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vespaer77 · 3 days

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I'd like to tell you a story...

... about my first Tav, Shayla Moonsong.

She is a Zariel tiefling, and a College of Lore Bard, and while she wasn't my first Tav, she was the first one to finish the game. I had romanced Lae'zel, Shadowheart, and Astarion in early access, so I focused on her because I was anxious to try a new romance, Halsin. However, because she was created just after full release, her save file was horrifically bugged. I got the cut scenes for Halsin that allowed me to progress his companion quest and cure Moonhaven of the shadow curse, but after that I could get no further dialogue from him at all, even in camp. I was playing with a party limit mod by the time he joined my party, so I never needed to worry about dismissing him from my party, but I did occasionally have difficulty with him following the party. I had to run around controlling him a lot. The only scene I ever got with him once he joined me was specifically his sex scene, after I did the love test at the circus in Act 3. I knew literally nothing about him, lol, so I had to google the answers.

But that was the thing. I knew… nothing about this guy. He was just some hot elf my bard boned, I had zero investment in him other than that. And it became a head canon for me about her - she was a typical bard, slutting her way to the Gate. She slept with the Emperor, she had a foursome with the drow twins and Halsin, and she absolutely played Haarlep's game to get his pass code. And while I'd wished, at the time, I could have had the additional enrichment of a poignant, heartfelt romance, I did enjoy exploring a character that was more free with her sexuality. As a result, though, I'd ended up "saving myself" for Halsin, because I knew his romance would (or in my case should but didn't) open up very late in the game. And I'd shot down all of the other companions fairly quickly.

Including Gale.

Especially Gale.

He was still bugged at the time, and his… overly amorous nature, lol, was widely known to anyone who'd spent more than ten minutes on the internet. So I ignored a lot of opportunities to know him better. And at the time, he was honestly my least favorite character. Particularly because I truly didn't enjoy him in early access. I genuinely found him offputting and way too over the top, and subsequently much of his narrative flew straight over my head.

Like a Boeing 777.

But let's be honest. Because of the nature of his story, and the way he seems to compartmentalize his trauma as devotion, and because of the mask of charm and confidence he wears to convince your character of his usefulness, and the way he tempers his emotions so he doesn't upset the orb, all of these things… the complexity of his narrative is super duper subtle. Or at least to me it was. I was the complete dumb dumb that didn't pick it up from context like we were supposed to.

Until I played my bard, Shayla. The first one to get through Act 3.

I had saved the culmination of Gale's quest in Sorcerous Sundries til nearly the end. Just before all the stuff with the foundry and Gortash. At the time, he was still a checklist item, a box to mark off on my road to the final boss.

So I went into it feeling like this man was probably pretty fed up with me, lol. And then he read the Annals of Karsus and I realized right then just how much I'd taken this character for granted. Because everything about him, his entire personality, shifted right there, and he became… someone else. And everyone else in my party noticed it too. The choice of responses I was given was crafted in a way that made me feel like the writers very much wanted me to notice a change had taken place within Gale. And then I picked a response that was honestly a touch unkind. I don't remember what I said to him, but…

He yelled at me.

"She left me to die!" he said. I remember that part.

And when the camera panned back to me and the party, we were all wide eyed and reared away from him in shock and disbelief that this charming, confident, gregarious, and benign creature was suddenly so… dark. And it was at that moment that a light switch was flipped. The missing puzzle piece was found and snapped into place. Suddenly I understood everything I'd missed up to that point, and it was more than just an "ah hah!" moment. It was an, "Oh my god…" moment. He hadn't become someone else.

We were seeing who he truly was for the first time.

His mask had slipped. Cracked beneath strain. He'd been pushed to a breaking point.

Naturally, because he's Gale, he recovered quickly. But it was too late. I saw him. And then two things happened. I fell in love with him. Instantly. But then I also realized the game was almost over. His romance opportunity had come and gone, there wouldn't be a "confess your love at the last minute" option. And of course his fate at the end of the game was not so kind to my bard either.

I've had big feelings about it ever since.

And then the Hugs mod came out, which only served to further poke my great big ouchy feelings.

I've lived in head canon land for a while now when it comes to Shayla Moonsong. In my head canon, he did end up taking her advice, he did pick an outcome that didn't involve using the Crown of Karsus or the Karsite Orb, and in no way did he become a pulverized cloud of stardust. He ended the game living peacefully in Waterdeep, giving Tara belly rubs and ushering in the next generation of wizards without grooming them for a lifetime of suffering.

But that leaves Shayla herself and her big, unresolved feelings. Feelings that were never processed or acknowledged, as the time was never right between her relationship status with Halsin and the fate of the world resting on her shoulders.

So, what is a bard to do when she falls in love, but it's too late?

Nothing small, that's for sure. And it will probably involve singing.

(I'm planning on maybe two to three chapters for this story, in which she very much makes things worse before they get better, lol. She's still learning. But it's definitely gonna end with some light cunnilingus and good, heavy railing either on a kitchen counter or against a bookshelf. I haven't decided yet. I do hope, if you do decide to read this humble beginning, that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And also please excuse my ill attempts at self-effacing meta humor.)

Pairing: Gale / named fem!Tav bard Rating: Smut is imminent (once we get through the foreplay… er, mutual pining) Word count: 4790

Read the story HERE or under the cut

Chapter One: The Wizard, The Real One

"Is there a loan shark in the audience or something?" Jory asked.

"Hmm?" Nelsyn replied, but she didn't look up from her lines. He supposed that was fair. She was busy letting Sara fix the adhesive on the curly teal wig that sat between her horns, and Jory knew as well as anyone on cast that nothing good came from troubling the crew. He let his heavy bear pelt slip from his shoulders as he sat down in the empty chair next to her.

"She's been there all night," he told his friend as he nodded toward the entryway to stage right. "Boss lady. We've been touring this show for months. We could all do it in our sleep, she knows that. Never seen her hover like this."

And there was no reason for it. "The Fall of the Absolute" was a roaring success. The production was Shayla Moonsong's crowning achievement, a media darling, and the current obsession of a whole continent. She'd catalogued volumes of stellar, five-star reviews thus far, and was selling out box offices everywhere she went. The show was the hottest new thing since "Volo's Guide to Sex in the Elemental Planes."

But it wasn't her biggest accomplishment. It wasn't what she was truly known for.

She was the Hero of Baldur's Gate.

She faced the illithid Netherbrain herself, and won.

And the tale they were telling in front of all those people was her story.

Heavens knew the winsome bard had faced far greater perils than watching a chapter of her life play out on a stage.

And yet there she stood, on this most unremarkable of nights, leaning just inside the door frame where she could observe without obstructing. Where she could scan the audience like a scrying eye, searching for… something. Normally she'd be flitting about like a cloud of gnats directing the cast and crew, answering questions, giving orders, helping the caterer, filling water jugs, finding toilet paper, running errands, meeting VIPs. Trying not to go crazy. But not tonight. Tonight she stood very still, chewing her thumbnail and unconsciously flicking the tip of her tail over and over, hard to the left.

And Jory remembered what Nelsyn had said about what it meant when tieflings flicked their tail to the left.

She was clearly nervous about something.

"Well, we're about to do the big emotional number," Nelsyn finally told him, closing the cover of her script while Sara gave her wig a good yank to test the glue. "It's the one all the teenage girls are sobbing over their sketch pads for right now."

She stopped to take a sip of water when Sara bent to pick up her cosmetics case. The girl made a gesture to Jory to give up his seat, and he tripped over his own feet unfolding himself to stand up. Once again he was reminded why he was cast as the big druid, Halsin. Shayla had told him once that while he wasn't quite as tall as the real thing… he was close. He wondered how easily the boss lady's former lover would have fit into that chair.

"This is our first time in Waterdeep," Nelsyn continued, trying her best not to move her lips while Sara applied a fresh coat of pink stain. "She probably just wants to see how it gets received. She doesn't really get to just sit out there and watch, you know?"

"Yeah."

"Could be it," Sara told them both, bunching her eyebrows and concentrating on keeping her hand steady. "Part of it, anyway. That is her favorite character out there, singing his heart out about the bomb in his chest."

"Her favorite character? The wizard?"

"Someone else got a bomb?"

"Please. Everyone knows I'm her favorite character."

"Listen," she replied as she wiped the applicator clean with a kerchief, "you're a good looking kid, and no one hates watching you take your clothes off out there." Nelsyn snorted, but they both ignored her. "A healthy percentage of ticket sales is probably yours, no one's arguing that. But that's not enough for you to game the win."

"Game the w- what?" Jory laughed, his oiled obliques glistening as he pulled the bear pelt back over his shoulders. "Look, I'm not trying to make it a competition or anything, okay? You brought it up. But I literally play an archdruid who carves ducks, sings to squirrels, and adopts orphans. Plus? He looks like this." He swept his hands grandly over his abdomen, flexing muscles most people had only seen in paintings or medical textbooks. "And did I mention he's also her boyfriend?"

"Her ex-boyfriend," Sara corrected him, pointing at Nelsyn as she spoke. "Have you even listened to the song she's getting ready to sing? You know. The one about love? And sacrifice?" She shifted her weight as an intern sidled past her to tidy the table, refill their drinks, and bag up the trash. "And don't tell me you haven't looked at Erik with both of your eyeballs. We've all seen him. The man has eyelashes as long as your forearm. And the biggest, saddest, wettest brown eyes on the face of this planet. He's like a baby cow, okay? I'm just saying." She stood to let the intern past her again, and bent to drag her cosmetics case out of the way. "This is the man she cast to play the lead in the big romantic climax of the whole show. When the main character realizes she's in love and it's too late. She's managed to capture," she pinched her fingers in front of her face, "the very essence of what it means to have sad children mooning over this show for years to come, okay? The baby cow is a cash cow. And he is clearly her favorite character."

"I think the vampire is her favorite character," the intern said, unprompted, as she reached to help Nelsyn out of her seat. "He's everyone's favorite character."

"You're all wrong," Nelsyn told them as she sloughed her way out of her robe with great theatrical flair. The intern caught it before it hit the floor, just as she'd done so many times before. Nelsyn stood with her hands on her hips and a gallant curve to her tail, casting her eyes toward the rafters and beaming a heavily pink-stained smile, resplendent in her artificially distressed leather armor blotted with thick fake blood.

"I'm her favorite character," she said, glowing with certainty. "And it should be obvious. I'm her! Now, stand back and watch while I go make a bunch of little girls cry!" And with that, she grinned devilishly and pranced toward the stage.

But once she was gone, the intern leaned forward and beckoned. Jory found himself instinctually drawn to listen.

"Well, you wanna know what I heard?" she whispered, and her eyes landed on Shayla for only just a moment. Jory nodded out of reflex. "I heard a rumor that someone in the orchestra pit overheard the boss lady telling someone in the box office that there was going to be a special guest tonight."

"What. Like, family?" Jory asked. "I thought she was an orphan."

"Could be anyone," Sara answered him from where she stood, combing through a wig hanging on the wall. "Philanthropist, politician. Who knows.

"Or," the intern hissed, leaning in even closer, "it could be one of them."

"One of who?"

"You know. Them. Thems what was with her, when all this went down."

"Like… like one of the actual…?"

"Don't you two have anything better to do than -"

"Wait. We're in Waterdeep," Jory breathed. He snatched up Nelsyn's script and started thumbing through it, fanning the pages and blowing a strand of hair across his nose. "Isn't… isn't the wizard…?"

Sara dropped her comb to her side and opened her mouth, but stopped and blinked at him instead. A thoughtful look crept across her face. She nodded her head in defeat.

"The wizard's from Waterdeep."

Then, as one, they all turned to look at Shayla where she stood at stage right, still as a statue.

And the music began to swell. The strings stirred the air with sounds as soft and sweet as sunset. The woodwinds sang a shrill crescendo as Erik began to make his famous climb.

And Nelsyn began to sing her famous song.

Before she disappeared beyond the narrow view from stage right, Jory watched her as she raised her arm to reach for him.

The wizard.

And her voice rang out so high and so clear, so heavy with every loss that Shayla Moonsong had ever suffered, with every plea that ever twisted her heart in bitter knots. With every word that ever fell from the mighty pen of their beloved playwright.

Who stood now with her hand at her throat. It bobbed once when she swallowed. Her lips parted and she drew a breath, and a hush fell over the crowd. She settled in to listen with the rest of them.

And her tail flicked once more to the left.

I know I've been unkind to you And I've pushed you way too far And I know in ignorance I forced you To reveal the man you are And I know I've left you with nothing to lose And even less to gain And though I know you owe me nothing Please don't give in to pain

Erik's silhouette was emblazoned across the long, velvet curtain hanging behind the hideously decorated staircase he was climbing. His movements were eery and real, despite their paltry attempts to pantomime a grisly memory that none of them had ever lived. Each step was measured and dreamlike and perfect, like a person caught in a trance or a dead man called home to his rest by a spectral light.

Or in this case, a massive papier mache facsimile of a netherbrain hung from a scaffold over the stage.

Please, Please don't do this I'm begging you not to go Please, Please don't do this There's something you need to know What can I do to make you wait Convince a goddess to change your fate Please tell me that it's not too late There's something I didn't say…

"It can't be him, though. Can it?" Jory asked. "Didn't he, like," he pointed a finger toward the stage, "explode?"

"Oh, no. It's just a story, mate," came a voice from behind them. It was Velanthyr, the elf who played Astarion. They rounded the table and perched themself on the corner, placing their white wig beside them as they took a bite from an apple. "She's embellished tons of stuff. For emotional impact. They all do it."

I should have loved you since I met you I should have loved you all along

"That bard she played? In the first act?"

"Yeah?"

"She ain't really dead either."

"Seriously?"

I should have told you that I love you Instead of hiding behind a song

"My cousin met her. Said he saw her play someplace they had dinner."

"No shit?"

"It's true. She teaches music in Baldur's Gate."

Is there nothing left that I can do But fall to my knees and pray

"So what's with her, anyway?" Velanthyr asked, pointing their apple at Shayla while they wiped the juice from their lips with their other hand.

The tip of her tail flicked again, and slowly she wrapped her arms around her middle.

To any god or any devil Who'd keep you from walking away

"She's been acting weird all night," they said.

"S'what we were just talking about."

Please, Please don't do this! Turn around! This isn't right!

"We think the wizard might be out there," the intern told them. "The real one."

"Oh no," the elf laughed.

Please, Please don't do this! Please, I'm begging you to fight!

"Hope he has a sense of humor. It's about to get weird!"

"Weird?!" Sara growled at them, flinging her comb about.

Forget your fickle god's desire I'd cross the oceans, I'd walk through fire I'd conquer all the Hells entire For you And yes, I know you're tired

"The man is getting ready to watch himself die! And I'm sure I don't need to remind you his death is self-inflicted! If there's a chance that any of this is real? That the trauma this man survived is on display? You all need to show a little respect." She shook her head and turned back to her wig. "Shut up and let her listen."

Sara's words may have stung him, but Jory knew she was right. So he obeyed her, and he listened. And for the first time he truly heard the fragile warble of desperate heartache that Nelsyn had worked so hard to craft through her voice.

Come back to me and take your rest Indulge one overdue caress I'll steal the sorrow from your chest And confess, I will confess

But he didn't just uncover a new appreciation for his friend and her level of skill. There was more to it than that. There was a depth to this scene that he'd been missing before now.

There was a meaning. One that wasn't meant for the whole world.

It was only meant for one man.

He could sense it in the vibrant tension bound between Shayla Moonsong's shoulder blades.

And then Nelsyn grew quiet. Everything got quiet. The music made a subtle shift to something low and dulcet, but tense, like a string pulled too tight without snapping. Jory found his feet had led him to stand at Shayla's shoulder. He could hear her breathing through her teeth and he felt compelled to reach out and take her hand.

She took hold of it like a lifeline.

You're everything to me and more You're all that I've been fighting for You're more than just an end to war…

Nelsyn paused after that last note. It was important to the narrative, it was the whole point behind the wizard's story. But her longing would go deliciously unrequited, and would inspire a veritable deluge of creativity from fandom communities everywhere.

Shayla squeezed Jory's hand, squeezed her eyelids firmly shut. She held her breath and Jory could see Erik had reached the top of the rise. There he stood, a straight, unyielding figure gazing off into the liminal distance, resolute.

And he would never turn around.

It wouldn't be long. Any moment.

Nelsyn sang her penultimate line.

And I would give my life for yours…

She held the word so long it nearly sank into Jory's skin. It sent a wave goosebumps to crest over every inch of his body. The orchestra wove their way through their final, sweeping refrain, and the conductor brought them to a close on a plaintive harmony between a flute and an oboe.

And then the light collapsed.

It shrank to a small, pale circle that drew its stark and shining focus on a razor-slim shadow cast against the curtain.

In the shape of a dagger.

Erik lifted it high and turned its point toward his heart.

"Gods preserve me," Shayla mumbled to herself. It was the only sound Jory could hear aside from the sniffs and sniffles of the audience. Collectively they teetered at the edges of their seats, enthralled by a beautiful, mournful man who was counting the final seconds of his life with undaunted stoicism and courage.

Nelsyn could've whispered her final line if she wanted to, but instead it burst from her as a scream.

"Don't do this!!!"

Jory felt it thrum like a shockwave within his own chest, and beside him Shayla flinched. She squeezed his hand even harder.

"Just tell me when it's over," she said to him. And then suddenly there was a flurry of activity.

He took a step back and yanked her away from the door when a small flock of technicians flew in to crowd the space they left behind.

Up high, far in the corner, Jory saw the dagger move against the curtain. And all of the good people of Waterdeep gasped when they watched the blade meet its mark.

"Fire in the hole," a technician murmured beside him, and the spotlight on the curtain went black.

Then a pair of spells were cast that bathed the audience in a blinding aurora. It blazed with ribbons of vivid blues and purples and greens, speckled with myriad glittering white stars.

And an arrow of roaring thunder was launched far overhead. It detonated with such a resounding boom that it shook everything, even the floor boards beneath Jory's feet. It rattled seats and drinking vessels, it toppled music stands, and it made Erik's staircase sway alarmingly as it was wheeled backstage, with him still riding precariously at its top.

Shayla Moonsong's face fell into her hands.

"Go on," Erik sang as he danced his way down the stairs. "Tell me how devastating I was. Don't hold back. Tell me everything."

"You were spectacular, my love!" Velanthyr assured him as they ran to greet him, cradling his face in their hands and kissing him sweetly. "You always are."

"Were they weeping?" he asked his lover, nuzzling their face with his own. "The lights are so bright, I can never see."

"They were drowning in their tears, darling. Drowning."

"Is everything alright?" Sara asked as she approached on her tiptoes, reaching for Shayla's arm. Velanthyr's wig drooped at her side, forgotten. "What can I do?"

"I can't even look," Shayla whimpered through the palms that smothered her face.

"Oh honey," Sara cooed as she pulled the woman closer. And in a blessed act of mercy, she asked the question that no one wanted to ask, but someone needed to. Long before now, before this critical point had been breached.

"He's out there, isn't he?"

"I think I've made a huge mistake." Shayla slid her fingertips down to press against her lips, unable to form any other words. She could only shake her head, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Do you want us to look? See if we can see him?"

"I don't think I wanna know."

"Where is he seated?"

"E6."

"Oh." Sara briefly grimaced at Jory, but didn't stop rubbing circles across Shayla's back. "Front and center. Of course."

"Yep." The way her lips popped at the end of the word only served to emphasize how mortified she was. "Wouldn't want him to miss anything."

"Well, of course not. He's your guest," Sara replied, jerking her chin in a way that suggested Jory had been volunteered for reconnaissance.

"Oh gods!" Shayla raked her claws past her horns to twist them into her hair. "I even told him he could invite his mother!"

"Well that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do, one would think."

Jory understood his assignment. He sauntered away but paused at the door frame. The show wasn't over yet. When the technicians finished collecting their gear, they scrambled off to safely stow their rockets and retrieve the set pieces for the final scenes. They were dragging the staircase away from the main thoroughfare when Corinne, the woman who played the narrator, whipped past them.

"Coming through," she chimed, racing out to center stage, taking her place before the curtains could rise once more. Her final soliloquy would lead them into the epilogue, and would give Jory the opportunity he needed to cast his eyes past the orchestra pit and across the section of seats that lie beyond.

Front and center.

He would only have a minute or two. Sara would need to replace Velanthyr's wig. Erik needed a drink and Nelsyn's makeup needed a touch up. Very soon they would be on stage, the lights burning holes through their retinas, leaving them blinded and oblivious to all but each other and the saga they would spin to its end. He reached up to buckle the clasp on the bear pelt that draped across his shoulders.

For now, it was the narrator's turn. But he was ready. And then the curtains rose.

He smashed his face against the door frame like a cat burglar. A shaft of light swung down upon the stage illuminating Corinne at its center, and Jory peered out into the darkness it left in its wake. He squinted until he found the end of the section behind the orchestra pit, and he started counting backwards from there.

But seat E6 was empty.

Certain he'd made a mistake, he counted back again to double check, to be extra sure.

But he was right the first time.

"It's empty," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"What?" Shayla cried as she spun to face him.

"Yeah," he told her. "I counted twice to make sure I had the right seat, but no one's in it."

"Oh gods." She began to pace, wringing her hands. "What about the one next to it?"

"Which side?"

"Just tell me if you see an older woman."

"Umm, okay." At first he wasn't certain. There was a child on the right side, but on the left was a person who'd stood up, and was bent with their back toward him, like they were reaching for something. "I think… maybe. Yeah. I think so. It looks like she's getting up. She's picking up a bag or something. Is that a cat?"

"Tara?"

"Who brings a cat to a -"

"She's not a cat. She's a tressym."

"What the hell is a tress- holy shit, it's got wings! It just flew over - oh! Oh, I think I see him!"

"Where!"

The tressym sailed through the air to float beside a tall, slender man who was moving quickly up the aisle toward the exit. He wasn't running, out of proper respect for social decorum, but he had the energy of a man who wished he was. His shoulders were hitched up near his ears and he was stifling his mouth with the back of one hand.

And a shiver ran down Jory's spine.

This was the guy. The wizard. The real one.

Gale Dekarios, of Waterdeep.

In the flesh. Right there.

From what little Jory could see, the play had done him justice. He was a very handsome man, lithe and lean, long-legged with a powerful stride, and every bit as comely as Erik had depicted him to be.

Yet it was hard to imagine, through simple sight alone, that this was a man who had once been the Chosen of a god. Or that this was a man who had once vanquished the avatar of Death itself. A man who had put an end to the Cult of the Absolute.

A man who had once made his own decision about whether or not to plunge a dagger into his heart.

But it was easy to see why Shayla would want to stop him. This man clearly meant something to her.

He didn't know what providence deemed it necessary for him to ask. It certainly wasn't any of his business. But the question tumbled out of his mouth, unbidden. Perhaps the gods themselves just wanted to hear someone finally say it out loud.

"Does he know how you feel about him?"

Shayla slumped and let her hands fall limp to her sides. She pulled her lip into her mouth, and her eyes swam with visions of regret. "No," she whispered to him. "It was never the right time."

Oh, how irony could be so cruel.

"You should go after him, then," he told her. "Go quick. If you hurry, you can catch him before he gets to the front door."

"Shit!" she snarled and for a moment, Jory was afraid she'd scurry across the stage in the middle of Corinne's long and emotional speech. There was a wild streak in him that almost hoped she would. But instead, she bolted through the loading bay doors and flung herself outside, presumably to tear down the alley between the theater and the wine cellar to run around the building toward the front.

Nelsyn wandered over to them, sipping cold water from her mug and watching over her shoulder as the loading bay doors swung back and forth on their hinges.

"Jory," she stated flatly. "What did you do."

"What?!" he cried. Sara could only double over and laugh at him. "I didn't do anything!"

"Somebody did something," she said, eyeing the doors skeptically. "And it looks a lot like it was you."

"I'm serious! She asked if we could see him, and I told her yes. That's all."

"See who?"

"The wizard!"

"What wizard? You mean, like… Erik?"

"No!" He stuck out both hands and shook them. "The actual wizard! The real one, from Waterdeep! Yes, he's still alive! No, he didn't explode!"

"Well, everybody knows that…"

"She wanted to know where he was, so I told her, and then she ran out the door."

"Wait. So he was actually here tonight?"

"Jory," Sara accused him, still smiling pitifully at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not all you said to her."

"But I didn't -"

"You asked her a pretty personal question."

"Where was he sitting?" Nelsyn continued as she took another drink and leered at him over the rim over her mug.

"E6."

"Wow. Front and center."

"Yeah. She didn't want him to miss anything."

"So what did you ask her?"

Jory could only roll his eyes and sigh. None of them had time for this. He dropped his head and pinched his brow between his thumb and his forefinger but when he looked up, he found all eyes were on him. Even Erik and Velanthyr had paused their conversation long enough to turn around and stare. The technicians in the back tried to appear as if they weren't listening, but everyone knew they were. Suddenly, he could feel the heat that was trapped beneath the heavy mantle of his bear pelt.

"I asked her if he knew how she felt about him."

"What do you mean, how she felt…" And through the window of her eyes he could see her mentally calculating every single word she'd just sung. Right in front of the very man it was all intended for. Seated front and center, missing nothing. Her eyes flickered like golden flames.

"Holy shit," she breathed. "Like… feelings? Real ones? What did she say?"

He didn't get to answer. Just then, raucous applause erupted from behind them. The thunderous retort of clapping hands and cheers drowned all other sound, and signaled to them all that their time was up. Corinne came skipping backstage as the curtains fell behind her.

"And that's a wrap for me! Slam and a dunk! Go get 'em while they're - what's going on?"

"The wizard was here tonight," Nelsyn answered her without breaking her eye contact with Jory. "The real one. Shayla is in love with him. What did she sayyy?"

"No," he told her, holding very still while Sara dabbed a powder puff over his face. "She said no. He doesn't know."

"Are you serious?" Corinne gasped, pressing a hand to her heart.

"Well he does now," Sara chuckled, wriggling her eyebrows as she dropped the powder back into her cosmetics case. "I hope she caught him before he got away. He deserves an explanation."

And all around them, activity buzzed. Scenic backdrops rolled by, the intern fussed with Velanthyr's wig on her tiptoes, Sara dug frantically around searching for her lip stain, and the other actors began lining up to take their places. But in spite of the jubilant bustle of life happening all around them, Nelsyn could only stand with her mug in her hands, awestruck by the revelation they'd just been given.

"Sweet tapdancing Asmodeus," she laughed, shaking her head with her eyes transfixed on some far away place. "You mean to tell me that this whole time," she jostled the water in her mug when she bellowed, "THIS WHOLE TIME?! This whole play has been just a great big love letter to some… man?! For months?! And he only just heard it? Tonight? For the first time?"

"I think that about sums it up, yep," Sara told her, taking the mug from her hands.

"That's genius!" She shuffled to her place in line, utterly befuddled, her eyes glassy and glazed. "They're star-crossed, it's perfect! I wish this would've happened months ago! Just you wait, you'll see. When all the little fan fic authors out there find out about this? They are gonna go berserk! People everywhere will pay money for a vial of our sweat! The contents of our chamber pots - we'll be famous!

"Gods have mercy on us all. There might even be a sequel. We'll be touring this show til the day we die!"

************************************************************************

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tav x gale #gale x tav #galemance #bg3 fic #bg3 gale fic #bg3 fan fiction #bg3 gale fan fiction

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mooshywrites · 4 months

Text

Mage Hand

Fem!Reader x Gale

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - This one is a lil more adventurous than my last. I’m getting more confident with my writing, so… expect degeneracy.

Word count - 3.2K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, established relationship (Gale proposal route), Vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, exhibition, spell sex??, creampie, biting, Unprotected sex, dirty talk, hidden sex, public-ish sex, typical Gale corniness

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“You might want to dampen those pretty little moans unless you want someone else to hear.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“How is this next bookshop going to be anything different than the last ten we’ve been to?” You whined, trudging after the brown haired wizard.

Gale had dragged you across the entire town, popping shop to shop to find more spell books. You tried your best not to be annoyed, but this was supposed to be your week.

”Last one, sweetest, promise!” He called back, not even turning to face you as he continued down the street.

”You owe me.” You grumbled. This is the last time you let Gale plan a date. Who would think that leaving just one day of your honeymoon to him would end with the two of you searching every street for anyone who had even so much as a picture book on spells.

Thankfully, this next shop had to be the last book store in the town. Hopefully, at least.

Gale walked through the doors of the building, a rather rundown sort of place. Vines ran their way in and out of the cracked wood siding, ending in blooms of tiny purple flowers. You might have even found the place adorable if it didn’t smell like mildew and unaccomplished sorcerers.

“Welcome to Lichen, Lizards, and Library!” A voice yelled out further in the room. You had to squint to see them, the “library” being much darker inside than the bright and bustling street beyond.

The voice belonged to a tiny dragonborn woman, much of her height hunched over a gnarled cane. You suddenly felt bad about your previous opinions of the place. By the way the elderly she-dragon hobbled towards you, you doubted the woman could stack more than a couple of books, much less manage the upkeep of the shop.

“Good day to you, m’lady.” Gale replied warmly, taking a step further into the ill-lit interior. “You wouldn’t happen to have any spell books for sale, would you, madam?”

“Spell books!” The she-dragon chucked, nodding her head. “We’ve got all the beginner books you could manage between the two of you! Last shelf on the right, dearie.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the woman. Customers probably came back to this shop time and time again just to see this grandmotherly Dragonborn.

”Well, you see…” Gale sighed, gesturing towards himself. ”I’m not exactly a beginner. Do you happen to have anything with a greater difficulty?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

The dragonborn narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the man.

”Wizard?” She prodded.

”Y-yes, in fact, I am.”

”How good are you?”

Gale scoffed, clearly taken aback by this line of interrogation, “Good enough to defeat an Elder Brain!”

The elderly woman narrowed her eyes even further. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had demanded the wizard cast ’wish’ just to prove it to her.

She finally nodded, her decision apparently made. “Follow me, then.”

You gave Gale a confused look, the man only answering with a shrug as he followed the she-dragon.

”I don’t usually show customers our more unusual books, but it seems like you’re up for the challenge.” The shopkeeper called over her shoulder.

The both of you followed as she hobbled her way to a door at the end of the room. You passed by shelves filled with all sorts of oddities, stacked with books, various skulls and jars. It was almost eerie, this little woman’s collection.

She opened the door, holding her hand out in invitation, “If you need anything, I’ll be in front. Yell loud, the old ears aren’t what they used to be.”

“Thank you.” You smiled politely, stepping into the smaller room with Gale, the door swinging shut softly.

This room was much more well-kept than the shop outside of it. The shelves were free of dust, books organized neatly by letter. You couldn’t help but marvel as your hand trailed over the spine of a crimson red book. It had to be expensive, the lettering of the title glinting a beautiful gold.

“This place is incredible.” Gale murmured, his eyes trailing over the shelves before throwing a smile your way. “Told you the last one would be the one.”

You rolled your eyes, pressing your lips into a tight line.

“Oh, not the silent treatment, darling.” He chided, pulling you closer to him. “What could I have done to deserve the lonely absence of your voice?”

“Maybe dragging me through town looking at shops during our honeymoon?” You scoffed. “Looking for spell books of all things! What else could you possibly learn?”

You bit back your tone, seeing how his expression immediately faltered.

“You’re right, in truth, I didn’t really think it would take all day to find a shop with books that had more in them than… well… firebolt.” He smiled.

You couldn’t help but relax your glare, knowing he didn’t truly waste the day on purpose.

“Fine. Then I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.” You grinned.

”You must be careful with such threats, darling. It is our honeymoon after all. Wouldn’t want to get a man’s hopes soaring.” He teased, kissing your nose. “But yes, I will make it up to you at my earliest convenience”

You sighed with a nod, stepping back out of his arms. “Go ahead then.” You gave in, shooing him towards the bookshelves.

You turned your attention back to the red book, pulling out to leaf through idly. “What do you even think you’ll find in these?”

“Who knows.” He responded. “There’s not many spells I don’t have at least an idea of. But these books may have new ones. Or even advanced versions of spells I already can do.”

“Like what?” You questioned, reading further into the book. Apparently, this one was about a more practical way to summon a mephit.

“Like here,” He said, pointing to his own book. “Advanced Mage Hand. Instead of only lasting for a minute, this one lasts for ten.”

You were barely registering the words, engrossed in the science behind the summoning magic written in the pages before you. “Why would you need Mage Hand for ten minutes?” You asked, distractedly.

“Guess you would have to use your imagination. Endless possibilities.” Gale replied.

“Uh-huh.” You murmured, not really listening to your wizard. This book was just too fascinating. Who knew there was so much more knowledge out there about the construction and anatomy of a mephit?

It took Gale murmuring under his breath in a strange language to grab your attention.

“What was that?” You asked, your gaze flitting up to him.

He looked back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What was ‘what’?”

“Oh, I thought you said something.” You shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book.

You were a couple more sentences in, comfortable silence falling over the room when you felt something on your ankle.

You couldn’t even begin to guess whatever it was that had touched you. It was feather light and cool, barely whispering over your skin. There one moment and gone within the split of another.

You looked down, trying to see what had brushed over you, only to see absolutely nothing.

Strange, must have been a breeze. There were many cracks in the walls I saw on the outside, you thought to yourself.

That is, until the cool touch grazed against your knee.

You froze, your skin erupting in goosebumps. You looked back towards Gale, questioningly, only to see him seemingly engrossed in the book he was reading. Your eyebrows furrowed, looking back to your legs.

No, still nothing there. Am I crazy? Have I been cursed?

The touch rose further, icy invisible fingertips racing along your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, a slight sense of panic rising in your chest.

Gale cleared his throat casually beside you, your attention shooting up to him again. At first glance, he was being completely normal, but at closer inspection, you saw the way his ears flushed a barely perceptible pink.

Aha!

“It’s you!” You whisper shouted, pointing at him accusingly.

He faced you, eyebrows raised. “What are you talking about?”

As he spoke, the ghostly touch rose higher, much too close to your center than you cared to focus on.

”Play as innocent as you want.” You seethed, your cheeks beginning to heat. “Something is touching me, and it better be you.”

Gale couldn’t keep up the act, finally giving you a sly smile. “I wanted to see how useful this advanced Mage Hand really is.”

You gasped softly as the touch became firmer, pressing a single spectral finger against your clothed cunt.

“I couldn’t see it.” You managed to say, trying to hold on to at least a bit of dignity. In truth, you couldn’t deny that the feeling was… interesting.

”Another feature of its advancement.” Gale smiled, keeping his eyes trained on yours.

Another finger pressed against you, adding a delicious sense of pressure to your heat. You should’ve been embarrassed of how much you enjoyed this touch, how it made your mind cloud with lust. The fingers shifted slightly, barely brushing against your clit.

You covered your mouth quickly to suppress a whine, trying your best to give Gale a half-hearted glare. “Stop that. Someone will hear.”

Gale took a step closer, tilting your chin up with his hand. “Who? The she-dragon? As long as you aren’t too loud, the old bat won’t hear a thing.” He murmured, his gaze trailing down to your lips.

You couldn’t even give him a response, the mage hand shifting to part your panties to the side.

God’s above.

The touch was even more incredible now that there wasn’t fabric between you. A finger ran feather-light over your folds, spreading your wetness almost painfully slow. You let out a strained whimper, craving more friction than it gave you.

Gale closed the distance between you, pulling you flush against his chest. His hand pulled your chin up to him, swallowing your moan with his lips. You melted against his touch, rocking your hips slightly against the Mage Hand.

Gale chucked slightly, his other hand resting on the curve of your back. “So eager.” He whispered, parting from your kiss only just.

The fingers spread apart the petals of your flower, rubbing wide circles around your entrance, tracing figure eights everywhere but where you needed it.

“Please, Gale.” You choked out, eyes scrunching shut in desperation.

“Please what, dearest?” He responded, his voice low and teasing.

“Please, just touch me!” You said louder, pressing your hips against him, opening your eyes to beg with even your gaze.

He pressed a finger over your lips, warning you to control your volume. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown out with need. His lips were ever so slightly puffy, swollen with the heat of your earlier kiss.

She-dragon be damned, all you wanted was to hear a moan fall from those plump lips.

The spectral hand finally gave you what you wanted, dipping into your cunt slowly. You sighed in relief, letting your forehead fall to rest on Gale’s chest. What you imagined was the ghostly hand’s thumb traced small circles around your clit, a single finger pushing in and out of your sex.

You couldn’t help letting out another soft moan as another finger joined the first, thankfully the sound being muffled by Gale’s hand.

“Shhht.” Gale tutted quietly, his voice raspy in your ear. His hand moved from the small of your back, coming up to cup your breast. “You might want to dampen those pretty little moans unless you want someone to hear.”

You bit your lip, putting all of your focus into being quiet. What a losing battle you were fighting, however, Gale’s hand beginning to knead the soft flesh under it. Your nipple hardened under his touch, pushing through the fabric of your shirt. Gale smiled devilishly, fingertips grazing over the nub.

“If I had only known such magic existed before our honeymoon started.” He murmured. “We never would have left the inn.”

You bit back a moan as the fingers started pumping faster, arousal coiling tighter in your lower belly. Your legs began to feel heavy, your arms clutching at Gale for balance. The molten fire in your veins grew hotter and hotter, your muffled moans whispering out closer together. You were right on the edge, you knew your orgasm was close.

Suddenly, the touch disappeared.

You whined angrily, your eyes coming up to glare at Gale. He wasn’t usually one for orgasm denial.

Gale only chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your lips. “Apparently, ten minutes seemed to have been a bit of a stretch.”

You looked away, pouting. “Or maybe you lost concentration.”

Gale leaned in, kissing the shell of your ear before his teeth grazed against the skin gently. “Shall I replace the absence?” He nipped.

You nodded, not trusting your traitor mouth to answer with anything other than a shameful moan and string of begging words.

With a slight rustling of your heavy skirt, Gale cupped his hand against your sex. You whimpered a breathless moan, His middle finger delving between your folds.

He groaned in your ear, raising goosebumps along your arms. “So wet for me already, my love.”

You couldn’t respond, your hips having a mind of their own as they pressed further against his touch. You needed more. More pressure, more friction, more him.

“I can’t.” You whimpered, your legs felt as if they may give out at any moment.

Gale seemed to know exactly what you needed, hands hooking below your ass to pick you up. You couldn’t help but notice the hard length that pressed against your stomach as he carried you to the table in the corner. You ground against his cock helplessly, much too… well… much separating the two of you for your liking.

Gale let out a strained moan at your movements, setting you on the rough wood as softly as possible. It took mere moments for the two of you to remove those pesky barriers, Gale unlacing his trousers and you hiking up your dress. Your underwear were all but ruined, your cunt practically dripping with arousal.

Gale pulled you into a kiss, his member finally free against your soaked core. Moans mingled between both of your lips, Gale grinding against you in slow controlled thrusts.

You pulled away slightly, looking into his eyes. His tousled hair and lust crazed gaze almost had you coming on the spot.

“Gale” You whispered softly, pushing your fingertips through his soft brown locks. “I need you.”

”Your wish is my command.” He chuckled darkly, pushing his length inside you.

His hand shot over your mouth, anticipating the moan that ripped from your throat. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

“By Mystra’s Light.” He strained out, grinding deeper against you. “You’re so tight around me.”

You cunt clenched at his words, earning another groan from his parted lips. You knew you wouldn't last long. Especially not after being deprived of your orgasm earlier. Even now, you felt the desire burning red hot in your lower stomach, the tightness in your muscles.

“Gale I-“ You whispered, voice desperate.

“Shht, dearest, I know.” He assured, beginning to push short, shallow thrusts within you.

“More!” You whined into his hand, nails digging softly into the man’s scalp. “Gods above, just fuck me!”

That’s all it took to snap the cord in Gale.

He thrusted into you savagely, heavy breaths panting in your ear. His spare hand held your hips close, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze was passionate, communicating all the words you weren’t able to say through his palm. You might’ve been worried about the shopkeeper hearing the raw wet sounds of Gale thrusting to the hilt, but the delicious stretch of his cock inside of you had you distracted from such trivial things.

It didn’t take but moments for the spring to pull tight in your mind, pleasure pulling you to the brink of snapping. Gale seemed to be close to the same, his brows furrowing and his grasp on your hips becoming tighter.

“Darling, ‘M close.” He warned, his voice worn and teeth gritted tight.

All you could do was moan into his touch, your heat clenching helplessly around him. His thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming deeper and desperate.

You felt a shiver before the world went white, every muscle in your body tightening as your orgasm hit you. Every nerve felt as if it were kissed by fire, all sound drowning out to the background. Your pleasure only intensified as you felt Gale’s warmth flood into you. He clutched you close as you both worked your way through your highs, Gale’s hips grinding raggedly.

When both of you had returned to the world of the living, Gale let out a chuckle. “Say what you will, but I’m glad I dragged you through every bookstore in this town. It ended quite well for me.”

You scoffed, feigning annoyance as you hit his chest softly. “You just wanted to bed me in a bookstore. Admit it.”

He held his hands up, pulling away from you with a groan, “You’re right. Guilty as charged.” He teased. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, ever so gently cleaning the two of you off.

“Well, I suppose we should find our way back to the Inn. Few more spells in here I have theories for.” He smiled, helping you off the table.

You blushed, smoothing out your dress, hoping no one would correctly assume why it had been wrinkled. “We better go pay for it then.” You quipped.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, Gale carrying your new find. Thankfully, the elderly dragonborn didn’t seem as if she knew what had happened in the back room of her own shop. She was perched upon a stool behind a desk, snoring loudly. It gave you some comfort. If you couldn’t hear the snoring from the other room… then hopefully…

“Ahem.” Gale cleared his throat as you approached the desk. “We’d like to purchase this one.

The Dragonborn awoke with a snort, smacking her lips together after a yawn. “Well let me see here.” She replied, taking the book.

She raised her eyebrows, nodding approvingly as she read the title. “A good find.”

Gale brought out his coin purse, paying for the book as the she-dragon and wizard made idle conversation. Your mind wandered to whatever other spells could be in the book. If one single entry could end this well…

The she-dragon took the coin happily, giving the book to Gale with a wave. You smiled at the woman, saying a soft goodbye as you began to exit the shop with your wizard love.

”Akra!” The woman croaked out, just as you had just almost passed through the doorway. Gale looked questioningly back at the woman.

“Uh, I’m sorry, madam. What was that?” He called out.

“It’s my name.” The elderly she-dragon yelled back, grinning from ear to ear. “The name you can call your little one in nine months!”

Your cheeks went beet red as Gale laughed out an awkward goodbye.

“Be sure to visit Lichen, Lizard, and Library again!”

You swatted at Gale’s arm, the man practically snorting back laughter as you made your way further into the streets. Not even the fires of Avernus could burn brighter than your flushed cheeks in this moment.

“Tomorrow, you’re staying in the Inn while I go to town.” You seethed, not even able to look at the wizard.

All gale did was chuckle back in response, taking your hand in his.

“I question the wisdom of that decision.”

#bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #gale x you #gale x tav #gale smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 x reader #tav x gale #gale x reader smut #this one is a wild one folks

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