many ways to go about this but she isn't exactly thinking with clarity. All she knows is that she needs Gale and his touch over her and inside her. Mouth, tongue, hands, anything that could send her over with shockwaves.
Somehow she manages to speak up as her hands sneak back into his hair.]
Are you... [She holds back a pleased hum.] Trying my patience, Gale?
[Because it's working as her legs start to move apart expectantly.]
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Perhaps I am, but not for long.
[He kisses his way down her stomach, his hands firm as they move along her curves with purpose, down over her hips before hooking his fingers into her undergarments and pulling them smoothly downwards, sitting up on his knees just long enough to remove them with some limited assistance. He takes that moment to truly appreciate her, look her over with a heated gaze that speaks not only of lust but utter adoration, and his gaze meets hers for a moment that leaves him nearly breathless before he tosses that last scrap of clothing aside.
He lowers himself between her spread legs with no remaining barrier between them, one hand coming to grip her thigh as he guides it over her shoulder and drops down to trace the line of her lower lips with his tongue, bottom to top, deliberate and almost painfully slow before he parts them and kisses here there, too, eager to lose himself as he tastes her in earnest, desire coiling hotly in his own stomach.]
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She squirms and struggles to hold back her sounds as he gives her breast attention with his tongue. Her undergarments are removed with deft hands and finally, she's completely bare and vulnerable under his gaze. And when Gale lowers himself between her legs, breath hot as he guides her leg...
Oh.
A sweet and delighted cry escapes her mouth as Gale's tongue teases her folds and enflames her even further and fiercely within. Fingers tightly grip the sheets as he relishes it with even more attention.
Not fair. She's going to lose herself too soon from the sheer thrill of how he wants to pleasure her with his mouth without her having to ask. It was her choice to let down her guard but it's at this moment she realizes how many she had up. But she can't pull away. She needs more of him more of his tongue inside of her. Amelia brings a hand to her mouth to bite her knuckles and tone down her voice; regardless, the plea behind it cannot be concealed much as she tries.]
G-Gale... More. Please don't stop—
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She'd asked him not to stop, and he has no intention of doing so.
His fingers dig into her thigh just a bit more as he anchors himself, not enough to cause pain, and he gently circles the spot he knows will bring her the most pleasure with his tongue, careful and attentive, focusing his efforts there in hopes of getting another delightful squirm out of her before he dips lower and tastes her more deeply than before. Unwilling to leave her unattended, he lets his thumb take over while his lips and tongue are otherwise occupied, each kiss and stroke of his tongue as gentle as it is adoring, his thumb tightly circling and nudging that bud of pleasure as he keeps himself attentive and attuned to her responses— what she likes, what makes her go tense, what draws those sweet sounds of pleasure from her, what causes a tug of the sheets. They both still have a great deal to learn about one another, and this seems an excellent place to start.]
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The normally composed and severe witch now lies on her back, body flushed and eyes incensed. She writhes at Gale's ministrations, her breathing hot and rhythmic, interrupted just as suddenly as his thumb works in tandem with his tongue to make her feel incredibly sublime. There's an attempt to be stubborn and silence her voice but to no avail as she gasps feverishly through each stroke. Each lap of tongue makes her delirious, and each motion of his thumb threatens to make her clamp his head between her thighs and propel him further.
Her hold on the sheets loosens and tightens before she arches her back slightly, just enough to sit up and cradle his head between her hands, fingers gripping his hair with need. When Amelia speaks up, she barely recognizes her own raw and frantic voice.]
Good— Gale, it feels so good, I'm—!
[She could drown at this moment, balance on this tightrope of exquisite torment or give in and fall off the quickly approaching edge. His careful work and attention to her center of pleasure are making her wet and it makes her lose her articulation.]
I'm... I...
[She's so close to release and he can feel it in the grind of her hips against his tongue and the dewiness of her center as she chases it desperately. No other thoughts, just her, Gale, and this impossible pleasure he's ravishing upon her.]
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Even if she hadn't given voice to her unraveling, he would have known she was dangerously close— the shudder of her thighs as she struggles not to trap him between them, the uneven hitch of her breath, her grip on his hair that only serves to further stoke his own arousal. He looks up at her from beneath long lashes for but a moment, her voice having gained an edge that stirs something primal deep within him, and he only gives her a brief moment of reprieve as he allows himself a breath, his beard scraping against the inside of her thigh as he shifts his angle, the muscles in his back pulling taut beneath her gaze as he disappears between her legs once more.]
Let yourself go, my love.
[His voice is low, raw and husky with his own desire, and he feels drunk on the scent of her as he closes his lips around her clit, once again lavishing attention on her with his tongue, its strokes tender but no less persistent in the wake of his thumb, releasing her thigh and letting it rest over his shoulder as he reaches to lay his hand against her stomach. Gently, he presses two of those dexterous fingers inside of her and curls them forward as if to beckon her, stroking her from within while he continues to push her higher with lips and tongue alike, breath hot and labored against sensitive skin, intent on bringing her over that edge and watching her come apart, his efforts as intense as they are meticulously controlled, unwilling to lose himself until he's given her what he feels is her due.]
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Amelia doesn't know if it's his words (and for a split second her heart feels a sting, quickly smothered by her haze of lust) or the obscene way he consumes her and slips his fingers inside to rub her, but it all leads to the same end. She completely shatters.
She's deaf to her own cries as she arches her back and comes. Her body quivers and shakes, awash with pleasure, and the pads of her fingers grasp his hair tightly before letting go and raising them so that her arms cover her eyes.]
Oh—
[She whimpers in blissful awe. Even with her eyes closed she sees sparkling lights akin to the fireworks that were set off not too long ago. To say that she's bewildered, stunned, or irrevocably elated wouldn't be able to measure up to the aftermath of how Gale made her feel.]
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Careful not to overwhelm her, he shifts forward so that he can join her once more and puts an arm around her waist to gather her against his chest, carding fingers through her vibrant red hair and pressing a soft kiss against her forehead before dropping one on either cheek, then finally reaching her lips, catching them with his own. Seeing her like this, hearing her come undone as a result of his attentions, all of it has his pulse reaching a fever pitch, his blood thundering in his ears, and he exhales happily against the curve of her mouth, eyes closed.]
You should hear yourself.
[Some might feel self-conscious after hearing such a statement, but the low rasp of his voice makes it very, very clear that he quite likes what he hears.]
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With some great effort, she manages to reply, still sensitive to every touch and his skin against hers.]
I... Was I loud?
[A redundant question and maybe kind of adorable of her to ask. Amelia's hands move up to Gale's shoulders.]
That was... You're...
[You're so wonderful. Even in the aftermath of the shockwaves that slammed into her in a flash, she's already glancing downward and says:]
Gale. [Her kisses take a turn and he'll feel his lower lip being nipped at.]
Aren't you...?
[Her fingers are sliding down his torso and towards his hips. She inhales before continuing, a gentle longing in her voice.]
Do you want more of me?
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You sounded beautiful.
[That doesn't exactly answer her question, but a shudder rolls through him as she nips at his lower lip, another soft groan escaping him; he swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing visibly as he insistently kisses her back, still heated, still hungry, a very distinct wanting still very much present behind all that tenderness.
Her fingers begin to trail downwards and the mark on his chest pulses just a bit brighter, and that note of longing in her voice reaches somewhere deep inside of him and further stokes the already burning embers of desire. He feels his heart jump into his throat for a moment as her fingers find his hips, and he answers that question with another heated kiss, catching her lower lip between his teeth before he starts kissing his way along the angle of her jaw and back towards her ears.]
Of course I do—
[His words are murmured against the shell of her ear now; he inhales the scent of her hair before dropping his chin to kiss and nip at the delicate skin of her neck. His lips are feverish against her, and he can feel that careful control of his threatening to fray— he is, admittedly, well out of practice, and does not quite have the mastery over himself he might have in the past.]
I want as much of you as I can possibly get.
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You did—
[Her fingers move to the front of his trousers and maneuver the button and zipper open, her eyes never leaving Gale.]
—Very well. [And this is where her voice drops into her own low and sensual tone as she moves her bare hips against his to tease.]
But don't hold back on my account.
[Amelia wants to feel him and see him lose control and release that reckless abandon in her. She gave him her sweet sounds and gave in to him. He deserves his due now and so she whispers in a tantalizing tone.]
It's time to let yourself go, isn't it?
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I only wanted to ensure you were well taken care of, but it is as you say—
[He inhales sharply as he seals his mouth over hers for another heated, ravenous kiss, this one even less restrained than the last, and his hands roam over her hips and up her sides, over her shoulders and down her back until he can cup her rear, only for a brief moment before he playfully topples her back to the bed, a mischievous smile curling his lips as he takes the opportunity to stand. She's made an excellent start, but if they're going to explore one another and entangle as fully as he'd like, he's still wearing a little too much clothing.]
The time for restraint has passed.
[He does away with his trousers and the briefs beneath, both having been pulled uncomfortably tight, and they end up in the same heap as the rest of their discarded clothing to be dealt with decidedly later, revealing himself to be hard and as wanting as to be expected. There's not a trace of the shyness he would otherwise show at baring even the most benign part of himself; he is well past the point of shyness with her, and he wastes no time in joining her on the bed once more, eager to become a tangle of limbs, to touch her and learn every dip and curve, his hands sliding over her hips the moment they're in reach, his lips catching hers as he finds himself utterly unable to stay away.
She'd longingly asked him if he'd wanted more of her, and the answer to that is one worth repeating; he exhales his words against the curve of her lips between eager kisses, his length pressing against her leg as he pulls her flush against him, sliding an arm around her waist.]
I want you— all of you.
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Amelia presses her lips against his, a little slower and unhurried, but no less deep and passionate for him. Hands travel down his shoulder blades and then his neck before caressing his face.
Catching a breath, she smiles radiantly at Gale, a rarity from her that she doesn't even realize it.]
If that's what you want...
[One leg moves to hook behind his knees, to spurn him forward. She braces herself and kisses his chin.]
I'm all yours.
[More than a promise, it's a guarantee. She burns so brightly for him in that moment that she could go blind and would think nothing of it as long as she kept the memories of how he made her feel forever.]
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He takes in a sharp breath as she hooks a leg around his waist, his gaze dark and heavy with lust, then exhales as he leans forward to press his forehead against hers, tangling his fingers in her hair as he cups the side of her face, one hand gliding over her hip and along her raised thigh before he shifts, guiding himself to her entrance and finally accepting the invitation she had offered him. He's slow to start, careful, not wanting to rush, but a low groan escapes him as he sinks into her inch by blissful inch, going still for a moment when he bottoms out, eyelids lowering once more.]
Amelia.
[It would be so, so easy to lose himself in the heat of her embrace, and he has no doubt he will, but for now, he catches her beneath her thigh to keep it draped over his hip and behind his back, then steadily rolls his hips to see just how they fit together, and it feels delicious and right. He had almost forgotten just how much mortal lovemaking had to offer, and he is glad they had chosen to do things this way, despite the alternatives he might have offered.
Slowly, he begins to start a rhythm, steady and deliberate as he thrusts into silken heat, his brow still pressed against hers, his fingers curling to tighten their grip in her hair, his breath shallow now that he's let his control begin to fray more quickly, falling away as he finds himself once more, for the first time in ages.]
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The initial discomfort is forgotten and the burn and heat of it all envelops her completely. Her hips thrust back, adjusting to Gale's rhythm and she murmurs various encouragements to him.
Don't stop. Keep going. More.
This was all so dreamlike but his affection and need for her is so real. In everything he does, it makes Amelia believe in something new and something apart from the person she had been decades ago. And she wants Gale, Gale who also suffered so much, but believed in her, to feel the distance from that pain.
Her lips start to kiss up his shoulder again as he moves with some added scrapes of her teeth to encourage him even more.]
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He makes murmurings of his own, sweat beading against his forehead, his hand at her thigh sliding back to her hip to steady himself, deft fingers digging in as he bends his head and whispers sweet nothings between each heated thrusts, softly gasping how beautiful she was, how much he'd longed for this, and his lips steadily working along her neck, the hand in her hair dropping to palm at her breast and tease at its peak, his touch firm but gentle even now.]
I've dreamed of this, my heart.
[The admission is strained, one of many half-whispered adulations, and he carefully catches her earlobe between his teeth, giving it a playful nip.]
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The sharper thrust elicits a cry of sweet shock from her and she clings to him even tighter, fingers digging into his back, and clenching him even tighter. Gale's wandering hand over her chest and the nip at her earlobe make Amelia yelp and jut her hips back into him. His adulations, their mingled breaths, the continuous collision of their bodies— she's drowning in sensation and manages to gasp out a request.]
P-Please k-Keep going and... [Both of her legs now, wrap around his back insistently urging him to do more if possible.]
Hard... Harder.
[Someone likes it rough.]
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He feels another surge of heat push through him, urging him onward, and there's something that flares to life in his gaze as he lifts his head to claim her mouth with his own once more, his kiss searing as he does precisely as asked. If he'd still been holding something back, he certainly wasn't now; the steady roll of his hips has become a sharp snap forward instead, his rhythm now growing erratic as his breath comes short. He lets out a low groan follows by his own sharp cry against her lips, too lost in sensation and their shared heat to articulate more than that— truly, she must be a powerful witch to be able to render him speechless.
His pace is nearing furious now, each snap forward pushing hard and deep, careful control having frayed completely, though he still gathers himself well enough to slide a hand between the press of their bodies, pressing two fingers against her clit and working it to push her higher yet, even as he continues to lose himself in her.
He has enough presence of mind to realize that he's unlikely to last much longer, especially given just how long its been since he's known another human so intimately. His head drops back for a moment, baring his throat before he bends forward and buries his face in the crook of her neck, managing to string words together between more rushed, feverish kisses.]
I— I'm nearly—
[It's all he can manage. She can probably put the pieces together herself.]
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(It's temporary, it's a distraction, she wants to add more distance to it all...)
His fingers pressing her clit insistently makes her cry out in shock, not expecting to be unraveled again. She feels overly stimulated, electricity running up her spine while her skin is on fire as the friction reaches an all-time high. The words he manages to deliver are not lost on her because she too is of the same mind, if there's any of it left that isn't lost to their frenzied desire. ]
I— You— You can—
[Whoever plunges first, the other is sure to follow. All she can do is bury her face in his shoulder before she kisses the base of his throat with the utmost gentleness and softness compared to everything else that's currently entangled.]
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The relentless pace he'd set is forced to slow, each buck growing weaker following his release, but even as his vision blurs with that dizzying feeling of head, overwhelming pleasure, he summons up the strength to continue, working his fingers to push and pinch and strive to make her come undone a second time beneath in, his breath now coming heavily just beneath her ear, his brow pressed firmly against her temple.]
Come for me—
[It's a low and breathless demand, rather than a request, but he has never been one to leave a task unfinished, and certainly not one as delightful as this.]
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The thread snaps. With her hips bucking desperately against him and his fingers, stars burst behind her eyelids as she inhales raggedly and cries out sweetly once again as a tidal wave of absolute ecstasy crashes and overtakes her entire being.
Unbelievable. Incredible.
For a moment she breathes heavily before releasing her legs from him but not completely withdrawing, legs intertwined with his. Her chest heaves up and down as she weakly covers her eyes with her arms to bask in the lingering. It had been so long that if her words returned to her properly, she would be lost in the afterglow of such a vigorous session.
Pursing her lips she lifts one hand up to blindly search for Gale's face and when she does, her fingers trace the contour of his lips and just hover there, a wordless gesture of contentment.]
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His own breath is still heavy, ragged, and for a few moments he drops his head to rest lightly above her heart as he remembers how to breathe properly. It's only once he's done so that he carefully withdraws from her, softening, their limbs still entangled as puts his arms around her middle and settles against the mattress beside her, feeling his heartrate slow as he remains pulled close, dropping soft, tender kisses against her shoulder. He gives a breathless laugh as he takes her in, sees the way she's covered her eyes in the aftermath, and smiles against the brush of her fingers as she traces his lips, puckering them to press against her fingertips.
Contentment. It hardly seems a strong enough word, and yet in this moment he can think of nothing else beyond this room, beyond the pair of them. Their respective troubles are quite literally worlds away— there is nothing to keep this perfect moment from being entirely theirs.
He is the first to break the silence, dropping his chin to gently nuzzle his nose and lips against her shoulder, gathering her against his chest as he playfully hooks his own foot around her ankle.]
That was well worth the wait.
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[It sounds like a grumble but it's less displeased and more tired. So, maybe not a perfect moment, but it's a very her response even in this kind of aftermath. The kisses on her shoulder make Amelia curl into Gale and as he takes her into his gentler embrace, she drops her arms and crosses them across her waist.]
I'm exhausted.
[That's a telling assessment if nothing else.]
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Is that so? Well. [He tuts, teasingly.] We are up rather late.
[Rather than disrupt their current arrangement, he raises a hand just enough to wave and it and bid the bed to conform to their needs, instead; the two of them are now nestled comfortably beneath the soft, richly plum-colored duvet. No need to risk getting cold.]
There— much better.
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[She's the most wry. Now that they're comfortably covered, Amelia turns around so that she's facing Gale directly. Contrary to her brusque remarks, her eyes are soft when looking into his.]
... Thank you for waiting. For me, that is.
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You are more than worth waiting for.
[He would have waited forever, if she'd needed it, though saying so aloud might be a bit much for her.]
Thank you for trusting me. [With this. With her story. With her heart.] I'll ensure that trust is not misplaced.
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[The tenderness contrasts the minutes beforehand; it's befuddling especially after being so long without, but she isn't going to shy away from the comfort his touch gives her. Her fingers reach up in turn, tracing the outline of his beard.]
Get some sleep, alright?
[After a second, she adds in a hushed voice.]
I'm not going anywhere.
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I should hope not, otherwise my hopes of starting the new year by waking beside you would be dashed.
[There's a mirthful upturn at one corner of his mouth, and he tips his chin upwards just enough to press a kiss against her forehead, followed by the corner of her mouth.]
May you have the sweetest of dreams. I will be here when you wake.
[Sleep, he thinks, will come easily tonight— for the first time in a long, long while.]
@recluserose | action
Morning comes, as it always does, sunlight filtering in through the tall, open windows that look out over that conjured replica of Waterdeep, the curtains stirring thanks to the gentle breeze blowing in off the harbor. He rubs at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand as they slowly creak open, then stifles a yawn as he turns his head towards the window— judging by the angle of the light, which he has of course ensured is accurate despite the fact that the scenery outside is nothing more than an illusion, it's a bit later in the morning than he would normally rise, though given their late night and the occasion, he supposes that shouldn't come as much of a surprise.
He smiles as bits and pieces of the previous evening return to him unbidden, and despite the rather significant step they had taken, it's the kisses and resolutions they'd shared on the balcony and those blissful, almost pleasantly numb moments before sleep that immediately come to mind. He shifts carefully, moving onto his side to face the woman in bed beside him, one arm still curled beneath her waist. It seems a terrible shame to disturb her while she sleeps, and so he remains uncharacteristically silent, though he cannot help but to reach out and lightly trace the curve of her shoulder with his finger, trailing down the length of her arm.]
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She dreamed of walking through a garden of roses. They were all turned towards the girl, vivid and scarlet as if they were looking at her. Above, the sky was impossibly blue and the rays of the sun made the blooms glow like red jewels floating on a sea of green leaves. There was no end in sight.
The leaves rustled beneath her bare feet. An invisible breeze passed by and through her hair and a storm of petals flew past. She squinted and covered her eyes with one arm. When they were all gone and the girl uncovered her eyes, she saw him, squatting down, stroking one of the roses. His spring yellow-green hair cascaded over his shoulders and down his back.
She walked up to him, her heart racing.
He looked up to see who was walking towards him and smiled.
They talked. She didn't remember what about exactly. At some point, another breeze passed through. It smelled of the salt and the sea. He looked towards the horizon and when he spoke again, she finally heard his voice.
"I think it's the ocean."
He smiled at her encouragingly and gently asked if she was going there next. Her heart seized. But somehow she nods. She resumed walking towards the sea. Before she went any further she turned to ask if he could come with her.
But when she turned around he was gone.]
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Gale.
It's warm and she faintly realizes that his other arm is around her waist. She doesn't say anything at first; she just watches him even though he's much more awake than her. But before he can even speak up, she reaches up to... Well.
She's kind of pinching (softly, to be fair) a little bit of his beard.]
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For ages, he had been near desperate to serve, willing to offer up everything he had for whatever his goddess might offer him, but all of that paled in comparison to what he had before him now. It was, perhaps, still new, and not without its challenges— but it was undeniably real, and he already felt far more seen after a few short months with Amelia than he ever had as Mystra's Chosen.
His smile blooms further, and he's just about to lean in to greet her with a kiss when she starts pinching his beard.
There's a long, puzzled moment of silence before he laughs, crinkling at the eyes as he so often does.]
Good morning to you, too.
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[Amelia's thoughts are much more challenging to parse, especially after waking up. Contrary to popular expectations, she is not a morning person, as shown by the library experience.
She fiddles with his beard for a couple of more seconds before letting go to rub one eye.]
Morning.
[Her eyes close again. It's just... Very comfortable. She had slept well and wanted to stay in one place for a few more minutes. The moment is tender and while she is genuinely still swayed by sleep, the other part of her is concerned she doesn't have the demeanor that could express the same warmth Gale is giving to her. His laugh makes her heart beat and the sight of his upturned smile causes her face to flush.
She's happy. She'll allow herself to admit that much internally.]
I don't want to move. Do you?
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[He all but exhales the words, his eyelids lowering. He's never quite cared for early mornings, himself, though he'd had to become used to them while traveling— his academy days had always demanded they be a necessary evil, as well, but given that he was the sort to lose track of time and work through much of the night, he much preferred a leisurely pace when it came to mornings overall.]
Fortunately, I've nowhere to be. [The beauty of vacation.] The bath, eventually. The kitchen, certainly, but I can't say I feel all that inclined to rush.
[He's quite comfortable where he is, sprawled beneath the covers with her, and the view is lovely beyond compare— when his eyelids aren't feeling quite so heavy.]
Nothing to keep us from staying exactly where we are as long as we like.
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[She murmurs as she pulls the blanket up so that half of her face is covered.]
Specifically a shower.
[Good thing they don't have any plans with anyone else today, she supposes.]
Do you need help in the kitchen?
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You are more than welcome to help yourself to the shower, though I must insist on you letting me handle breakfast.
[There's a mirthful note in his voice; he quite enjoys having the opportunity to cook for others, and being able to do so for her in this specific situation is something he's been especially looking forward to.]
I'd like to spoil you a bit, if I may. You needn't lift a finger.
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Careful. You're going to make me too accustomed to all this.
[Insidious Gale of Waterdeep! With that said, she pats him on his shoulder as if to dismiss him.]
I'll shower, you handle breakfast. No peeking at each other while we get out of bed.
[Is she joking? Hmmmmm.]
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[He chases her lips to insidiously steal another brief, affectionate kiss before she pats him on the shoulder and begins to pull away. As she continues, he gasps as he braces a hand against the mattress in preparation to prop himself up, feigning shock.]
No peeking? That seems a terrible shame. Still, perhaps for the best... I'm quite sensitive, really.
[The lamentation in his voice is a bit too overdone to be genuine, even if that last bit is technically true. He is well past physical insecurities coming between them, at this point.]
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If you wanted to look, you could just ask.
[Feeling kind of cheeky, this one. She does have to stretch out her arms and summon the will to stand up considering last night's strenuous activities; after having been so long without, she's not accustomed to the morning afters.]
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I just didn't know we were suddenly being shy, but I do think I got quite a good look last night.
[He's more than happy to be cheeky right back, and he, too, runs a hand through his hair to keep it from being too unkempt— helped along by a handy charm that sets it to rights as he cards his fingers through it, his smile quirking to one side.]
A sight I'll not soon forget, I have to say. If you're worried about my catching a glimpse in the daylight, you could stay right where you are until breakfast is finished. The shower certainly won't be going anywhere.
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Not that I'm complaining, but you sure are set on keeping me here all day, aren't you?
[It's a good suggestion though. She doesn't have to leave bed and she gets breakfast.]
Alright. I'll wait for you then and get a few more minutes of shuteye.
[She'll find her sweater at least, she's not gonna eat breakfast in bed naked, she's civilized.]
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[The covers rustle a bit as he turns and lets his feet hit the floor; he gives a stretch of his own, though his back does give a very sound pop as he does so, causing him to let out an entirely different kind of laugh, bordering on sheepish.]
Ah, that's a bit embarrassing, isn't it?
[He shakes his head, getting to his feet and reaching to grab a robe so that he can pull it on one arm at a time, belting it around the middle, then circles around to her side of the bed so that he can lean down and press a kiss against her forehead.]
Enjoy your beauty rest; I'll have breakfast ready for us in no time.
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Waving him off sleepily, when he's finally out of the room, Amelia looks around for where her sweater was tossed off. After recovering it and putting it on, she slides back underneath the covers and closes her eyes. It's not actual sleep as it is taking in the ambient sounds in Gale's room and imprinting on its presence.
This is the first time in a long while she feels comfortable sleeping in another space that isn't hers.]
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Some time later, the bedroom door will creak the rest of the way open as he returns with a tray in hand, a second hovering alongside of him bearing two cups and a carafe of coffee.]
Still comfortable, I hope?
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Very comfortable. I usually... Don't like sleeping in other places. Even in my own room here, it took a while for me to adjust.
[She gives him a small smile before looking at the tray expectantly.]
So what's for breakfast?
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I am glad to hear it— I do hope you'll continue to make yourself at home.
[For the rest of this visit, for any that might follow— he does not wish for her to feel like a guest.
He proceeds to send one of the trays floating towards her with a flourish; their contents rearrange themselves so that it bears a single plate, coffee cup, and a set of flatware as it comes to hover in front of her, waiting to be grabbed hold of.]
This morning's repast is omelettes with bacon, mushrooms, onions and Waterdhavian cheese, served with toasted sourdough bread and dragonfire roast coffee, which should be strong enough to suit your tastes, I believe.
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... In a way though, that's fine, isn't it? It just means she gets homemade breakfast in bed to herself.
The breakfast spread is met with approval and she reaches for the coffee first.]
Dragonfire roast coffee sounds foreboding but the promise of caffeine intrigues me.
[She takes a sip. Assesses the taste. And nods in approval. A+ Gale.]
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Only a name, in this case. I think they wanted it to sound thrilling, but there are no actual dragons involved in the process— if there were, I don't know that the roasters would ever turn a profit, given their inclination towards hoarding. I'm pleased it meets with your approval! I know you take coffee quite seriously.
[He takes hold of his tray and puts a bit of cream in his own coffee before he helps himself to a long sip, followed by a contented exhale.]
As much as I do appreciate our many cafés and other establishments within the hotel, there's nothing quite like a cup of coffee you don't have to get dressed for.
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My friend's granddaughter runs a magical cafe.
Her enthusiasm for coffee and tea has consequently rubbed off on me. It's an interesting place; I'd say something similar to this hotel but smaller and you can happen upon it anywhere at any time, if that makes sense.
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It sounds like it's quite something— and quite novel, at that.
[He sets his cup down after another long sip so that he can take his fork and start in on his food properly, though he does keep stealing peripheral glances her way to ensure everything meets with her approval. He does aim to please.]
That must be difficult if someone wants to make their way there on purpose, though I assume she must have a way around that.
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Mm. The door to the cafe is more difficult to find on purpose. Rather, it makes its appearance to those who need rest. It's a very specific, yet nebulous type of magic that isn't the most reliable.
... I've thought about it as a way for us to reunite if there was ever the chance we'd be separated.
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You've given that thought, then?
[Though there is a note of surprise in his voice, it's far more noteworthy that he sounds as pleased as he does hopeful.
He turns his gaze very fixedly towards his plate, but there's no stopping the spread of his smile or the color that touches his face and the tips of his ears.]
I'd been considering similar strategies, though I don't know of any cafés or other venues that might serve us in that regard. All that means is having to make such means available on my own.
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Of course, I've thought about it. You're not supposed to carry all the weight by yourself, Gale.
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How fortunate he is, to have found something— someone— worth bridging the gap between worlds for.]
Only natural that we've both given it some thought, but it's still quite something to hear.
[He takes care not to let his gaze linger on her too long, not wanting to further her embarrassment, but his hand does creep a bit closer to hers on the mattress while he uses the other to cut his omelette apart with his fork, giving her a brief but meaningful glance.]
That last bit is going to take some getting used to.
[It is, however, what the word partnership implies, and that is what this sort of arrangement is meant to be, isn't it? Or so he's heard tell. His basis for comparison is, admittedly, quite limited— and extremely uneven.]
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... Gale. Togetherness encompasses many things.
[She sets down her fork and angles herself more so she's facing him directly.]
And if there's anything I've learned from my failures, it's that you should not feel alone when you're with someone else.
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Indeed, you're quite right. I feel much the same.
[Even if he has little basis for comparison. He knows what he does not want to find himself feeling again, and knows that what he's already been fortunate enough to experience with Amelia is far more fulfilling than his past attempts could have ever hoped to be. Their relationship may still be new by most standards, but the intent to grow together going forward has been made perfectly clear by the both of them.]
Yet here I am, thinking I would be saying the very same to you. I'm glad we're of the same mind.
[He does curl his fingers against her hand at last, just a momentary touch of affection.]
I think we've both had more than our share of loneliness. If I have things my way, that will become a distant memory for both of us.
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If you had known me when I was younger, none of this between us might have happened. Not because I would have been occupied at the time but rather...
[Her voice trails off trying to gauge her past self.]
Well. If you thought of me as only slightly difficult when we first met, I would have put up more of a fight against your affections as my younger self.
The point being, that loneliness isn't a distant memory for me, but if our time together has proven anything... Well, I'm more hopeful. You make me more hopeful.
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[There's a note of fond amusement in his voice, and he feels a fluttering in his chest that's beginning to become quite familiar as she curls her fingers against his.]
Perhaps I would have been intrigued by the challenge, instead— I've always been the ambitious sort. That said, you may not have found me quite so palatable, either. I had a reputation for being charming, but no doubt you would have found me arrogant. I certainly do, looking back.
[He hadn't missed the point, however. He focuses on what she'd said last, the weight of it not lost on him, because she has granted him the same.]
I am glad to be able to offer you such a thing. I know it is not insignificant, but it seems the least I can do— you have reminded there are things worth fighting for. That life is worth fighting for. It wasn't so long ago that I was resigned to bid it farewell.
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Well, she'll cope by stuffing said fork into her mouth and mumbling something inaudible as she chews, eyebrows screwed together as she tries to process what he said, even that last sobering bit.]
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He clears his throat and lets out a sheepish little chuckle as he looks back as his own breakfast, staring hard at his plate and biting back a broader smile as he reaches for his coffee cup.]
Perhaps a bit much for a first cup of coffee.
[He knows. He's a lot.]
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I find it ironic that I, a literature teacher keep finding myself at a loss for words when it comes to what you say to me.
[It could be that she's just concise even with her head stuffed full of book knowledge.]
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Hmm, are you certain that's not just because I keep using them all up before you've had a crack at them?
[He's well aware of his loquacious nature, but at least he can have a good sense of humor about it.]
I ought to be more considerate, really.
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At least wait for me to put my pants back on before you make such declarations.
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Right, of course. That would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. Though on the other hand, it would be a terrible shame.
[He's absolutely teasing, but if you're going to be even partially naked with someone while you eat breakfast, he thinks you should be able to have a good sense of humor about it.]
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If it's a terrible shame, then make sure that for next time, you can use your words where it counts.
[She's somehow still herself but behind her blunt wording and cool expression, the affection and joking behind it is not mistaken. It's there in how she remains as is, next to Gale in, eating breakfast in bed without any intent to leave until she feels like it.]
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I think, [he begins, that note of levity in his voice remaining,] someone more practiced at this sort of thing might be able to make some clever remark about how getting dressed at all might be overrated, but if I'm being perfectly honest with you, it sounds cold.
[He wrinkles his nose slightly, helping himself to more of his omelette.]
Maybe if I were a much younger man, I could have that sort of confidence, but I'm almost certain that kind of thing sounds better than it actually is.
[He says as though he's ancient. He's just barely 40.]
I would, however, like to invite you to enjoy my rooms at your leisure, if you've nowhere else to be today— the fireplace is excellent for reading in front of.
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A vacation from vacation with you then. I can't think of any better way to spend New Year's Day.
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I quite agree— and no one I would rather spend it with.
[He drops his chin to drop a chaste kiss against the top of her head before returning to his coffee, closing his eyes as he takes another long sip, followed by a satisfied exhale.]
Perfection.
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... I wasn't initially going to ask but.
[Amelia pauses. But then she gathers enough courage because considering how deep they're both in now...!]
Would you like me to stay over another night?
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He's sure he would look completely foolish to anyone else, with how much he's been smiling lately, but to be quite honest, he doesn't much care what anyone else thinks of him at the moment. He feels happier and more himself than he has in years, thanks to her.]
Dearest, you can stay as many nights as you wish, as far as I'm concerned. My door is always open to you, and what's mine is yours.
[Some men, he reckons, might be a touch hesitant about making such an open, standing offer, but he has always been one to pursue what he wants once he's certain of what, exactly, that is. Whatever may or may not happen when she stays does not matter nearly as much as her presence, her company. Even if they were to simply read their own books on the same sofa in companionable silence, he would be overjoyed.]
I rather enjoy waking up next to you.
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She lets her cooled-down coffee cup sit on her lap as she continues to lay her head against Gale's. Her face turns to rest her forehead against his shoulder.]
Your confidence is astounding.
... And if you'd like, you can visit my room too. You haven't seen it yet after all.
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[He's certain he doesn't need to spell it out: this is absolutely one of them. He leans down just enough to nuzzle his nose and lips against her vibrant hair as she rests her forehead against him; just being close is enough to make him feel at ease, and not for the first time, it occurs to him just how very right this all feels, how well they fit together. The fact that they hail from different worlds entirely doesn't matter in the least.]
I would be very interested to see how my other half lives. One never invites themselves into a lady's bedroom, but given that you've extended the invitation yourself...
[He trails off, grinning as he sets his coffee cup aside, the tray carrying the meager remains of his breakfast floating off to put itself in the kitchen.]
I'd like that very much, in fact.
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[Amelia puts her coffee cup on her tray and lets it float away, following Gale's. She does have to move at some point but his lips against her hair make her go "Just one more minute."
But eventually, she pushes herself off of his shoulder and swings her legs over the bed, glancing around for her pants.]
At the rate we're going, we might have to make sure we keep spare clothes in each other's rooms.
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I do like the sound of that.
[That would admittedly be something new for him, but a step he very much looks forward to. His voice is light and easy, playful as he watches her search for her pants with a mirthful gaze.]
Clothes, toothbrushes, other odds and ends— just practical, really. They're on the floor by the dresser, darling.
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[But considering how far they've come, it's more than likely to happen. At his direction, she moves and sweeps up her jeans, wrapping them around her arms. God, it's been a long while for her since she's done any of this. Recklessly falling into another person's arms, waking up the next morning in a bed that isn't her own next to someone she didn't think she'd fall in deep enough with...
When she glances over at Gale, however, and the way he looks at her and remembers everything from last night... Amelia, for once, doesn't feel burdened. She feels incredibly light even after all the promises she's made for the new year with him.]
Are we showering or taking turns? Your choice.
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He's partway through sitting back up and raking his fingers through his mussed hair when she asks him about the shower, and he freezes mid-motion, his face coloring suddenly despite all the playful flirting and doting he's already bestowed upon her this morning.
Did she just ask if he—
He clears his throat softly, giving her a sidelong glance that he hopes isn't too eager, just so that he might preserve some of his dignity.]
Is that an invitation?
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Never mind. I take it back.
[The very gall of this man to make her feel embarrassed after their big step!]
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Wait, Amelia—
[Clearly, he's unable to say the right thing in this moment, so he finally tosses the covers back and gets to his feet. He does not want this to go anything close to the way the last time he'd inadvertently embarrassed her did.]
You could— take back taking it back. I was surprised, that's all.
[He moves to put his arms around her middle from behind, if she'll let him— just a reminder that he's a very cuddly and lovable wizard, in case she forgot.]
Nobody has ever offered me that before.
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So she'll lean her back against him and reach up with one hand to pat the side of his face.]
Fine. The offer's back on the table. I did spring it on you suddenly, so that's on me.
[This is the struggle part of their relationship.]
Nothing has to happen, of course. I'd rather we take our time instead of rushing headfirst into whatever our fancies hit us with all the time.
[But it does say a lot that she's comfortable enough with him to want to share a moment as private and intimate as bathing.]
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If it's back on the table, then I would love to join you.
[Nothing has to happen, just as he'd told her the night before, but the offer is one that invites an intimacy that's a bit different from what they'd shared the night before, a vulnerability that he recognizes does require a great deal of comfort for one to show.]
We could follow some fancies. [He makes an effort to sound playfully innocent as he fully hugs her from behind, the warmth of him against her back.] But only if you like. As ever, I am more than happy to follow along at your pace.
[He's been patient and no less adoring for it so far— a single night is hardly going to change that.]
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No promises on the fancies.
[She doesn't even sound as strict when saying that and she turns herself around so she can wrap one arm around Gale's shoulder; from this angle, he can see her smile again.]
But let's get cleaned up together then.
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Let's— as my lady wishes.
Action; 3/05 Reunion
[There's no other fanfare or boisterous manner in which she announces her return to Hotel Caelum. Amelia had been very clear and concise about how she wanted to check up on Blackgale, her high school, and other supernatural matters that needed her input. Additionally, this came with the approximate length of time she would be home and when she would come back.
"Two weeks, give or take. I will return."
It wasn't an exact promise, but she always had a way of saying things and 100% meaning it with little wiggle room for interpretation.
This was an unspoken promise that the Emerald Witch wasn't about to break. And thus, she sits in the hotel lobby, seated on one of the sofas, drinking a black coffee and reading a book, waiting for her beloved's reply or appearance. Either or.]
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This afternoon finds him buried in his work in the small study in his room, hunched over a particularly delicate-looking old tome with his hair pulled half up to keep it from obscuring his vision and a pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Even as engrossed as he is, the shift in his attention is immediate when his phone alerts him to a new message, and he reaches for it with the hope that he'll see her name displayed on the screen for the first time in weeks.
At last. He's long due for a break, and he can't think of a better reason to take one than to welcome her back.]
I'll be there in the blink of an eye. Don't you dare move.
[It turns out that he'd been quite literal in his response; he leaves his work exactly where it is and uses an extended Blink spell rather than making his way to the elevator— a few seconds after his response, he appears in the lobby with a distinct pop!, wearing a broad smile.]
Well, well— welcome back, Ms. Steinbeck. I hope all was well in Blackgale?
[Of course she's drinking coffee and reading a book, looking as though she'd never even left the place and it's a day like any other. That's exactly like her.]
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Gale.
[She closes her book, sets down her coffee and stands up to smooth out her skirt.]
You didn't even give me time to move. As for Blackgale, all is well. The town didn't set itself on fire during my absence which is all I could really ask for.
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[As always, he meets her neutrality with his usual warmth and just a bit of teasing, and as she stands, he strides forward to close the distance between them.]
Very glad to hear all was as expected, just as I am glad the town can spare you a bit longer.
[Without ceremony, he puts his arms around her middle and hugs her against his chest, bringing his chin to rest atop her head.]
You were missed.
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You were missed.
There's more weight behind those words when it comes from him and knowing how much they treasured one another.
She gives him a squeeze]
I wasn't going to keep you waiting any longer than necessary.
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Her absence had made it feel significantly longer; he'd suddenly found himself keenly aware that it was, by a large margin, the longest they had gone without seeing one another since meeting, and he had decided he didn't much care for it. Her reassurance as she hugs him in return brings a softer smile to his face, and he gives her a gentle squeeze of his own in reply.]
I never doubted for a moment, of course. You had things that needed tending to.
[But he is grateful that she hadn't wanted to make him wait— selfishly, perhaps, but knowing his own time is potentially limited brought more weight to that effort, as well. He loosens his hold just enough to step back so that he can look down at her properly, his hands loosely clasped behind her back.]
Your students did well on their exams, I hope? I imagine it was good to see Berna and the others again, as well.
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Amelia smiles lightly at him as he pulls back and she makes a soft hum under her breath at his question.]
Some of them predictably fell behind, but most everyone else had put in their best efforts. I think everyone will be fine by the time the academic year ends.
As for Berna, she's in her workshop. I don't think I'll be seeing her for another few weeks or so, but that's usually a sign that she's perfectly fine.
[Before she continues, Amelia takes another step back, but keeps one hand over Gale's.]
How does a walk and then some lunch sound to you? I'll tell you more as we go.
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That sounds perfect— I can think of nothing I'd like more.
[Before shifting, he takes the opportunity to lean down to give her a chaste but heartfelt kiss, a proper welcome back. It's more reserved than what his heart spurs him to do otherwise, but he'll not overwhelm her so soon after arriving, and certainly not in the lobby of all places.
Once she's had time to settle, perhaps.
He shifts so that they're comfortably arm-in-arm, happy to let her lead the way in this little stroll of theirs.]
I'll admit, I'm curious to know if you've had cause to mention this place while you were home. How did time flow there, while you've been away?
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She leads him to the elevator and presses the button for the room that should bring them to the Vale of Tears once again. They could use the dreamy scenery and privacy.]
You bring up some interesting questions... To be honest, my visit back home felt vague. Not a significant amount of time had passed. Maybe a month at most? While here, I've been on vacation at Caelum for months now.
[The elevator door makes a light 'ding' and slides open to reveal the beautiful Vale.]
Admittedly, I decided not to think too hard about the mechanics of it. My mind would have wandered if I tried to box in the logistics.
[Amelia briefly leans her head against his shoulder as they walk out into the vivid spring-green grass.]
And then you would have waited for me for three weeks instead.
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Here, he had realized how truly special she really was, how easy and natural her companionship felt despite her describing herself as difficult, how it was clear that he had met someone who understood how it was that he saw the world.
He gives her forearm a fond squeeze as they head out into the Vale itself, her head against his shoulder a more than welcome presence after so long apart. He'd gone without human touch for so long until shortly before meeting her that he'd thought two weeks, in the greater scheme of things, would be easy enough to manage. He had been terribly wrong, as it turns out.]
Interesting. It's certainly not unheard of, time passing differently between realms, but it's one thing to read or discuss a theory— another entirely to actually experience such a thing firsthand. Disorienting, I would imagine, but I consider myself very fortunate you chose not to let derail you. Three weeks.
[He shakes his head as he echoes her, putting a rather dramatic hand over his heart.]
Perish the thought. I've barely slept in two as is.
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But here they are again and so much has changed already.
Like how Gale's wellbeing is one of her top priorities because, Mr. Waterdeep, please...!]
Two? Two days?
[That has unexpectedly made her brows furrow with concern before she straightens up and pauses when they stop in the shade of a giant mushroom. Amelia cups his face with her hands to examine him closely.]
That's bad for your health. I know what it's like to lose track of the clock, but you know better.
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He laughs softly, raising a hand to rest over hers against his face as she stops to examine him beneath the mushroom, though he does turn his head as directed so that she can inspect him thoroughly.]
Ah, I admit, some of it was due to getting a bit caught up in my work, but I rather meant—
[He raises a loose fist to cover his mouth as he clears his throat.]
Something a bit more romantic? I slept enough, surely, but it turns out I've become quite accustomed to having company.
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The clarification gives her pause and then slowly, but surely, redness creeps into her cheeks as she sheepishly turns her gaze to the grass beneath their feet.
Yes, they've been together for a significant amount of time and have been intimate in more ways than one, and she still reacts like this. Amelia doesn't know whether she's in her 70s or a foolish young woman sometimes.]
Then... Yes. Yes, it's... Been a while now, hasn't it?
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Oh! Goodness, I didn't mean— well, I didn't not mean—
[He certainly hadn't meant anything terribly blushworthy by it on the surface, but he supposes it's all rather tied up together, isn't it? To say that he hadn't missed that as well would have been a lie, of course, but it was the who that mattered to him, far more than the what.
He exhales as he stumbles over his words, then laughs softly as he takes her face between his hands and gently tips it back upwards so he can meet her gaze, collecting himself enough to find his composure again.]
I only meant that I missed you dearly. I've become quite accustomed to your company, you know.
[And he's grown quite fond of waking up beside her whenever he has the opportunity, regardless of what may or may not have happened the night before.]
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Amelia will internally scream at herself until morale improves.
Gale cupping her face with his hands simultaneously and paradoxically soothes her and causes warmth to creep across the surface of her skin. Her own gaze is evasive, but it's not like there's much room to escape his eyes and his soft laughter that makes her heart beat faster.]
I mean... I didn't just mean that, but— oh, forget it.
[Her hands find rest on his forearms as she inhales and exhales to relax herself.]
I'm too old to be acting like this...
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You are perfectly fine, just as you are.
[He huffs a laugh, his smile quirking to one side.]
I think we're both overthinking this a bit. I do know that I'm overjoyed to see you again, my heart.
[He leans down to kiss her properly then, lingering longer than the last time; not enough to incite anything, but he allows just a touch of heat to peek through. He murmurs the next part against her lips; he knows it may earn him a playful swat, but if she's already blushing—
Well, he simply can't have her thinking she was the only one with that sort of reunion in mind.]
And if I have my way, no one will see you emerge from your rooms for the next two days.
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Clearly, I should have taken the third week if you're already promising to over deliver.
[Ever the blunt one, this witch.]
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I don't know if either of us would be able to handle the dire state you would have returned to find me in if you had.
[He's already been suffering from those third-degree yearns as it is.]
Thank goodness you're here now.
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[She rolls her eyes because sometimes, Gale of Waterdeep was a bit much. Amelia takes one hand in his to lead them past the babbling brook and smaller waterfalls so they can make their way further into the Vale.]
That said... Let's not... Overdo it if we're going to...
[insert noncommittal gesture here]
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Right. Of course.
[He squeezes her hand as he allows himself to be led forward, raising his free hand to rest over his heart.]
I will be the perfect picture of gentlemanly moderation. For the present, however, there is a lovely sense of nostalgia, returning to this place with you.
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they're going to have to order room service aren't theyHer lips quirk at his remark about this floor. Butterflies flutter past as they pass by several dice structures.]
I don't know if anyone else among us have been here yet. In a way, I suppose I haven't told anyone about it since it feels like it's for us.
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Well, he'll be far too busy to cook...The butterflies draw his gaze briefly, and he chuckles softly as they steadily walk towards the sound of rushing water.]
I quite like that. I've mentioned it in passing, but have never brought myself to tell anyone else where it is, or all that we saw here. I don't know that I much like the idea of sharing it, come to think of it.
[They'd learned a lot about one another here, that much was for certain.]
This is where I first knew, you know.
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[She remembers that they had witnessed the fragments and echoes of each other's pasts. Gale eventually revealed all that ailed him even up until now. Amelia hadn't.
They make it to the crying statue soon enough and she muses over what he just said.]
I hope that me crying wasn't what made you realize that.
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No, no— quite some time before that, though I was quite touched that you felt able to be so open in front of me, even if only for a moment.
[His gaze is drawn to the statue, as well; he gazes up at it as he had then, and it is just as striking a visual as it had been the first time, a curiosity to be explored.]
It was right about here, in fact. We proved ourselves to be a rather remarkable team for the first time, that day.
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[And she means romantic beyond the expected definition though it's certainly that as well.]
I didn't check into the hotel ever expecting to land unceremoniously into a cross-dimensional relationship.
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[He does often get caught up in the poetry of things; even beyond the standard definition of romance, he's always been one to wear his heart on his well-tailored sleeve, a man driven by his passions despite his own knack for logic.]
Though I can't say I expected things to turn out as they have, either. Truth be told, I'd rather thought myself done with romance entirely.
[It hadn't been so long before his arrival that he'd been so certain that Mystra would hold his heart forever, that he would have done anything to find himself back in her good graces. It seems ages ago, now.]
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She lets go of his hand so that both of hers can rest behind her back. Even over the din of the bubbling and splashing waterfall, the playfulness in her voice can't be missed.]
I apologize for dragging you back into the whirlpool of it then. Abruptness is an ongoing theme with me after all.
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Yes, you really ought to be. It's been absolutely terrible, having my faith in such things restored.
[The playfulness in her voice makes him smile, and he looks briefly in the other direction as though to take in the scenery before turning sharply on his heel, reaching quickly to grab her by her waist and letting his fingers lightly play against her sides before he puts his arms around her from behind, unwilling to let her play coy for long.]
Minx. I find I quite enjoy the whirlpool, so long as it's in your most excellent company. [More seriously, he goes on to add:] My time with you has reminded me that a future is something well worth fighting for.
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When you talk like that, it's no wonder trouble is your friend.
[Regardless, his latter statement makes her smile and she leans into him with a quiet hum.]
You're not going to let me out of your sight today, are you?
[You know, it's just a feeling she's getting.]
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[He heaves an over-exaggerated sigh for punctuation, though his persistent smile is still quite apparent in the warmth of his voice.]
I can't risk you slipping away again. While I most certainly support your tending to your responsibilities elsewhere, I'll have it known that I've been exceedingly patient in your absence, which does, scientifically, make the heart grow fonder.
[It's been proven, he's quite certain.]
I think everyone else can wait just a bit longer, hm?
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That is the talk of a man who I feel is most certainly becoming impatient as time passes.
I think I can fix that.
[What else is there to be said? Two weeks is a long time. Her hands cup Gale's face as she pulls him into another kiss and it's very warm and very purposeful with its growing heat.]
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[The question is equal parts playful and rhetorical, the trailing of her hands up the length of his arms answer enough in itself, and he leans down to meet her easily as she cups his face and kisses him with intent, returning it with heat and intent of his own as he slides his fingers into her hair as he lays his hand against the side of her face and curls an arm around her waist, all too eager to pull her flush against him.
It feels right, to share this moment here.
His own kiss is insistent, as full of longing as it is ardent heat, and it's only when he's forced to break for breath that he takes a brief moment to murmur against her lips:]
Welcome back, my love.