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"Yes, Mother," Miriam had shot back simply, earning herself another glare. |
Astarion had given her a single sidelong glance on her way to the river and huffed. "Well. I could have done without you bringing a mountain down on my head, but I'm certainly relieved my favorite food has made it back relatively unscathed." |
"I love you too, Astarion," Miriam had said dryly. She'd patted his shoulder solely to watch him make his usual catlike scowl. |
"Now, now," he’d grumbled. "I didn't say all of that." |
No amount of magical cleaning could ever measure up to the weightlessness of actually being in the water. Miriam knew several people who would vehemently disagree — bloody wizards, too, all of them — but as she stripped off her ruined clothing and walked further into the cool, gentle rush lapping against glistening moonlit rocks, she felt weeks of accumulated stress melt off of her shoulders. She dipped her head under the water, savoring the soft murmur of sand, clay, and rock beneath her feet as she scrubbed her hair clean with a sweet scented bar of hair soap. Raspberry and rose, a piece of home surviving unscathed all this time in the depths of her holding pouch, tucked away in what was turning out to be a truly indestructible backpack. |
This, too, reminded her of Cassian, who'd noticed her fondness for the scent at an outdoor market as a girl and surprised her with a soap and perfume set she'd grown to replace with the same product regularly and religiously. But it was a lighter sort of memory. One that filled her chest with a wistful pang, a sliver of sorrow that rested for a moment and then took flight instead of growing roots and burrowing them into her bones. |
"Are you covered?" Gale called out, the soft soles of his shoes crunching lightly on the twigs and leaves strewn across the path to the river. "With water, at least? I've brought you clothes." |
"Still hovering, I see," she teased. She was struck with a sudden urge to resurface from the water, bare chest on full display, just to see how he'd react. Images of his faint blush flickered through her head. She'd seen his fantasies. Would he be brazen enough to take the view he was offered? Would he stammer, suddenly bashful as he averted his eyes? |
But the moment passed quickly, slipping through her fingers like wet sand as he approached, a stack of purple fabric balanced in his hands alongside a plate of fruit and a lit candle. "You vanished rather quickly," he said dryly. "Forgive me for wondering if you'd wandered into yet another calamity." |
"Alone? What's the fun in that?" She grinned. "Shouldn’t have saved my life down there. I'm afraid you've spoiled me for company, Gale of Waterdeep." She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped on her tiptoes to peer at the plate he set down on a nearby rock. "Are those grapes? Where in the hells did you find those?" |
"Karlach found them, apparently. Then went on a bloody picnic while we were knee deep in spider carcasses." |
Miriam choked on a laugh at the way Gale's nose wrinkled in annoyance. Gods, but she wanted to kiss that wrinkle off of his face. "Pass me one of those hard-earned grapes, then. I'd say we deserve it." |
He reached down obligingly, fruit in hand, and then let out an undignified squawk when she grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the water with her. "What in the — why?" he sputtered when he surfaced. "You traitor. I can't believe I trusted you." |
"Maybe that was your first mistake," she teased, but even as she said it, she reached out and cupped his cheeks between her palms. Carefully avoiding actually touching him with the rest of her bare body — she didn't think either of them were ready for that quite yet — she leaned forward and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. A token, at most. A whispered promise of things to come. |
"Oh," he breathed. |
She wanted him. Gods, she wanted him, wanted this, with a longing ache that stirred her soul like nothing else had in a long, long time. "Thank you," she whispered. |
Something complicated flickered across his features, but he only pressed their foreheads together, eyes fluttering closed as he took in a deep, shuddering breath. "I cannot imagine having done anything else." |
They averted an awkward silence after that as he dragged himself out of the water first and turned towards camp, muttering to himself again about his hatred of damp underwear as he enspelled himself dry. Miriam followed suit, chuckling as she realized the clothing he'd brought her were his spare set of night clothes magicked down to her size. "Hardly a kiss and I'm already wearing your pyjamas?" she said as she eased her sandals back on and toed at his ankle with a grin. "What's next, a beachfront house and a cat?" |
"It was the best I could manage on such short notice—" he sputtered, but she shushed him with a finger over his lips. |
"Thank you," she repeated firmly. |
There it was again, that rosy sheen coating the apples of his cheeks, bringing life and color even to the shadowy hue of the Orb’s markings streaking down his face. Scarcely a day and she'd already become enamored with it, with the way his blush bloomed and traveled to the very tip of his nose. He was a different person entirely with his guard down. |
But then again, wasn't she also? Wasn't everyone? |
Gale's voice broke through her thoughts again. "So," he said slowly. "You, er, and Astarion, then. You aren't—" |
Miriam couldn't help it. His reaction, his hesitation, the expression on his face, it all drew raucous laughter from her lips as she threaded her fingers through his. "Gods, no," she wheezed. "Though he will be very pleased to know we've definitively fooled yet another one of you. I suppose we'll have to redouble our efforts when people find out you and I haven't bitten each other's heads off down here alone together." |
"You're a monster," Gale muttered, but his lip quirked up as he offered her a bright sidelong glance that was so unequivocally him — somehow shy and soft and brash and forward all at once — and for a moment the rest of her troubles melted into a quiet background murmur. He squeezed her hand in return. The moonlight twinkled in his eyes and sang a song of budding hope, new beginnings, and fresh colors on the horizon. |
Petra's mind has been a maelstrom of worries for quite a while now, however if someone had told her that amidst tadpoles, cults, and shadow cursed lands that her mind would be consumed with matters of the heart and loins- well, she'd think they were crazy. |
But, perhaps she's the crazy one. |
She never expected to love again, never expected to find someone who felt like home, or makes her heart stutter on every other beat. But she never expected to have a tadpole shoved into her eye or to pull a wizard from a stone- let alone for that very wizard be the one doing this to her. Life is full of surprises, as is her lover. |
Ugh, gods- she has a lover. |
The very thought makes her face burn, her heart pound, and her guts twist. If she didn't know any better she'd think herself ill, but alas- she's learned that's merely Gale's influence on her. The wizard needed no charms or illusions to win her affection, but he warned her early on- well before either of them had realized what was growing between them, that he had a taste for grand gestures. |
And grand they were. |
He conjured her stars and shifting auroras against an ink black night, he showed her his home, his sanctuary without her needing to step a foot into Waterdeep. And he plucked their very souls from their bodies, to kiss and touch and merge within a realm beyond their own. Glittering blue forms, never knowing quite where his touch ended and hers began, surrounded and consumed by him. An electric blur of his touch over her very being. |
She would have been content with a flower and a bowl of his deer stew, but who is she to turn down the adoration fueled gestures of a man she does not deserve. |
Which in part is why she can't help but suspect she might be being just a touch greedy... |
Made all the worse by her greed and insecurity tugging her mind back and forth between them like rabid dogs would a slice of steak. |
In some ways she's already done the hardest part, confessing her desire to Gale felt like a herculean task in itself, a stumble of poorly put together words while her face burned hotter than Karlach's engine. But ultimately, she got the message across and Gale as always was far too eager to oblige. |
Though, he seems intent to oblige her request in his Gale way of obliging. |
Because, you see, her request is incredibly simple. Despite her anxiety and insecurity- she wants to fuck Gale the old fashioned way. She loved the way they bonded before and truly will jump to do it again, but she just can't help but also want the more mundane variety. To feel flesh and bone, to touch his skin, to press her lips against his throat and feel his pulse race beneath her tongue. This of course means he'll also be seeing her naked properly without blue blurry auras smoothing out her every- less excited for that, but her desire for him outweighs her shame for herself. |
And this simple request, frankly- could have been sated nearly the moment it was made in the privacy of his tent. He needed only to roll her onto her back or pull her to straddle his hips, a few garments tossed aside, the dark providing her with some some cloaking while still getting to feel and see him- gods bless darkvision. |
But that would be far too simple, her request instead met with a wide smile a; "Say no more, consider it done, my love," a kiss goodnight, and the looming knowledge that he was planning something. |
So, perhaps surprise is too strong a word when she returns to camp after a brief walk alone to find her companions snickering and Gale's mirror image standing outside his tent. Thin ripples of weave radiating through an otherwise perfect copy of her favorite wizard. She knows it could be perfect, saw him make one perfect before- the imperfections intentional, to let her know it's not him and instead a messenger. |
Petra skirts past her chattering friends, pretending she doesn't feel several sets of eyes following her as she stands before the replication of her dearest. Who merely beams with that bright smile that she's come to adore, even if it's merely a simulacrum of it. |
"Heh, I take it Gale has some plans for us tonight?" She whispers towards the mirror image, trying to keep prying ears from learning too much. Not that her and Gale are secretive about their relationship by any means, but not every one of their friends needs to know when they're having sex. |
"That he does and I have the most wonderous task of taking you to see him, words cannot begin to express how eager he is to see you tonight," the mirror image chirps, not even a hint of shame or volume control as his eyes burn with that same flame of adoration the real Gale always seems to carry- her face flushing beneath its heat. |
"Ugh, hells you two are going to make me throw up a perfectly good meal, would you please take your simpering gazes elsewhere," Astarion calls out from around the campfire, a hint of a smile in his words, then his lips when Petra turns to glower at him. |
"I hardly think whatever shadow cursed vermin you've managed to snack on out here counts as a good meal- but rest assured, I am leaving." |
"But of course- after all your little magician is so very eager," he mocks again and if he weren't her friend, she'd kick his arse- still might. |
"Oh lay off her, Fangs- it's cute, like two pups wagging their tails at each other." |
"I believe nauseating is the word you're looking for," Shadowheart chimes in, "I mean really, not a drop of shame between the two, every time he leaves behind one of those mirror images- he might as well just declare that they're about to go rut around in the woods all night." |
"Date nights are perfectly healthy for a newly bonded couple-" |
"Dates- is that what you think they're doing out there? In the middle of nowhere, alone- you think they're, what, chatting about their favorite books over a glass of wine?" Astarion cuts Wyll off, incredulous that he would refer to Petra and Gale's outings as a date. |
"I mean, wouldn't really be all that shocked if they were- it is Gale, after all..." |
"Regardless, I think seeing our friends form such a union is something to be celebrated not mocked." |
"Their carnal desires are hardly any of our concern, so long as they remain vigilant in battle- however, I must say I do find it curious that the wizard always seeks to be hunted, he might as well submit outright if he cannot best her in combat." |
"Oh, I'm sure he does plenty of submitting." |
"I don't know "bout that, Petra may be bossier but look at the poor thing- redder than a devil's arsehole, probably turns into a mess the moment clothes start comin" off." |
Petra grasps the mirror image's arm, her face burning hot and no doubt just as red as Karlach said. She hisses between gritted teeth; "Get me the fuck out of here." |
"Your wish is my command, now- let us find more pleasant company," he assures her, quickly walking her away from the camp as their friends speculate about their sex life. |
"And by that, you mean yourself," she teases, leaning against the mirror image's arm. The conjured form isn't a perfect match, both from the rippling static like eminence of weave and it being a little less shameful than her Gale. But it carries his warmth, his smell- like the innards of an old library, cozy and welcoming. |
"Would you have it any other way?" |
"Gods no," she admits, burrowing her face into his arm, hiding her flushed cheeks from his view. |
"Careful now, I'd hate to be jealous of myself," Gale's voice rings out, more alive, more human and not right beside her- her head shoots up, the sky is bathed in shifting colors and twinkling lights. Her Gale just a short walk away; "Though I can hardly blame you, he is quite handsome." |
And that’s all she needs, letting go of the mirror image, the half-elf rushes towards him- the real him, a small laugh escaping Gale’s lips as she throws her arms around him. As nice as the fake one is, it will never feel as good as touching the real thing. His heat seeping in between their clothes, warming her skin- that must of old books and lavender offset slightly by the salt of his sweat. His large hands holding her in kind, one settling on the small of her back and the other stroking through her hair. She takes a deep breath, a heavy inhale and exhale of him, before finally lifting her head ever so slightly- enough to look up at him, |
The way he looks at her could melt all of Frostfell. Those soft brown eyes looking at her like she’s hung the stars and moon, all the while he’s the one who’s conjured the sky above them. |
"A good evening to you too," he greets, smiling so sweetly and she stands up on her tiptoes- Gale meeting her need as she presses a kiss to that very smile. The warm press of his mouth against hers sending heat and butterflies through her very veins, she breaks back before she can get carried away. Not wanting to ruin his plans, but struggling to stifle the desire to kiss him until her lungs ache. |
"Good evening," she hums back instead, squeezing him tighter, her eyes looking around the wide field bathed in the glow of soft purples and blues. It’s largely familiar, the same space and view he created the night he brought their very souls together- when he confessed his fear, his love, and so much more. Where she pleaded for him to stay, for him to live. |
Though with one very new addition to the expanse of field- an extraordinarily out of place bed. Lavish and lush with deep indigo blankets, bathed in the glow of the sky and the burning of a torch mounted in the ground beside it- the addition betraying the reason they’re here tonight. |
"You know what I can’t help but notice?" Petra remarks after a beat of silence, a quiet moment of simply sinking into one another’s hold- blinking up at her wizard. |
"My dashing good looks?"He asks, a small smile and a raise of his brow. |
"Mm, yes, but no more than usual," she plays along, smiling against him. Knotting her fingers in the plush purple of his tunic,debating on if she should slip her hands beneath the fabric- wanting to feel more of his skin. |
"My brilliant mind and ever expanding intellect?" |
"Well, that just goes without saying," she assures him, heaping on the praise for him. |
"Hmm, than it must be my veritable wealth of charm and wit." |
"Close and before you ask- no, it’s not your modesty either," she teases, scratching her nails over his back through his shirt- trying to sate her ache to touch him, "What I can’t help but notice is that whenever you pull me away for a night via your mirror image- it seems to mean I’m the one left dealing with the whispers of our companions." |
He grimaces slightly, somewhat between amusement and annoyance; "Ah, yes, a... much unfortunate consequence, but one we simply can’t avoid, I’m afraid." |
"Oh, is that so?" She teases, laughing through her smile, "Funny how that unavoidable consequence seems to benefit you." |
"Life is full of those funny little mysteries, I think it wise to embrace- not question, these curiosities." |
"Thats quite a fancy way of saying you intend to keep throwing me to the wolves," she chirps, pulling a hand back to slap him playfully in the ribs, he merely laughs because he knows exactly what he’s doing; "Do you know that right now, at this very moment- our friends gossiping like hens about which one us... takes the lead?" |
"Ah, yes, I’m... terribly sorry to have missed that conversation." |
"And yet, I suspect you’re not sorry at all," she comments, reaching upward she strokes through his hair- tracing a streak of gray that curls around his ear, soft brown strands slipping between her fingers. He’s so lucky he’s so damned adorable. |
"Oh, but I am- absolutely contrite that I could not steal you away before their sordid chatter reached your ears- after all, I’m no more keen on our proclivities being the subject of discussion than you are," he admits and she hums, a small smirk on her lips as he continues on, trying to insist he definitely feels bad about leaving the gossipy shit for her to handle. |
"Perhaps not, but you do seem keen on leaving me to handle it." She points out again, cradling his jaw- his beard scratching her palm as she rubs her thumb along his cheekbone. Petra often wonders if he minds the callouses that cling to her skin. Her flesh so much rougher than his, he leans into her touch, presses his jaw to her hand. |
"And my apologies are most sincere, however if you still find yourself unconvinced- perhaps I can show you the depth of my remorse?" He asks, pressing his forehead to hers, lips a breath away, "You need only ask, demand any penance you deem fit- and I will gladly pay it." |
"There is no sin against you, no matter size or severity, that I would not repent for." |
"Well, I mean, I wouldn’t mind a kiss," she admits, the only thought on her mind when his face is so close to hers- when his lips are just a breath away. When one tilt of her head, one jolt would crash their lips together. |
"Hmm, I think you may not have a full understanding of what penance means, my dear, typically-" |
"Gale," she says, looking up at him with the sternest eyes she can manage- no doubt stopping him from prattling off the definition of penance. Because she’s in love with a sentient thesaurus. |
"You have until the count of three to kiss me and if you don’t- I’m going to bite you," she threatens, not sure how much she wants him to listen- she does like biting him, "One-" |
"Thinking over my options," he chimes, sing songy as he seems equally unsure of which choice he likes more. |
"I do rather like your love bites, but your kisses are quite enchanting as well." |
His lips press to hers, deeper than before. One of her hands twists in his tunic, the other in the his hair. He cradles her jaw and lower back, pulling each other closer, she can’t help the small sigh of happiness and bliss as his tongue pushes into her mouth. The faintest taste of his cooking still on his tongue, a hint of mint where he tried to clear it out- maybe she should have been so kind. |
Their kisses are still clumsy, a slightly awkward press and swirl of tongues, both single and isolated for a year or more. But it feels like warmth and love and home in a way she can’t define, heat simmering between her thighs when the hand on her back moves lower. A broad palm playfully squeezing at her ass, tugging her closer, the grope of his fingers sinking into the plush of her flesh- a soft moan echoing from her throat, muffled by his tongue. |
They break apart, breathing ragged- hot puffs of air across each other’s lips. She can feel the heat clinging to the apples of her cheeks, mirrored in the flush that creeps beneath Gale’s beard. Petra grins up at his beautiful red face, the brown of his eyes nearly swallowed by the black of his pupil. |
"Three," she whispers, catching his lower lip between her teeth and nipping playfully at the kiss swollen flesh. Gale groans, deep and throaty, sending molten heat right to her cunt. His lips pulls out from between her teeth as he pulls her into a desperate hungered kiss. |
It’s deeper than the last, even more ravenous and rough, both of his hands now groping at her backside- kneading at her flesh, feeling his fingers sinking into the plush of her flesh through her clothing. Wishing his hands were beneath her clothes, on her skin, pressing into her properly. |
She tugs at his hair, scratches her nails along his scalp as he kisses her deeper and deeper, her lungs burning by the time she feels the back of her thighs bumping something soft. Breaking off the kiss to see she’s somehow been staggered back to the bed. It’s plush blankets and rows of pillows beckoning her. She can’t help but giggle. |
"Couldn’t settle for a dirty bedroll, could you?" She teases, stealing another soft kiss. |
"The least I could do for your comfort, time spent together in the flesh should be no less beautiful than that spent in the celestial- whatever way you’ll have me, I wish only to make it perfect for you." |
"Then... wish no more," she murmurs, voice soft as she avoids the intensity of his gaze, the adoration that consumes his words and expression, "You’re here with me, I could not imagine anything more perfect than that." |
"Careful now, keep talking that way- you may never be rid of me," he tries to joke, to tease- but when she forces herself to look back up at him, she can see the flush of his cheeks deepening as his smile widens. |
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