#bloodweave discussion

[dreamingofthewild]

I was thinking about the ways in which Astarion & Gale are mirrors to each other.

They both rely on the protagonist. Gale needs help feeding magic to the orb whilst Astarion needs to feed on blood. Both conditions can potentially cause harm to the player character.

Speaking of the protagonist, they are both desperate to gain the trust of the player character and use their respective skills to do so. Whereas Gale tries to make himself useful by using his intelligence and being of service, Astarion attempts to seduce you. Because to the both of them that's the only way they know how.

They are both the only characters who approve of using the tadpoles power.

They are on opposing ends of the morality spectrum but have the potential for change. Gale's desperation to live can cause him to be manipulated into following an evil character. Whereas Astarion can be pushed towards the path of redemption by the way of a good player character who respects his boundaries, autonomy, and doesn't play into doing everything Act 1 Astarion approves of.

They both have scars which are directly related to their abuse.

Both hide their true selves at first. Gale masks his desperation, self-loathing, and past mistakes with polite charm. Astarion uses arrogance and wit to hide his fear and past trauma.

They are both witty and capable of blunt, even cruel, honesty when needed. Gale's is demonstrated more in an evil playthrough. I see it that he always acts as the voice of reason in most cases.

Gale worships a Goddess whereas Astarion was abandoned by all the gods.

Both of their abuse involves coitus in some way. Astarion being forced to use his body to lure victims. Gale, although it is not explicitly stated in the game, intimately worshipped Mystra.

Despite their outward appearances of confidence, both Gale and Astarion harbour deep-seated insecurities and vulnerabilities. They both think that they are not worthy of being loved.

Astarion does not know how to love and Gale only loves deeply.

Gale finds beauty in everything. He is an emotional, highly empathetic, and self-sacrificing person. In contrast to Astarion, who has learnt that empathy and kindness only bring more pain. Who has learnt to give up on kindness and hero's. He thinks the world is a cruel, dark, and unforgiving place. Whereas Gale thinks the world is full of magic.

Gale's unending empathy and moral compass could serve as a stabilizing influence on Astarion's more selfish and morally ambiguous tendencies. Conversely, Astarion's pragmatism and survival instincts could help ground Gale's idealism and prevent him from being too naive or trusting. Their contrasting strengths and weaknesses could complement each other, allowing them to support and uplift one another.

I think they can understand each other and see each other in a way that the other companions can't. Even if they do not end up in a relationship, they are best friends at best.

In a romantic relationship, Gale is a slow burn. He does not care for lying, and I think he sees right through Astarion's theatrics in Act 1 because deep down, they are not unalike. This is why he does not fall for Astarion's attempts to flirt twice. Due to the fact that he was unable to successfully seduce Gale, Astarion acts slightly antagonistically towards him because he sees Gale as a potential threat. I couldn't seduce him. Therefore, why would he want to protect me?

However, Gale continues to protect Astarion anyway. From the Gur, from Araj, from their enemies. Not because he was seduced by Astarion, but because he is fundamentally a good person. Through Gale, he learns that there are truly good people out there.

Astarion is against Gale using the orb in Act 2. Through his brutal honesty, he would be the one to break all the holes in Gale's warped worship of Mystra. He would be the one to catch on and make him see their relationship for what it is and that the god's do not care for mortals. Chosen included. A romanced Astarion would not let Gale ascend to Godhood, especially after being denied ascension himself. And Gale is against Astarion ascending. I think Astarion would also be the only one to recognise it if Gale dissociates during a depressive episode. They both know what it is like to be isolated and condemned to death.

Gale, who would marry his love interest as a Mind Flayer, looks past Astarion's vampirism. He breaks down the walls that Astarion built around himself and gets through to the genuine Astarion. The tiny sliver that is still there desperately seeking redemption and tells him that he is worthy of being loved. He is worthy of a better future.

They do have the potential to draw into each others negative traits and make each other worse.  Astarion could push Gale to abandon his carefully maintained moral front, while Gale might try to drag Astarion towards a more empathetic path. And this all depends on the player choices.

The main difference is that Gale's conflicting motivations offer a more nuanced moral struggle for Astarion. While Wyll represents a clear oppositional force (good vs. evil), which can result in redemption or death, Gale straddles the line. His desperation and potential for greater darkness mirror Astarion's own complexities.

Gale and Wyll would be healing for each other and possibly better for each other than Astarion. However, it is the least popular of the three potential pairings.

Both of them are very compelling ships. Enemies to lovers, opposites attract, monster vs. monster hunter is a very popular tropes in fanfiction. The potential for one to act as a catalyst of change for the other, or to potentially destroy them (either in death or corruption) is more interesting to write about than a balanced couple who mirror how most relationships are in real life. Some of the most popular romances have drama (Romeo and Juliet, Pride and Prejudice, etc).

Astarion and Gale can be redemptive or corruptive. They can transform each other or be each others catalyst's for character development.

They compliment each other in other ways. Astarion needs to reacquaint himself with his body, which involves not having coitus in a while, whereas Gale sees the act as the combining of the body and soul, not just a means of release. Gale falls for what is inside a person, not what is on the outside. But at the same time, he is not the heroic type which Astarion has come to hate. Gale is also not like any of Astarion's victims.

I have read many fanfictions where they both, in character, make each other better. Their intense need for love, validation, and belonging working well together. They can be content with each other. Gale devoting everything to his lover and Astarion who never had anyone care about him before.

They are mirrors of each other, and this is why I like Bloodweave. It is not out of character for either one of them to fall in love with the other one. But it would take time. They are a slow burn. They're not perfect, but life is not all sunshine and roses. We communicate, we learn, and we get better.

To understand the ship, one has to believe that Astarion can be redeemed, albeit only through a good person. Gale is a very complex and forgiving person who chooses to see the good in everyone. Who holds other people tl standards, which he does not himself. They don't hate each other. But they understand each other.

This, to me, is why the ship is popular. Karlach & Wyll and Lae'zel & Shadowheart are also thematic parallels who are shipped together. The nature of fandom is to ship characters who have compelling romances, different dynamics, or maybe just because they like both characters. Each one is valid. However, in BG3, any pairing can be shipped together by nature of the fact that you can play as an origin character and romance another.

Ultimately, when you play the game you are in control of the narrative and how the romance between the character you are playing and your chosen romance partner goes. The companions are complex, flawed, broken, beaten, beautiful people and who are we to say that a character would not react in a certain way in a given situation.

I realise that I am rambling and have strayed off of the topic of Bloodweave specifically and on to ships in general. But I just wanted to explain why I like Bloodweave. I am a Galemancer, and I am not particularly attracted to Astarion, yet I ship him with Gale due to the aforementioned dynamics.

I also ship Gale with Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel. I think Astarion with Wyll or Karlach is also nice. And I like other ships in the fandom. But it is the sheer complexity and naunce of Bloodweave, which attracts me to it above all else.

#bg3 #bloodweave #This is just my opinion you are allowed to disagree with me #this post is positive please don’t take it the wrong way #I am for multi shipping #You are allowed to ship them or not ship them #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #astarion bg3 #dotw original #Ship: bloodweave #bg3 analysis #Bloodweave discussion

[tumbleweed-run]

Could Gale ever be Poly?

Situationally. Yes

Am I the person who wrote an entire post about Gale being a jealous (rightfully so) man? Yes.

But hear me out, in the aftermath of BG3, as long as we took everyone's "good" route. I could see him eventually agreeing to a 3rd. Not just any but very specifically Astarion. And while this is partially bloodweave brainrot I assure you I have considered it.

It wouldn't be easy for either of them, and realistically Tav. But Gale would start out as the main, Astarion and Tav are just BFFs. Astarion learning that love can be without strings.

They invite him to Waterdeep, away from the city and it's memories but also towards a potential Vampirism Cure/Day walking spell that doesn't involve becoming Cazador. Because Gale would be the most qualified to find that cure. And I bet his tower is easily traversed in the daylight hours without risk to Astarion.

It could just stop there, the three of them happy.

But we're discussing a triad.

I think the first crossroads towards romance would actually be Gale/Astarion. Astarion would still be himself and while his innuendo and flirting is generally accepted as just Who He Is and no one pays it mind. Maybe Gale off handedly agrees to whatever entendre that is proposed, as a challenge or just truly "yes I would agree to doing this dirty thing you've joked about." Astarion would be

at first. Mostly from shock but then he'd dwell on it. Tav and Gale aren't shy with touch, with each other or him. He's regularly hugged and cuddled, sometime's he's even the initiator. It's not uncommon for Gale to emerge from his study after hours to find them curled up on the same couch each immersed in their own thing.

Gale's probably the first one to be surprised by his own lack of jealousy when he happens upon the scene for the first time. But it just becomes the norm. And when Tav is off working on their own thing it eventually becomes common to find Gale and Astarion knee to knee in the study, each with excessively large tomes, leaning over one another because they're both working from BOTH books.

So that first time Gale is blatantly like "yeah lets do that" Astarion is struck by the fact that... he actually might want to. But he's reluctant because Tav's (and admittedly Gale's) friendship is unexpectedly more important that anything as fleeting as 'romance' or 'lust'.

But Tav is 200% on board when the conversation get brought up by Astarion (in the 'ahaha you wouldn't believe...' way). They love both these idiots, albeit in different ways, and wouldn't mind. Even if it was just Gale&Astarion.

But it would never be JUST those two because of how deeply both men care for Tav. Whatever they build to becomes normal. Maybe all three sleep in the same bed, Astarion position on the outside so he can sneak off when he's done resting. Maybe they just constantly find each other making overlapping decisions about future adventures or where to look for a rumored cure.

Part of the reason why this works is Gale and Astarion are not dissimilar. They face their trauma with different takes but it's deeply embedded in who they are and how they'll approach life forever more. While Gale is 100% willing to try and give Astarion more autonomy than he's ever dreamed of, believing that 'if you love something set it free' line. Astarion would spend a lot of time trying to get Gale to see and accept that while he made mistakes he was far from the villain in his story. Tav would spend most of that time trying to run around thwarting miscommunication and reigning in Astarion's god-killer urge despite also wanting very much to punch Mystra.

So while I think both men deserve to be 100% the center of someone's affections, I also believe they could eventually find a healthy trio dynamic.

(and also do whatever the faerun equivalent of an eiffel tower is to tav regularly)

#bg3 #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #bloodweave #kind of #bloodweave adjacent #bloodweave x tav #bg3 spoilers

[static-sulker]

I might maybe possibly be thinking of a modern fantasy apartment AU with the main crew. All of them being stupid ass magical roommates without tadpoles...Just letting them be happy.

Also my Tav is in there because...yeah. His name is Silk and he is such a silly guy ridden with the 'tism. Drow Warlock who sees the good in everything... Such a...A yeah...

Little notes i've been conjuring about this...

Gale and Wyll made a chore chart in the kitchen, with little magnets for each person. Astarion regularly will switch his magnet in the middle of the night just so he doesn't have to do the fucking dishes and EVERYBODY knows besides Gale and Wyll. Wyll is on the fence about it, but Gale wholeheartedly believes when Astarion lies through his teeth about never having done it.

Karlach and Halsin go on grocery runs in the mornings. Karlach goes for the running part, while Halsin comes along for the run as well as to stop Karlach from buying the most horrendous shit. The one time she went alone very early in the houses lifespan, Karlach bought like 3 bags of go-gurt, about 50 dollars worth of cheap booze, and a big piece of raw steak to cook. She burnt said steak. But she's trying now, at least.

The team will take turns every now and then to get Astarion blood from themselves as it gives Astarion a lot more energy then normal settling blood. BUT they do have "blood bags" that they set up in the kitchen fridge whenever they know nobody with the right blood is gonna be available to give him blood if he needs it. They TOTALLY get it by legal means and it TOTALLY doesn't melt Astarions heart that they try so hard to help him.

Silk finds a stray dog in the alleys of their building one day when they went out to work (they do freelance art with their magic for like startups, it's fun). After casting "speak with animals" they find out this dog, Scratch, is waiting for his owner to return. His owner was killed out by some gnoll gang downtown. When they come back from work later in the evening, they find Scratch again, still waiting. Long story short, Silk adopts scratch in their very strict "no pets" rule of an apartment. And don't get me STARTED on the owlbear cub. Lae'zel and Halsin were out, originally to get some spare lightbulbs and tools for the apartment and find the little critter getting chase by some goblins in some backalley parking lot. Lae'zel plans to ignore the thing, but Halsin assists the cub. Once done, they plan to leave, before the cub begins to follow them home. Halsin names the cub "Vauva" and Lae'zel soon becomes SO attached.

They have presentation nights, where everybody makes slideshows about literally anything. Last week, Gale made one about the conflicts of archmages and the idea of apprentices. Karlach then made a tier list on the worst monsters ever documented, Lae'zel helped with that one. Shadowheart made this whole discussion over her favorite and least favorite teas (she fuckin' hates green tea for like no reason). Wyll made one on Baldurs Gate history. Astarion made a smash or pass list of all of the political leaders in Baldurs Gate. Silk made a presentation on the weirdest underdark myths and rumors they have heard on their time above ground. Halsin presented (well more like persuaded) on getting a new herb for their kitchens row of herbs and spices set on the windowsill. They have too many and he got like 5 minutes of stand time before Karlach kicked him off.

Lae'zel hate-cleans when shes mad at somebody in the apartment. Basically, she cleans every room in the entire fucking apartment BESIDES any of said "victims" parts of the house. One time, she got into a fight with Shadowheart and threw all of the dirty laundry she had so carefully put into the laundry room back into her room just all over the fucking place. If shes calm though, the house is normally fairly clean under her and Wyll's watch. It's one of the only things they agree on.

Because every bg3 piece of content I make loops back to bloodweave, I think they would have a little reading time together. Like whenever everybody is settling down for the night and they are up for it, they take this lovely window seat couch/bed thing in Gales room and just take out a good bottle of wine and a book for each of them and just read until late. They originally did this separately, but when the two find themselves both in the living room at 2 in the morning reading, they decide in silent agreement to make it routine. They sometimes read in silence, other times just talking absently about anything. Shadowheart finds out first by coming in to Gales room late one night to return a book he lent to her to find the two both passed out, tucked away in the window, books still in hand before they accidentally passed out. Shadowheart then teases them with photos the morning after.

Karlach and Lae'zel both do these really intense shadowboxing exercises in Karlachs room whenever the two have freetime and enough energy to go through with it. It's a heated bitter rivalry in the eyes of the githyanki, but Karlach just loves a little workout with her friend! Lae'zel does enjoy the workouts, as she doesn't get many options to really let off ALL of her steam, even if she works at a gym as a personal trainer. She is constantly told shes a bit TOO rough with the clients so she has to "tone it down". So it's nice.

Astarion and Shadowheart have girls nights. Like they paint each others nails and watch like twilight together (ironically they get so heated at how wrong they get it. "Just another human writer writing about shit she doesn't get" is used a lot in their rewatches). They also talk about like...their feelings. But it's very sparse and done so by a copious amount of wine (wine with a heavy amount of blood on the side for Astarion). Both of them never got to have moments like this in their childhoods, of just pure calmness and domestic childhood enjoyment, so they make due with what they can.

BY THE HELLS I JUST REALIZED I WROTE THIS MUCH. DAMN OKAY.

#baldurs gate three #baldurs gate au #bg3 modern fantasy au #origins apartment #bg3 astarion #bg3 karlach #bg3 gale #bg3 wyll #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 halsin #bg3 shadowheart #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #karlach cliffgate #shadowheart #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #halsin #bloodweave #can you see im crazy about this?

[ollypopwrites]

From Depths Unknown ; Part 3

Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Ao3

Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.

Rating: E

Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (there is a lot discussion of blood and injuries in this chapter), Major Character Death, Sexual Content (mostly just horny thoughts), background Bloodweave.

Chapter Summary:

Not even Moonrise Tower nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it.

Notes: I wanted some whump, okay? I promise they will fuck eventually.

“Rolan? Really? I thought he hated your guts.” 

“You haven’t seen him pining from afar?” Shadowheart asked dramatically. 

“Honestly, Tav, he’s a decent bloke,” Wyll said. “A bit rough around the edges —“

“A bit?!” Karlach protested. 

“Alright, quite rough around the edges,” Wyll amended.

“And pompous,” Shadowheart added. 

“Completely up his own ass,” Karlach agreed.

“Alright!” Tav said, “I’ve told you all, nothing happened.” 

Her and Rolan had been camp gossip from the moment they had walked into their suite; Tav had a hangover and a strong need for coffee, while Rolan was stiff with embarrassment at the questioning looks from her companions. He couldn’t stay long, but they had food and tea and coffee, which was the least she could offer him. She remembered most of the night: the crying, yelling and him having to arrange a makeshift bed for her. As it was embarrassing as it was, she felt a little better getting it all off of her chest. The details were fuzzy, but she knew she had come on to him. While nothing untoward had happened, the camp only saw their leader come through the doors looking bedraggled with an equally out of sorts tiefling wizard. Tongues had been sent wagging immediately. 

“But you do fancy him, don’t you?” Karlach asked. 

She took a deep breath. “Can we focus on the task at hand?” 

“Only after you admit you want to shag the grumpy wizard,” Shadowheart teased. 

“Fine, fine!” Tav felt like tearing out her hair. “Yes, yes I like him. Okay. Can we move on now?” 

“Sheesh,” Karlach breathed. “Take him to bed, mate. You need it.”

She didn’t need Karlach to tell her that. She pushed on, ignoring them. Wyll, however, caught up quickly to her. 

“I won’t lie to you, my friend, he hasn’t made the best impression,” he told her. “But he’s truly a good man.” 

“I know that.” 

“So, are you going to come clean about what happened on the roof then?” He was grinning, boyish and mischievous. 

“Not you too, Wyll, please you were my last hope.”

Her only saving grace was that they found their way to an unusual engineer named Redhammer and his submersible, which happened to be the same culprit that had killed one the the priestesses of Umberlee. While she had half agreed to kill or hand him over if she found him, he offered an opportunity to find the hostage Gondians in the Iron Throne. Tav decided to take some inspiration from Astarion, using him to get down to the Iron Throne before she ultimately left his fate up to Umberlee's order. She thought she should have felt guilty, but he had been so casual about killing the priestess and transporting hostages she found herself lacking any real remorse. After the tadpole was out of her head, she thought she may have to reassess her moral compass. 

After saving the Gondians, Duke Ravengaurd himself and their old friend Omeluum she was happy to be alive and not blown to bits at the bottom of the Chionthar. The priestesses of Umberlee had even rewarded them with a beautiful robe in exchange for finding Redhammer. Gale was the only other person it would have been suited for and he was too embarrassed to wear it despite the entire camp teasing him about it. It was a bit risqué, but when Tav slipped it on she felt it cling to her body and the strange fabric was so damn comfortable she felt as if it were a second skin. She quite liked it. 

They made their way to Sorcerer’s Sundries, knowing the next day would be their chance to finish up the infiltration of the Steelwatch Foundry. Tav was sure Gortash would not bring the Steelwatch down on them right away. The last thing he needed was his army of metal titans tearing apart the city to find them, civilians would inevitably get hurt and then they would get angry. Gortash needed a city scared but ready to cling to a tyrant that could keep them safe, not ready to revolt for stepping on their children. They had to move, but she wanted to let him sweat and take time to get ready for their final push. 

The foundry, the hammer, the last Netherstone. Then the brain. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Rolan was rarely in the shop these days. His mirror image had taken his position at the counter, helped along by the other specialists and Cal or Lia. Tav made her way upstairs; despite her pride she owed Rolan thanks for the night before and an apology for the teasing her friends had thrown his way in the wake of it. And she wondered if he’d like her new robes. It was silly, and pointless in the face of everything else that was going on but the desire was there, hiding behind her ‘noble’ reasons for disturbing him in the middle of the day. She made her way through the portal which led to the study Rolan was now using as his own office throughout the day. The blood, ash and bodies had all been cleared away — the decadent room was still in process of being redone to Rolan’s standards but it had come a long way since Lorroakan’s death. 

“Rolan?” She called. 

“A minute, please,” he replied from the balcony. 

Tav rolled her eyes, muttering about wizards and their books. She strolled about the room. He seemed to be in the process of organizing tomes, one of the animated suits of armor was picking up a stack piled on the ground and taking it through another portal. She recalled him mentioning a library, and wanting to cultivate his own favorites for the study. It was his, now, after all. 

“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”

When he had heard Tav’s voice carry through the study, he noted a lack of distinct irritation at being interrupted. Another sign that Tav was becoming worryingly exempt from his usual ‘prick-ish particularities’ as Cal had so kindly put it. He had just seen her that morning and as awkward as breakfast had been amongst her companions, he had to force himself to finish putting books on the shelf before heading down the stairs. He needed to retain some of his dignity, after all, despite his desire to eagerly stop everything he was doing at the sound of her voice. Tav waited for him below, and as usual, he took a mental note of any new injuries she may have acquired.

Robes with pieces of protective gear was what she normally wore. Soft leathers and sturdy cotton robes, with something to protect her vulnerable points. Even out of armor she usually only wore a simple tunic and cloth pants. His surprise to find her at the center of his study in an outfit that was all flesh and skin tight fabric made him stop in his tracks. The light blue ensemble clung to every curve, dipped low between her breasts (that damned pearl dangling at the center of her chest matched well with this new outfit, he noted), and was slit at the legs so all he saw was skin bared up to a concerning height on her thighs. Her worn leather boots stuck out, not quite fitting in with the sleek outfit, but that did nothing to preserve him from staring dumbly. 

His momentary gawking was interrupted when he realized this scrap of fabric was meant to be armor. All the soft spots of her were exposed to cuts and bruises. 

“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”

“You don’t like it?”

“That’s hardly the point I’m trying to make,” he said quickly. 

“Then what is the point?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You can’t wear that in a fight. It’s…” 

Ravishing. So easy to slide aside so I could have any part of you I wanted, he thought. 

“Impractical.” He said aloud. 

“And you decide what I wear now?”

“No,” he replied through grit teeth. “Of course not.”

“Well, I like it.” Tav shrugged him off, turning away and walking around to look at his progress in the study. 

The dress was just as tight in the back, he noticed, his mind reeling and his pulse thrumming. “Where did you even get it?”

“It was a gift from the priestesses of Umberlee,” she said. 

“And what, pray tell, did you do to earn it?” 

“Freed some hostages in a prison at the bottom of the Chionthar and found the man who killed one of their order.” She listed casually. “Duke Ravenguard was down there, if you can believe it. And then Archduke Gortash, magnanimous man that he is, tried to blow us up,” her tone dripped with sarcasm, “it’s been quite a day.”

“Your usual heroics, then,” he grit out. 

“Of course,” she grinned, and everything about the smile was a challenge, a tease, and he was certain he never wanted her so badly. “I know you love to hear about my gallantry. Not bad for a girl who started the day with a terrible hangover, I think.”

“Is there a point to your visit?” He asked tersely. 

“Actually, yes,” she finally came up to him. 

Close enough to touch. The fabric looked soft, and shimmery, probably pleasant enough to run his hands over but the exposed space between her breasts seemed particularly ripe for licking. His jaw clenched as he made the Herculean effort to look her in the eyes. The teasing look she had before was gone, something a little more bashful and sweet. It only made it harder to keep his hands to himself. 

“I wanted to say thank you for last night.” She said, “I don’t remember all of it… but I know I was not at my best. Thanks for putting up with me, and sorry my friends are busybodies.” 

Rolan didn’t know what to say. A whirlwind was inside him. Pure want and affection. Irritation at said want and affection. Irritation at himself for not being able to just say what he wanted to. This was all getting entirely out of hand. 

“How is your arm?”

“My….arm?”

“You’re still scarred, from that ring you so foolishly put on when you had no idea what it did,” he snapped. 

“Oh, that,” she deflated. “Fine. Just these marks,” she pushed back the sleeves of the robe to look at them. “Gale thinks it was some kind of connection to the elemental plane.” At his responding silence she shifted awkwardly. “Okay,” she drew out the word, “I’m going to go.” 

“Goodbye.”

He stayed to watch her go, eyes glued to the way the robes clung to her bottom, the shift of the fabric and delicate metalwork over her exposed legs. 

“You can’t wear that,” he blurted out. “Not in battle. You’ll be ripped to shreds.”

And so would the robe itself, which would be a terrible shame in and of itself, the more he thought about it.

“You said that already.” 

“It bears repeating.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Rolan.” 

As she stepped through the portal and he was left alone he groaned, rubbing both hands over his face, as he muttered to himself, “you’re going to kill me you meddlesome, irritating, beautiful woman.” 

While there had been little notice before the Netherbrain broke free and started unleashing terror on the city, Tav had at least warned her allies ahead of time that it could happen any day at any time. With Rolan’s permission, Counselor Florrick had spread the word that the tower was going to be one point of haven in the city. It had protections and wards, and plenty of space. When all hells broke loose, Cal and Lia were holding down the fort while he made his way to High Hall. Thankfully most of the fighting was happening in the upper city, but mind flayers were running rampant, the sky was red with fire, full of errant blasts from nautiloids and dragons. 

He sent civilian healers as he found them to the tower, instructing them to take whoever they could with them. The high hall was crowded, Flaming Fists taking account of all the allies of Tav’s which had gathered. Many of them he recognized, some he had never seen before, but his heart swelled with pride at the gathering of people who were ready to support Tav and her friends. 

When she came through the door with all her camp in tow, smattered in blood, as she always was, he thought she may cry at the showing. There wasn’t much time, but she took a moment to appraise them of her plan. Her entire party would take the main push to the brain, along with the illithid she had with her. There was no time to explain, she only assured them that this person — Orpheus, was on their side. She needed anyone she did not call to her side to focus on protecting the few points of refuge they had managed to secure in the city, and above all to keep as many civilians safe as possible. She was given means to summon her allies as needed.

As Tav made the quick effort to offer thanks to everyone individually, he felt the terror of it being the last time he saw her. This was not the Tav which he’d had drinks with at the Elfsong every night leading up to this battle, laughing with her friends, carefree for just a few hours. This was the woman who had lead four people to victory against a small army of Goblins, who stormed Moonrise towers and lifted the curse over Reithwin. Focused, determined and if she was scared it never once showed on her face. Only the storm dancing behind her eyes, calm before she exploded into action. 

Rolan had to believe the next time he’d see her, she would be relaxed and teasing him about something over a glass of wine. As she approached him last, before heading out to save the city, he bolstered himself to be whatever she and the rest of the people of Baldur’s Gate needed. 

“The tower is ready, you need only call.” He told her swiftly. 

“Thank you.” She nodded. “Rolan, I — “ she bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut. “If I survive this —“

“You will,” he said certainly. 

“If I do,” she repeated, eyes boring into his with earnesty he hardly knew how to deal with, “would you like to join me for a bottle of Arabellan Dry?”

“Are you asking me on a date? Right now?” As if to punctuate his point the ground shook, horrible screeching sounds and the roar of a dragon sounded out. 

“Might be my last chance,” she breathed. 

“It won’t be,” he insisted. If she was going to be bold enough to ask him out for a drink before running off to certain death — he had to rise to the challenge. He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. “You’ll come back to me, gloriously and infuriatingly victorious.”

If he said it confidently enough it may just come true. It had worked for him before.

Tav nodded, squeezing his hand in hers. She hesitated, but there was little time for more to be said. She suddenly began to dig under the collar of her armored robes with her free hand. After fidgeting for a moment with something around her neck she held out the chain of the necklace which held her Pearl of Power. 

“Can you hold onto it for me? I don’t want to lose it again.” 

“You may need it,” he was unsure what else to say. 

“Already used it today,” she said, “it’s just sentimental right now. And just — hold onto it. Please.” 

Tav took his hand and placed the necklace into his palm, gently curling his fingers over it. It was such a small trinket, but the implications of her leaving it with him made it feel immeasurably valuable. He thought he would rather die than let it come to any harm. The dramatics of such a train of thought struck him so violently with the realization that he was undoubtedly in love. The terrible timing for such an epiphany was only emphasized by a loud boom on the roof and the shudder of dust and small bits of debris raining down on them.

Tav let go of his hand and with a determination in her eye he knew all too well, led her party out into the midst of terror with no other word. 

There was no time to stop. 

Not even Moonrise nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it. She had seen Astarion and Gale share what they thought might possibly be their last kiss. Watching them felt like an intrusion, but the glance she had gotten of desperate softness in their eyes made her more determined than ever. Tav silently vowed that she would come out of this with everyone alive and ready to begin anew. 

When they finally found the  stalk of the Elderbrain it led higher and higher up over the city. She felt the adrenaline spurring her to start to climb, and she didn’t have to look behind her to know they followed. At the top it was an onslaught of psionic forces: the netherbrain, the illithids it commanded, and the tadpoles in their heads revolting at every move they made to fight against them. There were moments that blanked out, as she was stunned or her head hurt so badly she felt she couldn’t see. They were all moving on pure instinct to survive. 

Karlach’s rage was an unstoppable force, Lae’zel cut down anyone in her path with brutal efficiency, and the only thing more intense than the amount of healing magic Shadowheart was expending was the force with which she brought down her mace. Jaheira and Halsin were in charge of summoning reinforcements as needed, controlling the battlefield with Druidic magic while Gale sent off spell after spell with devastating effect. Astarion and Wyll danced around the battlefield; Wyll’s combined magic and skill with the blade making him virtually untouchable while Astarion flitted in and out of visibility, daggers digging into flesh with deadly accuracy. 

And she exploded with magic. 

Her arm hurt, the flowing lines of whatever had touched her when she put on that ring in the tower glowed and raged as she gave everything she had. When she felt she had nothing left, it fed her new power, keeping a steady stream of lightning ready to strike. There was not a lot of time to think on this new development, only time to acknowledge that whatever it did to her, her magic was thriving on it. Her magic felt centered for the first time in her life. Controllable, not just something she was barely wrangling and flinging around blindly. 

The last push to the crown was upon them. The way just needed to be cleared, she called to Halsin over the clamor of it all, tadpole transmitting to the others her plan. In truly rumbling cacophony explosions rained down, almost clearing their path. For a moment she took in the show of power from Ramazith’s Tower, but they had to bolt forward. 

Lae’zel took the lead, attacking an illithid arcanist guarding the portal they needed to get into. Gale was quick behind her, magic missiles firing off in every direction and counterspell quickly cast afterwards. Karlach was keeping the way clear, as more illithid were summoned, hacking at tentacled heads until they rolled off. Tav took off for the portal, only to come face to face with her father. 

No. It was her dream guardian. The Emperor’s trick. 

When she had first seen the man in her dreams she had thought the same thing: he was just similar looking enough to her dear old dad to get her guard down but not so identical it would ring off alarm bells in her mind. Tav’s father was dead, after all, the Emperor had toed the line of familiarity on purpose. The single moment of hesitation was enough for the guardian to blast her with psionic energy, knocking her off of her feet.  An intellect devourer took its chance and leapt onto her. Searing pain spread through her abdomen as claws dug in and tore. It was climbing up her body, ripping skin with every step. Her arm was pinned underneath one of its horrid legs, unable to cast, and she felt the thunderous pulse in her chest, the tingle of electricity in her veins — and then a dagger came down stopping the devourer in its tracks.

Astarion was above her, kicking the thing off of her. With a cry she felt the claws slip loose, blood pouring out of the wounds. The pain slipped away to the back of her mind as she flung forward, hands outstretched  when a chain of lightning erupted at another dream guardian which tried to stop Gale. Astarion helped her to her feet, shoving a meager healing potion at her. It was not enough to close the wounds, but it gave her a rush of new vitality and they ran for the portal

This was it. This was the final task. All they had to do was survive long enough to take out the Netherbrain. 

After setting off the blasts at Halsin’s command, Rolan had launched himself halfway down the stairs, nearly stumbling and stepping on his own tail. There were a handful of Flaming Fists, armed civilians, Cal, Lia and even Aradin guarding the perimeter of the tower; he had to go join them. The store was always chaotic with all the summons wandering around and magical effects but this was a different vein of mayhem. Anyone he could find with healing magic along the way was running around, people were screaming and crying on the floors and any clear surface available. 

It sounded like Elturel. 

Shaking his head of the thought, he pushed through the doors. People were still running, trying to get through the doors of the tower and whatever building still stood to get away from the carnage. The square was full of bodies and blood and rubble. He spotted Cal and Lia, both alive and fighting well. Cal’s swing was strong, Lia’s aim was impeccable — he was able to focus on casting. An illithid floated forward, chasing after a meal of one of the Flaming Fists' brains, Rolan quickly cast color spray, confusing the creature and shortly after one of Lia’s arrows sunk into its elongated head.

Cal got stunned, his head in his hands as he wobbled on his feet, two mindflayers floating towards him. Rolan nearly tripped over his robes to grab his brother by his shirt and pull him back, Cal fell and as soon as he was out of the line of attack Rolan felt the boom of thunder erupt from his hand. The illithids were sent backwards, landing on their back, prone. 

“Cal,” he turned to offer a hand to his brother, “stay steady.” 

“Yeah,” Cal grunted, shaking his head free of the psionic force which had stunned him. “I’m good, I’m alright.” 

“Rolan! Incoming!” 

Lia’s voice called out before she let an arrow loose. His eyes flicked to the sky, a nautiloid was overhead, a beam of some sort beginning to glow with energy. 

“To me! Now!”

Aradin and anyone nearby enough to hear him huddled close, Rolan swiftly casting an orb of invulnerability. He had never cast it before, not successfully, but it was all he could think of to try. A slight red shimmer created a bubble around them, the nautiloid made its attack. A few people were decimated by the blow immediately outside of the orb, even a ravenous illithid in the middle of extracting a brain from a skull had not made it out of the way in time. The spell worked. Rubble flew into the air with the blast, and stopped bluntly at the barrier. 

Thank the Gods. Rolan thought to himself, sweat beading down his temple. 

Lia ducked in and out of the orb to shoot off arrows, clearing the path for some to make their way to the tower or within the confines of Rolan’s temporary protection. He managed to keep the orb up long enough for the blasts to cede after the nautiloid was distracted from attacking the ground by a Githyanki force of dragon riders. 

“There’s more coming!” Aradin yelled. “We should fall back into the tower.”

“The wards can only take so much,” Rolan snapped back. “Get out there and kill something or get out of the way!”

He never understood Zevlor’s well-known ire for the mercenary more as he fled inside. As he had said, more illithids came out of the woodwork. The alien army had not found it necessary to send any armored mind flayers — relying on the freshly transformed tadpoled masses which had been lurking in the city. They had numbers, but most of them were stark naked, and sloppy in the unusual new bodies. Many of them fell quickly, which was his only comfort against the slowly dwindling numbers of his own allies. If they just kept it up, they could maintain the line of defense around the tower. 

“Come on, Tav,” he heard Lia scream as another Flaming Fist fell to an illithid. “Just kill it already!” 

There was no way for Tav to hear them, but he understood the panic. He felt each second that passed since he set off the blasts from the tower as if it were an hour. They could not keep this up forever, and part of him knew that as intense as it was on the ground, up there where the brain hovered in the air it was ten times worse. 

“Tav needs us to hold strong,” he called to his sister. “We owe her that, at least.” 

Lia was too far away for him to be sure but thought he saw her jaw set in the same way Cal’s did when he was concentrating. His brother felled an illithid in one blow, clean and easy at the neck. 

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Cal said, “but Rolan is right!”

It truly was the end of the world.

When Tav hit the water, she blacked out for a moment. Her eyes opened and the gasp that wracked her body filled her mouth and lungs with water as she realized too late in her waking that she was in the Chionthar. She floundered to the surface, hacking and coughing. Once she had her breath, she started screaming for her companions.

“Here!” Gale yelled.

He was not too far off from her, hanging onto some floating debris, with an unmoving lump with white hair. She swam over, grabbing onto the debris. 

“Is he alive?” She panicked. 

“Breathing,” Astarion’s voice was weak, “stop screaming.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Tav felt herself succumbing to the confusion. “Karlach! Have you seen anyone? Wyll!”

“I’ve got Shadowheart and Wyll!” She heard Karlach call, a red spot in the distance, tethering two limp bodies as she kept them on their backs. 

Lae’zel, Halsin, Minsc and Jaheira were still unaccounted for. Tav’s eyes scanned the water, dawn hadn’t broken yet, it was still dark and the depths below were impossible to see into. The only real light was provided by the city which was still very much on fire. Just as Tav was about to give into despair, a giant tentacle broke the water, then another, in its grips was an unconscious Lae’zel, and Minsc who was sputtering and cackling like a madman. Finally a third, and Halsin broke the surface. 

“Minsc! Where’s Jaheira?”

“You look upon her!” He called back. 

Wild shape was one hell of a thing. Tav called to the giant octopus whose eye peered into hers as it breached the surface, telling Jaheira to grab Karlach first as she was treading water and trying to keep two people afloat at the same time. Tav watched, only vaguely hearing Astarion and Gale speaking next to her. She needed to see them all safely put upon the dock, she needed to know she had done it. She hadn’t lost anyone. 

“Stop trying to talk to me,” Astarion muttered. “I’m furious with you.”

“My love, I would have made sure you were transported out of harm's way,” Gale attempted to sooth him. 

“And what about you?” Astarion snapped. “What was I supposed to do without you?” 

She was not quite sure what they were talking about. 

“We were losing, Astarion,” Gale pleaded. “The orb may have been—“

“The orb?” Tav heard her neck crack as she swung her head so fast to look at him. She felt dizzy. 

“He very nearly blew himself up, again,” Astarion seethed. “I saw him reach for the dagger.” 

“Gale!” Tav scolded. “I told you — not an option!”

“Tav, please, if all else failed —“

“But it didn’t!” She yelled. 

“No,” he sighed. “No, it did not. So please, can we make it to land and put this to rest.” 

Just as Tav was about to argue with him, she felt a tug at her midsection, and uncomfortable stinging of pain accompanying the grasp. Astarion and Gale were lifted out of the water by tentacles  at the same time she was and they were being slowly carried to the dock. It was supposed to be over once they all made it on dry land. She had given in to the hope that she had finally led her party to their final battle without losing a single member. The victory was supposed to be sweet, and cathartic. 

The moment they caught their breath on the dock, Karlach’s engine started to fail. 

The main floor of the store was cleared of most furniture to make room for cots full of injured people. Amateur and professional healers alike were running around madly, calling for aid from whoever was still standing. To his credit, he had begun to organize as best he could. It was still chaos, but he was managing to take requests, send off whatever volunteer was nearest to assist, and have Cal take on grabbing potions and herbs from the stores as needed. Rolan was no healer, but he could wrap a wound before too much blood was lost as some poor soul waited for someone to be available. He could also bark orders, arrange for Fists to section off high risk patients from those who could survive without immediate attention. 

There were two surgeons he had managed to recruit. Their space was at the very back near the necromancy supplies were, with a temporary shielding wall of stone. It didn’t drown the screams of agony as they operated but it prevented anyone from witnessing an amputation. 

When the heroes of the hour burst through the door of the tower, even amongst the chaos, Rolan knew something was wrong. They looked like hell. Jaheira was bleeding from a deep wound on her head, Shadowheart was limping, and even Minsc who was always quick to get back on his feet looked like he had been thrown from a twenty story building and felt it. A good chunk of the party was missing. Wyll and Karlach were nowhere to be seen. In fact way too many of them were just gone. Astarion, Gale and Lae’zel didn’t follow, and neither did Tav. Halsin was the very last of them in, carrying someone.

“A bed! Now!” The Archdruid’s voice boomed over the chaos

A humming sound rang in his ears, the entire world pinpointed to the form of the woman in Halsin’s arms as he was directed to place her on a free bed by a Fist. 

Rolan let his feet guide him to her side, a numb feeling keeping panic at bay. On the bed was a bloody mess of a woman, who in all appearances looked like Tav but… That surely wasn’t his Tav. That was an empty shell; the skin had no vibrancy, the only truly bright color was the blood leaking out of the deep wound in her stomach. Her eyes, open staring up at the ceiling, were empty. 

Shadowheart placed her hands over Tav and the glow of her healing magic flashed and ebbed away. She tried again, but the magic stuttered out. Shadowheart let out a strangled scream in frustration, pounding glowing hands into Tav's chest and each rush of power was weaker and weaker.

“What are you doing? Heal her,” Rolan demanded. “Fix her!”

“I can’t —“ Shadowheart’s voice cracked. 

“Shadowheart’s magic is spent,” Jaheira’s tone was sharp but even, the voice of a General. “And healing magic won’t work on her now. This is a magic shop — find a resurrection scroll.” 

Resurrection implied she was dead. Logically, yes, he could see that. Tav was dead, nothing more than spent flesh and blood. But this was not supposed to happen, this was beyond everything he knew of her.

She always survives. She always does the impossible. She can't be dead.

“How did this happen?”

“Rolan,” Shadowheart pleaded his name, disregarding the question, “do you have a resurrection scroll?” 

The buzzing in his ears stopped, the cacophony of the tower coming back to him. A solution that he could focus on. He took off in a sprint, jumping over the counter. His hands shook as he opened the safe where they kept the high value scrolls.  

“Rolan, that Florrick lady is here, she brought some — what’s wrong?”

He didn’t hear Lia come up, and didn’t take the time to acknowledge her as he started reading through the stock. “We must have one.”

“Talk to me,” Lia said again getting his attention, “what’s happened?”

An idea jolted him, there were stores and stores of supplies in the study. “Upstairs, in the study, the scroll collection —“ he quickly said, “we need a resurrection scroll.”

“But —“

“Check the vaults, check the study — find me a resurrection scroll!” 

Taking in his frantic tone, Lia ran off without further question. There was no possible way this was how Tav’s story ended. In a numb haze he remembered what little he knew about healing and divine magic; there was a time limit on a basic resurrection spell. At some point a soul was too far gone and True Resurrection would be the only other option. Plain resurrection scrolls were rare enough as it was, but a True Resurrection scroll was near impossible for most people to get ahold of. 

Chain of lightning, hold person, cloud kill — his hands fumbled to work as fast as he read the scrolls. He had no real idea how much time was passing, but each second was too long. There were dozens of scrolls, and he looked at each one. Finding nothing of use he ran around the counter to start up the stairs.

He should have told her at High Hall. He should have just said it. He should have thought to find a scroll ahead of time for this very purpose. What a cosmic joke, for her to have made it this far, only to die at the finish line. She deserved better. He would make sure she got a better ending than this. He nearly ran into Lia jumping the last few steps of the staircase. 

“I found one!” 

She held up the scroll and he snatched it out of her hand, narrowly dodging a healer as he ran to the bed where Shadowheart was praying desperately. 

“Found — the scroll —“ he stammered out, short of breath. 

“Use it, quickly,” Jaheira said. 

His fingers fumbled with the clasp that held it shut, as it unfurled he knew he needed to breathe through the panic in his chest. He could do an incantation, he could read the words off of a scroll as he had a hundred times before. There was not a God he prayed to usually, not one he thought to plead with specifically. Mystra, maybe. But given what he knew of her and her friends, Mystra might not be so inclined to help Tav. 

His willpower would have to be enough; this was not how her story ended, he repeated to himself. She was too good, too resilient, too kind, too forgiving, too infuriatingly wonderful — too loved.  Rolan was not going to let her disappear that easily, he vowed as he spoke the incantation.

The spell took hold, golden light shuddering Tav’s body, and then disappearing. For a terrifyingly long moment, he was unsure if it worked. But her eyes blinked, at first it looked like a twitch, but then they fluttered a few times and the light was back in them. Her limbs jolted like she had been electrocuted and then a truly shocking deep gasp for air had her sitting up on the cot. 

“There you are, Cub,” Jaheira said, a steady hand on her shoulder which emitted the familiar green light of her Druidic magic. “Didn’t think we’d let you get out of cleaning up, did you?”

“Hurts,” she sucked breaths in desperately. 

“Lay down,” Shadowheart said. “We’ll find a healer.”

“Where —?”

Rolan was frozen to the spot. She still looked so close to death. Her head swiveled over to him, eyes confusedly still searching for some sense of what was going on. 

“You.” Was all she said. 

“Yeah, me,” he breathed. “Lay down. You look awful.”

“Rude,” she wheezed but let herself ease onto her back. “I think you look… good…” exhaustion, pain or any combination of whatever her body was going through had her slipping out of consciousness. 

“Tav,” Rolan panicked, kneeling next to her. “Damn you, stay awake,” he grabbed her face in his hands and she gave him a heavy lidded stare. 

“Trying,” she said. 

She was still in rough shape. Halsin and Jahiera dumped the last dregs of their limited healing magic into her, doing just enough to keep her from bleeding out on the bed once more. Shadowheart tipped her head back for a basic healing potion, and it dribbled down the side of her face but it brought some of the vibrancy of her skin.

“She won’t succumb to the wounds, but she needs healing quickly,” Halsin seemed to be talking to himself more than them, as he took off to find someone to help. 

“You can rest now,” Shadowheart assured her softly. “Right, Rolan?” 

He wasn’t so sure. But Shadowheart was a healer, she knew better than him. He swallowed hard, and nodded. “That’s right.”

“Good,” Tav mumbled, “tired.” 

Shadowheart and Rolan watched as she slipped into unconsciousness. Her chest rose and fell, although shallowly. Shadowheart heaved a big breath, recomposing herself. She looked around the room, and then to Rolan.

“I need to rest, then I’ll be able to help,” she seemed to be telling herself rather than him. “I’ll stay here,” she said, “I’ll stay with her and rest.”

“What can I do?” Rolan asked desperately. 

“You are the Master of Ramazith’s tower,” Jahiera cut in. “This is your city, you have a duty to its people now — unless you wish to follow Lorroakan’s example, get to work.” Jaheira looked down at Tav, “we will look after her, as she has looked after us.”

Rolan never felt more like an outsider, and he felt he should watch whatever healer Halsin found. If only to see for himself that she was truly going to be alright. Shadowheart was watching the rise and fall of her chest with intense focus, and it felt wrong that she was the only one of their original group by her side. 

“Rolan, there’s a fire that they can’t put out over in Heapside,” Cal was there, Rolan hadn’t even heard him approach. 

“There’s summoning scrolls, water elementals,” he said distractedly. 

“Go,” Shadowheart looked at him. “We’ve got her.”

“And that is supposed to be a comfort?” He snapped. “She was dead just moments ago under your watch!”

“She didn’t tell us,” Shadowheart said back, a tone of shame in her raised voice. “Everything was happening so fast — she didn’t tell us she was hurt!”

“No one here is to blame,” Jaheira was annoyed, he could tell by the arch of her brow. “She would tell you the same.”

He felt another comment on the tip of his tongue, ready to rage and yell to do something with the gods awful feeling in his chest. He nearly lost her. 

“Rolan,” Cal said, “we have to —“

“Fine! Fine.” 

The city still needed saving, despite the threat being gone. Who knew how much help was needed across the city. Running to everyone's rescue was what she would tell him to do, but still he was afraid to leave her side. He touched her cheek: warm, alive, despite looking worse than she ever had after a fight. 

“She’ll be alright?” He asked, wincing slightly at the desperate crack in his voice. 

Shadowheart nodded, her hand coming to squeeze his, “I promise, I won’t let her slip away again.”

Rolan had no other choice but to trust her.

Thank you for reading!

Next Chapter

#rolan x reader #rolan x tav #bg3 fanfiction #rolan fanfic #olly writes

[yikessmicah]

bloodweave

heres some bloodweave brainrot copy pasted directly from my priv twitter bc i was going insane at like 3am last night

// tw mention/brief discussion of astarion and gale's trauma, including sexual trauma. ill highlight it red so you can read the rest if youd like while avoiding the triggering part.

also obvious spoilers for part of astarion and gale's personal stories/quests.

AND DISCLAIMER this is my opinion and straight up brainrot u can ship whoever u want in bg3 idc <3

-----

sorry im having bloodweave brainrot because out of everyone in the camp i think gale Would be the objectively best match for astarion to be in a successful relationship with.

he wouldn't push him to do anything (tho i dont think any of the companions would, but ykwim) and since gale has his own form of relationship and sexual trauma (the fact mytsra groomed him since he was Literally a child and was only ever intimate with him on the astral plane therefore he's never had real physical human touch and intimacy) it would be overwhelming for him too!!

hed WANT to take it slow, he'd WANT to be as accomodating and like. he also has something on his body that represents his trauma the same way astarion does!! astarion has his scars and gale has the orb tattoo on his chest. i also think just. astarion's whole life as a spawn was only surrounded by people he Hated talking to. people who would spit insults and berate him, treat him like he was pathetic and disgusting - but gale? gale of waterdeep who never fucking shuts up?

gale of waterdeep who would gladly wake up and immediately shower him with compliments using words astarion had never even heard before? gale who would would describe astarion's features for him re: him not being able to see his reflection in such words and with such ease that eventually astarion starts to *like* the fact he doesnt have a reflection?

gale of waterdeep who would spend every waking moment of his day - that he wasnt spending talking to or being with astarion - working on a way to cure astarion of his vampirism or at Least a way for him to walk in the sun?

GALE OF WATERDEEP . who would gladly and without fucking question give up touching astarion ever again if he told him to?

gale of waterdeep who would answer every question astarion had? who would comfort his every dark thought?

gale of fucking waterdeep who would CARE for astarion so fucking well that he would genuinely start believing and KNOWING !!! he was worthy of love.

gale of FUCKING !! WATEDEEP !! who would vow to never shut up again if thats what helped astarion deal with the memories of sitting alone in a dungeon for months or YEARS at a time at the hands of cazador (not that that would be particularly hard with how me he talks already /pos).

gale who would gladly give up ever seeing the sun again and completely flipping his sleep schedule if it meant being able to walk the streets with astarion safely.

gale who would truly and wholly give nothing but his honest and real self. bare and beaten but NOT broken. show that astarion was the same. not broken. not something to be "fixed". simply something - SOMEONE - that needed to be guided a little. simply someone that needed safety.

gale of waterdeep who would do anything for his blood to taste sweet for astarion again. so he wouldnt have to fear where his next meal was going to come from. so astarion would never have to sink his teeth into a beast - let alone a sewer rat - ever again. never again would he let him have to hunt criminals in the night through the streets Alone. EVER AGAIN!!!

gale of waterdeep who would give up sleep to be by astarion's side as much as he could (since hes human and astarion is an elf). i just. he would do anything for him. Truly Anything.

gale of waterdeep who would wait weeks, months, YEARS - CENTURIES. if that's how much time it took for astarion to say i love you back. gale would say it 300 times a day and not once would it ring with the exigency of needing him to say it back.

gale....

#bg3 #bloodweave #astarion x gale #gale x astarion #bloodweave brainrot #brainrot #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 bloodweave #baldurs gate 3 bloodweave #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios x astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 astarion x gale #original post

[squealing-santa]

i'm dangerous cause i'm a fool for love

authors note: at last, at last, wrestling-anon is here with my gift for @august-anon -- and great minds think alike, because i was DELIGHTED to discover that we had submitted remarkably similar prompts in the best possible way. I'm Bloodweave trash, so I just had to go with the Astarion/Gale pairing you requested, but I hope I've worked in a couple of your other ideas too. title from Lord Huron, music absolutely made for BG3 at all times. also yes--that's obviously your Tav at camp with Wyll at the start <3

word count: 2739

fandom: Baldur's Gate 3, BG3

pairings: Wyll/Tav, Astarion/Gale, Bloodweave

content warning: discussion of past trauma

summary: Astarion knows he doesn't know half of what he's missed out on. Gale knows all too well.

* * * *

“Stop��STOP!”

Wyll’s voice rang loud and frantic through the camp, a tone they all recognized by now.

Gale glances up from the book he was poring over, Astarion sprawled over the seat behind him with his own book in hand. Gale calls out, a fond grin on his face,

“Oh dear. And whatever has our Blade of Frontiers done this time to deserve such torture?”

Wyll shrieks again, desperately grabbing for Tav’s hands as they snaked up his shirt again, tweaking the base of his ribs.

“Tav, PLEASE! I d-didn’t mean it!” he insists, his cheeks aching from the huge smile they’re forcing onto his face with each delicate touch. 

“Oh you didn’t? Then why did you say, and I quote, that you could take anything any of us dished out?” Tav asked, their own face bright with laughter at the sight of Wyll thrashing and pleading, nearly going to his knees.

“N-no more, no more!” Wyll gasps, the loudest noise still flying unbidden from his lips when Tav’s fingers find the weak spots near his navel.

Astarion moves closer to Gale, remarkably quiet for once as he watches the two lovers playfully tussling, a look of…longing? Confusion? on his pale face, fingers twitching at his sides as they do when he’s deep in thought.

The playful torture ends with Wyll finally capturing Tav’s wrists and planting kisses on their palms, and Tav fondly kissing the tears off his cheeks with a smile.. “There we are, a happy ending indeed,” Gale says, closing his book and placing it carefully back into his pack, glancing back at Astarion. “You’re suspiciously quiet.”

Astarion starts slightly, letting out an airy chuckle. “Hardly, my darling. Why, our lovely Wyll is loud enough to drown out anyone, there was no point in me trying to talk.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Gale teases, leaning in to plant a kiss on Astarion’s curls. Astarion rolls his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not speaking of yourself, hmm? I’ve never known you to be quiet in any setting. And I do mean any setting,” he adds with a leer.

Gale recognizes that shift in tone, the way Astarion deflects off to flirting more outrageously when he’s feeling something he’s not yet prepared to delve into, something Gale has had to come to terms with over their slow, strange courtship. He knows the best way forward is to leave it, knowing Astarion will come to him when he’s ready to unravel another layer, heal another wound.

“I have been known to be rather verbose, yes, but last I checked you didn’t exactly object to the long odes of praise,” Gale retorts, and Astarion grins. “That’s my Gale.”

Astarion wanders off to his own bedroll, that look still in his eyes, as Wyll scoops Tav up and over his shoulder with a cry of “revenge!”, carrying them off to his tent as Tav playfully swats at his back.

* * * *

Astarion comes to him rather sooner than expected, in the end.

The moment dark falls over the camp, Gale casts the usual soundproofing spell lest any of their companions–noises in the night draw anyone or anything closer than they’d like, retiring to his tent with a bottle of wine, a second glass already poured in case Astarion decides it’s one of the nights he’d like to spend tangled in Gale’s sheets rather than simply trancing on his own.

Gale hears the rustle of the tent flap pulling back as Astarion enters, giving him a fond smile and gesturing to the wine.

Astarion grins back, immediately seizing the glass and taking a sip, Gale’s eyes following the movement of his throat and the pleasured sigh he lets out as he swallows.

“My my, it’s like you knew I was coming.”

“I rather hoped you would. The bedroll feels rather empty when you don’t, hard though that may be to believe.”

Astarion preens, but his eyes are soft. “You flirt. You know you don’t have to work to get me in bed any more, hmm?”

“Nevertheless,” Gale says, “I never tire of complimenting you. And you never seem to tire of the compliments. We are…complementary, that way.” He looks especially proud of his little joke, Astarion groaning in reply even as he covers his mouth to hide a laugh.

“You are impossible. Absolutely impossible.” Astarion takes another drink, then quiets, staring into the liquid as though he’s trying to conjure something there.

Gale hesitates a moment before he moves closer, stroking a hand through Astarion’s hair, still not pushing him to respond, though every bit of Gale is sending out all of the “you can talk to me, I love you, you’re safe” signals he possibly can without words.

Astarion leans into the touch, his eyes drifting closed, a soft, pleased noise in his throat as Gale’s fingers lightly scratch at his scalp. Without looking up, he says, almost to the glass, “I… it’s hard, still. Even after…even after killing him. To feel as though I learn every day some new thing that he took from me without me even knowing I missed it.”

Gale feels the same dull ache in his heart–and his scar–that he does every time Astarion talks of his life before, of not just the obvious cruelties inflicted upon his scarred back, but the small, insignificant ones.

“I…all of us, but especially I…we’re here to help you find those things again, my love. If you want to find them. To learn together. I…hardly know sometimes who I might be without what my goddess made me…”

Astarion looks up at him, eyes slightly shiny with unshed tears. “Oh, my love. What a pair we two make,” he says, running his fingers along Gale’s jaw, toward his neck, Gale snorting out a small laugh involuntarily. “You know I’m ticklish…”

“That…reminds me,” Astarion says, looking back into the glass again as though it might perhaps be encouraging him. “I…look, I don’t even know how to…well, what I mean is…”

“Shall I tickle you, then?” Gale asks, and Astarion nearly chokes on the sip he’s about to take. “I…noticed how you were gazing at Wyll and Tav earlier. It was rather hard to miss, I’m afraid, though I suspect those two were rather preoccupied.”

“I don’t…I can’t remember. If I was ever ticklish, if anyone ever tried. Before. Certainly not since. I rather doubt that I am, honestly.  But…”

“We can start quite gently,” Gale promises, “I can tell you what I’m going to do, how I plan to touch. So I don’t startle you.”

Astarion sets the glass down with a nod, still not quite able to look up. “Yes. That…I think that might help.” He laughs again, a bit embarrassed. “All of the debauchery I’ve explored with so many and here I am blanching at the idea of asking for something so silly.”

Gale tilts his chin up, pressing a soft, warm kiss to his mouth, feeling Astarion not simply yield to it but answer it back hungrily, his fingers wrapping around the back of Gale’s neck as he sighs into his mouth, the kiss not something to be endured but something Astarion wants, and Gale can’t help but smile against his lips.

“Something funny, wizard?” Astarion breathes, his fingers shifting from a wrap to a tickle, making Gale scrunch up with a rather sweet giggle.

“N-no! Nothing funNY, I swear!” Gale insists, unable to still the giggles as Astarion’s fingers caress the sides of his neck, moving to tease under his chin.

“Perhaps I should simply tickle you instead, hmm?” Astarion purrs, but the purr turns to a yelp when Gale slips his fingers under the loose hem of Astarion’s shirt, just barely grazing his waistline.

Gale smiles in earnest now. “Sorry. Didn’t warn you properly. But…I’m already getting the sense that you might have been wrong about that whole not-being-ticklish bit.”

Astarion smirks back at him. “What was it Wyll apparently said earlier? I can take anything you dish out? I’m quite certain I can, you just caught me off guard.”

Gale taps the tip of his nose with a grin. “Lie down, hmmm? On your back to start, if it’s comfortable. And simply say…hmm…light, I suppose? If it’s too much to bear, I don’t actually want to torment you.”

Astarion obeys, biting back the temptation to make a lewd comment about Gale wanting him on his back, and raises his arms up, crossing them behind his head to pillow it in his hands.

“I think I’ll start with your stomach, then…” Gale muses, and Astarion feels a rather pleasant stirring in his chest at the idea of Gale narrating such a thing, the intention of comfort and warning nonetheless reminding him that when Gale puts his mind to it, he can tease Astarion to new heights of frenzy. Before he can remark on it, however, Gale’s soft fingers draw circles along his waistline and up toward his navel, and Astarion’s whole body jolts.

“What the HELL–?”

Gale can’t hide the look of glee on his face. “Oh, dear, dear me. I’ve only just started and you’re about to squirm out of your skin?”

“F-far from it, I just…didn’t expect…oh, GODS!”

Gale draws light, relentless paths, every touch shooting straight through Astarion’s nerves, like so much sparkling light, Astarion would swear Gale was casting some sort of spell as he laughs harder than any of the times he’s teased the others with Tasha’s Hideous Laughter.

And Gale simply will not.

Stop.

Talking.

“My, my, such a sensitive stomach, hmm? I suppose it makes sense to try your ribs next…lucky for you they’re not as exposed as they were when we first found you, eh?”

Gale strokes along the bones of his ribs, wiggling nails into the grooves between them, and Astarion’s laughter softens slightly but doesn’t fade completely.

“Ah, I see, not quite so ticklish there, are you? I’m a bit deadly around the ribs myself, if you haven’t noticed, quite a liability if someone thought they might want to sneak up and put a knife into them, eh? It’d catch them quite off guard for me to laugh, I expect–keep those arms up, would you, love?”

Gale’s fingers find their way to the soft tufts of hair in his armpits and Astarion practically howls, though he manages–barely–to keep his arms behind his head, tears springing to his eyes, but nothing resembling “light” rising from his mouth.

“Oh, this might be the best spot yet, hmm? You’re not simply ticklish, you’re terribly so, you may even rival me…or Wyll, for that matter!” Gale beams, and the fact that he isn’t intending to tease only makes the effect worse–well, or better, but Astarion thinks it might take more than a little tickle to get that confession from him.

“Hold on. Bit of an unusual spot, but…” Gale slides his fingers up Astarion’s sleeves to flutter softly over his biceps, and Astarion’s laughter goes from howls to the sweetest, most bubbly giggles Gale has ever heard, his eyes squeezing shut as he says “Y-you are vicious at this, Gale Dekarios!”

“Vicious? Me? I’m wounded, you know! After all, you were the one who asked for this…though I suppose you couldn’t have known you’d be quite this dreadfully ticklish…I may take a bit of convincing to stop, hearing you laugh like this!”

Gale immediately contradicts himself by pausing the attack, watching Astarion closely. “Still with me, love? I’d like to try your legs a bit, though I’m not sure if I dare to try your feet…”

Astarion clears his throat, adjusting his shirt as Gale withdraws his hands. “Do your worst, darling. Though don’t think I won’t enjoy every moment of my revenge…I don’t think I’ve explored your particular weakness to this nearly enough, now that I think on it.”

“Then I suppose I may as well earn it,” Gale teases back, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his forehead before sliding down to perch between Astarion’s thighs. “I normally might do this facing away from you, but I don’t…well. I want you to be able to see what I’m about to do, at least this first time.”

“You…you sweetheart,” Astarion says, voice fond but slightly shaky, a part of him still never sure that he deserves to have what he wants, what will bring him comfort, and Gale leans up to kiss him again, fingers cupping his chin as he murmurs, “I love you…”

“I love you too, even though you’re about to try tormenting me again…perhaps you’ve already found everywhere, however,” Astarion says, his eyes rather suggesting he hopes that isn’t the case. Gale grins as he rearranges himself between Astarion’s bent thighs, resting his fingers on his hips, making him twitch.

“Let us see,” Gale muses, returning to his narration as he lightly tickles, then squeezes at Astarion’s hips. Astarion jolts again, a few short laughs slipping out, but he shakes his head, looking almost disappointed. “Not much, I’m afraid.”

“Next time I have you undressed I may have to try one of my quills,” Gale says, half to himself, and Astarion’s eyes widen at the image before he lets out a loud, shrill squeal of laughter when Gale’s fingers start scribbling over the backs of his thighs, his back arching off the bedroll.

“GODS, that, that–” Astarion half-yelps, half squeals, barely managing not to slam his thighs down to protect the spot, and Gale all but lights up.

“Ohh, ticklish thighs, is that it? That’s a rather dangerous secret, you know…your thighs are so tempting to me already, but knowing I can hear your lovely laugh if I simply tickle you? You may have unleashed a monster,” Gale teases, fingers flying up and down, darting occasionally to his inner thighs which only makes him laugh louder.

“I’ll! I’ll get yours twice as MUCH–” Astarion tries to sound threatening, but the way his voice trembles with laughter slightly undoes the effect, the laughter spiking to a shriek when Gale teases behind his knees. “NOT that!”

“Not that? Not what, your knees? But that doesn’t sound like light, not at all! In fact, I’m starting to suspect you’re enjoying this a bit more than you’re letting on, love–you’re not fighting me a bit, are you? Haven’t tried once to put your legs down, or even grab my hands…”

Astarion only shriek-laughs in response, his head falling back, his hands slipping from behind his head to cover his face.

“Oh, no. That won’t do at all–”

Before Astarion can react, Gale wriggles his fingers into an exposed armpit again, and this time Astarion does snap his arms down, the howling from earlier repeated louder somehow as he writhes.

“You, you ass, you brat!” Astarion yelps, the insults lacking a certain sting, laced with giggles as they are.

“So which is worse, would you say? Hmm? After all, as your partner, I should know these sorts of things…under your arms, or your knees? It’s certainly hard to tell!” 

Gale punctuates the question by wriggling the fingers of his trapped hand in Astarion’s armpit, his other hand slipping behind his knee again, and Astarion cries out “Light, damn you!” before dissolving into hysterics.

Gale stops immediately, the tickles turning to firm rubs, though even those draw small hiccups of laughter as Astarion starts to relax, his eyes bright as he opens them to look at Gale.

“That…well. You are truly a vicious thing when you want to be, aren’t you, treasure?” Astarion says, wiping the tears off his cheeks, giving Gale a little wink.

“And you’re far more ticklish than I ever expected. It’s absolutely delightful, you know. You sound…it’s lovely, when you laugh like that. When you just let go. Just…just lovely.”

Astarion pulls him down on top of him for a long, slightly giggly kiss, his hands skimming along Gale’s back as they stroke up and down, murmuring a soft “...thank you” against his lips before letting his eyes close, enjoying the warm weight of Gale on top of him.

“I plan to have my revenge, you know,” Astarion mumbles, yawning hugely.

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. I’ll be ready. Besides, I’ve already got a few more spots on you I’ll be itching to try next time.”

Gale hides a smile when Astarion doesn’t retort anything about there not being a next time, only holds him tighter, face burrowing into Gale’s sensitive neck.

“That’s what I thought.”

#squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23 #submission #tickle fic #author: wrestling-anon #baldurs gate 3 tickling #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tickling #bg3 #Wyll/Tav #Astarion/Gale #Bloodweave

[vitanithepure]

The perfect bloodweave ending that definitely exists:

Astarion goes to Waterdeep with Gale, they get married and have a wonderful life together. While Gale secretly learns how to undo vampirism (or at least try to make him walk into the sun) Astarion studies and learn how to turn into a bat (and how to fly with the help of Tara of course). One day he succeeds and Gale is surprised to come back home (after an exhausting but fulfilling lesson with his students) to see a cute white bat flying around the living room and squeaking in excitement while Tara cheers him. Gale of course is so proud of him that he even asks if he can show it to his students (but would respect if Astarion wasn't feeling it). Their evenings consists in reading books together while holding lovingly their free hand (some books may have been acquired by Astarion via some rare rogue activities but hey, any book worth stealing if he can see Gale's face lit up with joy and exiting infodumping) or doing their hobbies in front of the chimney (Gale happily knitting and Astarion humming a tune while doing embroidery).

Depending on what Astarion wants to do when he can finally walk back into the sun, he will either come back as a magistrate (this time more careful/helpful) or open a tailor's shop and make beautiful dresses. I bet in the latter he would be hungry for any gossip he can get from his clientele and from partaking lunch (or tea time) with Morena (she adores and spoils him of course) Withers and Tara.

And obviously, they are the cool uncle and wine aunt couple of the Dekarios. You ask them to babysit your child? Get ready to have your kids begging to come back to them again soon because they had a great time.

Enjoy this sweet Bloodweave my friend 👌😌

This paints such a wholesome, beautiful picture. Oh gosh, thank you so much, it's such a gift 😭💜

They would do all these things, yes! A normal, quiet life (with an occasional book heist to liven things up a bit for Astarion!), them expanding upon Gale's wine collection, Gale treating his husband with the best home-made meals to ever exist.

Them discussing the best way to handle the vampiric condition, but Gale always making it clear Astarion's comfort and safety come first.

And gods, yes, the image of him actually mastering his bat form and flying around the tower with Tara is insanely precious! I'm sure it would be her, not Gale, that pushed him to try! 💜

And yes, Astarion returning to 'daylight society' as a tailor was planted in my brain by a series of wonderful art pieces I saw some time ago and can't let it go. It would be so good for him. Like you said, the gossip? Exquisite. Also the ability to give something of himself to so many people?

To make matching outfits for Gale and himself for all kinds of social gatherings? He would make sure they would be the talk of Waterdeep for *weeks*.

But we know Gale would support his every endeavor, so no matter what he would choose they would still be leading their best, happy lives.

#I needed this so badly #thank you for this #truly blessed 💜 #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #bloodweave #bg3

[mercurial-cool]

***Just posted Chapter 7 of my Astarion/Gale BG3 fic on AO3!***

~~~

Ambrosia (or: How Gale Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb)

Pairing: Astarion/Gale (aka Bloodweave)

Word Count: 33k

Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content; dubious consent

Chapter Summary: 

“Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss: your friend.” It was not a surprise when the drow’s attention eventually turned more directly to Astarion, though it raised Gale’s hackles nonetheless. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn, at least.”

Gale felt Astarion stiffen slightly beside him, though his voice was all performative cheer when he responded.

“Oh, don’t worry! We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did. I assume he belongs to you?” She turned to Gale, who felt deeply caught out all of the sudden by her gaze, though he did not move to create any distance between Astarion and himself. 'I belong to him, actually' was the first thought that flitted, unbidden, across his mind – though he pressed it down quickly, leaning instead into the increasingly familiar anger her question provoked.

“He belongs to no one other than himself, actually,” he responded, his voice a hard edge.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion #astarion/gale #gale/astarion #bloodweave #fanfic

[chainsawmascara]

We don't discuss orpheus and kith'rak voss enough.

They were roommates. They were doomed.

The nerve of bg3 fans calling bloodweave old man yaoi when these two are RIGHT. HERE.

On the real, were i not so sleep deprived, i have a great many thoughts and pained feelings about them, their bond, the potential of their story, the way they speak to each other. I'd like to dive deeply into it. I haven't the faintest if anything I've written already carries a vague sense of coherency. Another day, perhaps.

For now. Someone commiserate with me in regards to these gith men, their common goal, the bond they share, and gods know how long they've known each other. They speak as friends. Was voss there the day orpheus was chained? Was voss there and forced to turn traitor? Only to spend eons awaiting his chance to make things right? Was voss there to watch vlaakith subjugate orpheus, knowing he had no power over either? Hopelessly watching? Horrified by what he could not prevent? Eons he's spent seeking ways to free orpheus. Eons. Hiding, lying, mapping his plans in the skies, waiting. How many millennia until he's free again?

Will he remember me?

Will he know i fought for him?

Will he know i would have stopped her had i the power?

Will he know the heights of heresy I've arranged from the depths of our bond?

#kith'rak voss #orpheus #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #it's 1am and I'm v tired and i have no idea if this is coherent #at all #i haven't played any endings without using the emperor or having orpheus turn #someone tell me how the reunion with voss goes if orpheus remains a gith #bc they were ROOMMATES #AND YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE #THEY WOUND ME. #it's not about a ship it's about their devotion i JUST #I JUST #I J U S T #UGH #THEY DESERVE SO MUCH MORE #I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY

[i-made-a-bg3-blog]

My BloodWeave Fics

I'm really not good at self-promoting, but I thought I would put the links all in one place in case anyone is ever looking for that sort of thing. I have also changed my AO3 username to Viela!

UNRAVELING SERIES (4/6 IN PROGRESS)

Early Access Canon exploring Gale's growing obsession with Astarion and the undernegotiated dom/sub relationship they embark on.

Unraveling (7767 words) by chogiwonderful_you

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Baldur's Gate

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Gale (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate), Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)

Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Character Study, Dom/sub, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Gale's massive ego, Dom Gale, sub Astarion, Painplay, Light Choking, Undernegotiated Kink, poor bdsm etiqutte, Early Access Canon

Series: Part 1 of Unraveling

Summary:

'Astarion was a half-drowned cat backed into a corner, clawing indiscriminately. But Gale knew how to coax a cat, let it give him pieces of its trust one by one until it might lay its head in his lap.'

Abyss (2840 words) by chogiwonderful_you

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Baldur's Gate

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Additional Tags: established D/s relationship, Gale's massive ego, semi-detailed discussion of past rape/non-con, Trauma, Threats of Bodily Harm, Astarion as a content warning, Canon Divergence, very unhealthy relationships, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Early Access

Series: Part 2 of Unraveling

Summary:

Gale made to stand up. Astarion would need time to glower and ruminate, to despise Gale and crave him in turns. Besides, Gale wasn’t above making a dramatic exit.

 

“Is it my turn now?” Astarion asked.

 

Gale stilled. How could he not be intrigued by that?

 

The book reads you as much as you read it. Gale really should have remembered that.

You Can Call Me Monster (6715 words) by chogiwonderful_you

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Baldur's Gate

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Gale (Baldur's Gate), Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)

Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Established Dom/Sub relationship, Dom Gale, sub Astarion, Consensual Non-Consent, Safeword Use, rape fantasy (initiated by Astarion), Very rough sex, No Aftercare, Top Drop, Panic Attacks, very toxic relationshops, Obsession, Posessive Behavior, Canon Divergence, Early Access

Series: Part 3 of Unraveling

Summary:

There was a horrible, breathtaking truth that even Gale couldn’t bury.

Gale didn’t want Cazador to have Astarion in any way he couldn’t.

Will-o'-wisp (4866 words) by chogiwonderful_you

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Characters: Gale (Baldur's Gate), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)

Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gale's Canonical Temporary Character Death, Gale has an existential crisis and fucks Astarion about it, banter(?), Astarion doms a little, Astarion's love language is death threats, sex as a character study you all know the drill, Possessive Behavior, Established Dom/sub, Canon Divergence-ish, they don't talk about their issues even a little

Series: Part 4 of Unraveling

Summary:

“What was it like? When you died?”

 

“Well, seeing as I was bleeding out in a filthy alley, I’m going to go with…unpleasant. But that’s not really what you’re asking, is it?”

OTHER FICS

Altruism and Other Loosely Defined Terms (3905 words) by chogiwonderful_you

Chapters: 2/2

Fandom: Baldur's Gate

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Additional Tags: Dark Comedy, Domestic Fluff (?), post-game? au? who knows?, Crack, i can conceive of no universe in which Gale and Astarion are not kinky af, some sexual content but mostly fade to black, descriptions of violence, briefly referenced domestic violence toward OC by OC, very brief attempted rape of OC by OC, Astarion as a content warning

Summary:

"Me? A vigilante? That's your grand solution?"

Five Stars (9913 words) by Viela Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Gale (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: silly modern au, rating changed to reflect new chapter, assholes flirting, meet ugly, courthouse public bathroom blowjobs, a series of vignettes with sporadic updates, very mild brat/brat tamer vibes(for now), Astarion is a Little shit, astarion is allergic to feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, Non-Linear Narrative, exclusivity negotiations but make it two assholes, First Fight, actual communication, gale is ludicrously rich Summary: “A more suspicious man might think you’re dating me for my Uber rating.”   In which Astarion is a smug, asshole lawyer, and Gale is the rich jerk who falls for him.

#I'm so sorry if this is too much or too long or annoying! #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bloodweave #bloodweave fic #gale/astarion

[justalittle-mad]

Hello hello~! It's time for my biweekly plug of the 18+ Bloodweave Haven Discord Server! Are you interested in being part of a friendly and welcoming community where you can discuss Bloodweave and BG3? How about a place to share artwork and fanfiction? Then come check us out!

Now with a mini bang or "quickie" taking place - sign-ups open at this time!

#bloodweave #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #bg3

[dreamingofthewild]

After that post, I got thinking about Bloodweave again. Specifically the way Gale loves and how he would be just as a good fit for Astarion as Karlach, Wyll, or Halsin.

Gale's devotion to his loved one is absolute. He's a kind-hearted soul— the very reason he could summon Tara. He's willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. In an origin run, he proclaims, "...one wizard for the whole of Faerun seems like a fair trade to me."

Gale may not be your typical storybook prince or hero, but his hopeless romanticism shines through a belief in altruism and selflessness. This is a man who says things like "you put the stars to shame" and "with you, I forget my goddess." His devotion transcends physicality, even embracing a romanced, illithid-infected Tav. No mere 'gosh' escapes him when facing the reality of Durge's Bhaalspawn heritage.

Gale approves of helping people, and two of his mini-romance scenes are after you have saved someone. He can only be manipulated into joining you in an evil playthrough because of the orb in his chest. He is a good man, a good man who cried because he accidentally burnt a neighbours rose bush when he was 8.

His love is rooted in personality, not appearances. Gale values commitment, believing sex is an act of profound connection between body and soul. He's the antithesis of the shallow encounters Astarion's was forced to endure. Gale's steadfastness would have made him an unlikely victim for Astarion's seductions. A fact that annoys me in a Gale origin run, as you should be able to say that you can't have sex like you can in a Karlach origin run.

Astarion would find Gale's authenticity refreshing. He doesn't need to put on an act in front of Gale. In fact, Gale prefers the truth. Gale, ever kind, would even offer to help kill Cazador without asking for anything in return. That's simply who he is.

Astarion needs someone selfless, patient, and understanding – qualities Gale possesses in abundance. A romanced Astarion, in turn, deeply cares for his partner once his masked as slipped, and he realises that he is in love (albeit I haven't played his romance out yet).

He repeatedly encourages Gale to think independently ("Where is Gale's will?") and challenges his self-sacrificial tendencies.

Their bond grows over books and shared interests. Contrary to belief, a romanced Astarion would not want Gale to ascend to Godhood. A romanced Astarion would selfishly want Gale to himself.

I'm convinced Gale offers a fulfilling romance for any companion.

Gale and Wyll are not too different. If one is a good fit for Astarion, then so is the other. And if Astarion is a good fit for one, then he is a good fit for the other.

Saying that Gale is too easily corruptible or morally ambiguous to be "good enough" for Astarion is really doing an injustice to Gale. Gale is kind-hearted and morally sound enough to encourage Astarion to be a better person. Gale is neutral good, just like Wyll is. Gale's actions always have good intentions behind them.

Also, I'm not saying people have to like Bloodweave, but I just understand that there are often deeper reasons people like the ship.

#bg3 #bloodweave #queued post #character analysis #I just think Gale is neat #I could be misremembering but I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that Wyll and Gale's characters were inspired by the same character trope #Until they decided to create two different characters #I may write a post about their similarities #bloodweave discussion #As a Galemancer I don't like the implication that Gale wouldn't be good enough for Astarion #I want to tag the characters but I don’t want to annoy people

[sybaritick]

best of!

I was tagged by @say-lene (who is absolutely one of the best writers in this fandom) to discuss a few pieces of fic that best exemplify my writing/style/personality. So here are my thoughts! :D

4 - At Knifepoint [Astarion/Gale, 2.4k, E]

Astarion's face was cruel and angular in the half-light of the darkened library, stark shadows cast across his features, lips curled into a teasing smile. The Dispel Magic spell rushed over him faster than he could answer it, dark and sour like a sickening wave, and the invisibility curled away from his body like the burnt edge of a newspaper.

I love to play with the contrast between what the rational brain wants and what the stupid horny subby brain wants and this fic absolutely goes in on that. We like a little fearplay and horror and Gale's guilty lust for being eaten. It was for an exchange to go with this incredible artwork!

3 - that urge often miscalled 'free will' [Gortash/Gale, 4.3k, E]

Gale thinks, for an odd second, that he can feel the flow of data pour into his throat and spread through his limbs, an anesthetic tingling in his veins, drowsy and even. He knows it’s nothing of the sort. That was the sort of foolish thing one might have pictured as a child, but data is weightless and instant and empty, and no zeroes and ones fill his veins. Enver watches from his chair, glancing between Gale and the computer while he makes his cryptic little adjustments. He has a leg tucked under him, a thick-soled work boot wedged under the opposite thigh.  Gale feels the fingers of his right hand flex and pull involuntarily, and the hand balls up into a fist that makes his nails bite into his palm for a good second before releasing. “Sorry, I’m not sure–” Gale starts, before looking over at Gortash, who has the hint of a smile curling onto his lips. Enver responds wordlessly, typing something blunt and fast and watching as the fingers of Gale’s other hand flex in turn, one by one. “A bit of manual testing for that faster transmission of reflexes I suggested,” Enver says. “Pardon me for the lack of warning.” Gale feels the swell of fear like an ignoble tightness in his throat that makes it irresponsible to swallow.

Am I bold enough to put a fic I just posted last night in my "best of"? Yes. It was this or Incentives for Compliance and this one exemplifies my issues even more. :) i love writing about the horror of losing control of your own mind and body and this fic is Very Clearly About That. oh and it also has that relentlessly horny pussy description that's important:

He slots in the vulva, running a thumb over the plump hairy outer lips, just ghosting over the inner folds peeking through in soft ripples, across the mons fat and rounded above; a beautiful match to Gale’s form.

2 - oh, rotten little thing [Astarion/Gale, 1.9k, M]

“So you admit it,” Astarion said, pulling his hand back. “Naughty thing. I bet so little power wouldn't be nearly enough to sate it. Perhaps I’m just an appetizer, then. Something to whet its appetite before you hunt down a wizard for your main course." "If you’re so certain it’s developed its own sort of vampirism, I would think you’d be more careful," Gale warned. "And I'm certainly not willing to consume the Weave of a person the way I would an object– if such a thing is even possible." "Oh, I think you would," Astarion answered gleefully. “If it’s you or another? If the alternative is the bomb in your chest leveling the entirety of Baldur’s Gate?”

This is probably my favorite bloodweave fic I've written because it gets to something I enjoy a lot about their personalities-- the way an unhealthy Astarion might take pleasure in luring Gale to be "worse", to dragging Gale down to his own level, and the way Gale has his pride but also a certain practicality and is more willing than he'd like to admit to bend his ethical principles a bit. There's also some great banter in this one which I really enjoy.

1 - Tephra Year [Gortash/Gale, 25k+, E]

and Highharvestide [Gortash/Gale, 3.9k, M]!

In the heat of the moment all he could imagine was that Gortash found this all the more desirable. A nice, fat, pliable mage to bury his cock in and rule the city with. What would they become, if Gortash's plans came to fruition? Gale was not naïve enough to believe his ambitions stopped at becoming Archduke of Baldur's Gate.  He'd be kept neck-deep in vile projects while Enver’s influence swallowed up each little town along the Chionthar. He had no doubt the Black Hand had designs on the rest of the Sword Coast. He'd set his sights on Waterdeep, and perhaps Gale was just another piece of his claim, another spoil of war, a pretty souvenir from the City of Splendors.

this fic is essentially designed to contain most of my favorite topics, tropes, and kinks, from the relatively ordinary (power imbalance, transmasc dom, manipulation, the tension between what you want and what you wish you wanted) to the weirder and more specific (feeding + weight gain as domestication, guilty masturbation over things you are morally opposed to, classism, politics, questions of guilt and responsibility/Whose Fault Is This Really?, transhumanism and evil biotech).

as for throwing in Highharvestide... I would be remiss not to include at least one overtly feedist fic when it's definitely the kink I'm most "known" for (and the one I know some of you are following me for. 😉) I was truly torn between featuring this and catalyst, but I think this one better exemplifies what I am really here for... feeding as a power game, fattening as domestication, how appealing Gale's new softness might be to a partner...

for that reason i have taken a lot of joy in writing Tephra Year + its side story/ies. I think my enthusiasm comes through and makes the piece even better than my usual work :)

---

and I will tag, if they're interested: @tuffgreg, @chronurgy, @archduke-enver-gortash, and @spellmage! :D (hopefully I managed to pick people who haven't been tagged yet, I tried to!)

#cal txt #fandom #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #my writing

[sadinasaphrite]

Friday Nights Ch 5

If anyone missed it, Chapter five of my Bloodweave Professor Gale AU went up two days ago.

Read on AO3!

“For Thursday, please review your study guides and come prepared with any questions! Our final exam is one week from today, Tuesday at 10:30,” Gale shouted over the sound of his students gathering up their things and leaving. “Please make use of the study groups! If you need accommodations, please email me or come talk during my office hours!”

As his students filed out of the lecture hall, Mystra walked in and Gale was struck by a sick sense of deja vu. He ignored her and packed up his notes and laptop. The sharp click of heels approached him.

“Gale.”

Gale looked up and pretended to be surprised.

“What’s this? Mystra! My goodness, I didn’t know you still worked here! I’ve certainly not seen your face since you broke my heart.”

Mystra sighed and folded her arms. “I suppose it was too much to expect you to be mature about this.”

“Who’s being immature?” Gale asked with a huff. “Apart from a few curt emails, you’ve been avoiding me since you tried to ruin my life last semester.”

“Don’t pretend this is my fault, Gale. You did this to yourself,” Mystra said, infuriatingly calm and collected. She held up a hand as Gale started to protest. “And I’m not going to argue the point. I’m not here to talk about that.”

“Then why are you here, Mystra?” Gale snapped.

“The artifact is being transferred to another institution,” she said. “I need to know if you have any remaining research notes.”

Gale stopped as if he’d been slapped.

“Transferred?” He asked. “You didn’t crack it? Where is it going?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” she said. “Your research notes?”

“I gave everything I had to Khelben. But give me until tomorrow and I can write up everything about how this curse has affected me.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mystra said. “We aren’t divulging what your little failed experiment did.”

“What!?” Gale hadn’t meant to shout, and by the look on Mystra’s face, she was as surprised as he was.

“Surely you don’t want more institutions to know how badly you failed?” Mystra asked, recovering quickly. “Are you actually asking I spread your folly through the arcane academic community like gossip?”

“Well… no, but—”

“Then we have nothing more to discuss.” Mystra turned away.

“—but I was under the impression you were researching the cause and cure for my condition along with the artifact!” Gale followed after her. “You told me to keep it quiet, I assumed you were doing something about it!”

“There’s nothing to be done, Gale. You’ll just need to accept you won’t have the arcane power you used to have.”

“Power? You think that’s all this is? You think consuming my magic stores is all that’s happened? My blood is black!” Gale roared at her retreating back.

Mystra stopped.

“I’ve been ignoring it because you asked me to. Because I thought you were doing something to help. I foolishly assumed you wouldn’t just hang me out to dry, that everything we had still meant something, even if it was over. That I wasn’t just being cast aside and forgotten.” Gale let out a shaking breath and continued. “Whenever I stop to think about it, whenever I stop pretending everything is fine, I’m terrified. I don’t know what it’s doing to me. What if I’m dying?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I? How do you know? You said this thing is feeding off me. Is it really only feeding on my magic? What else is it doing? Why is my blood black? How long do I have left to live?”

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Mystra said, turning around. “If you stop to think—”

“Oh, I assure you, I have,” Gale interrupted. “I’m quite positive that I’ve given more thought to this than you.”

“I have thought about it,” Mystra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “However, for the good of the university—”

“Then I hope the university helps my mother pay for the funeral,” Gale snapped. “I’ll let her know to send you the bill.”

“Gale, don’t be like that,” Mystra said. “Despite what you may think of me, I do still worry about you. When I think of you alone in that condo…”

“Oh, I’m not alone.” A swell of warmth filled Gale’s chest, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of smug vindictiveness.

Mystra rolled her eyes. “When I think of you and your tressym, alone in your condo—”

“We’re not alone,” Gale continued. “I know you think highly of yourself, but I have someone else now. He’s been living with me for months. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have office hours I need to attend.”

He brushed past her.

“Gale, wait!”

He let the door close in her face and retreated to his office, feeling quite pleased with himself. To hell with this. He didn’t need her help. He’d manage on his own.

Keep reading on AO3!

#baldur's gate 3 #Astarion #Gale of Waterdeep #Bloodweave #BG3 #My Drabbles

[ollypopwrites]

From Depths Unknown ; Part 4

Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Part 3 ⚜ Ao3

Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.

Rating: E

Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (discussion of injuries), Discussions of Death & the afterlife, background Bloodweave.

Chapter Summary:

Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 

Notes: Fuck it lets update two days in a row. This series will end at Part 6, I've decided. Thanks for going on this journey with me so far.

The last thing Tav remembered was pain.

The sun came up, and Lae’zel flew off astride a dragon into its bright glow. When she had faded away into the distance, Tav remembered staring at the spot where Karlach and Wyll had stepped through a portal to the hells. Someone had said something about the sun, and then the trail of deep gashes in her torso throbbed with mind numbing pain. Everything was blank after that. 

In the back of her mind in the fugue plane, she knew she was dead. It was nothingness, all senses and concepts slipped away. But her mind seemed to drift in a state of waiting for something to happen. What it was she could not remember. Flashes of faces were fuzzy, and the emotions they elicited were whispers. Time was unknowable, this state of absence could have been decades or seconds and Tav would not be able to tell the difference. 

Something pulled, tugging at the edges of whatever was left of her. 

First was amber colored warmth that seemed to seep into the center of the nebulous state of her, it beckoned: come back to me. She wanted to, letting the sensation fill her and start the spark of life. Tav felt her spirit be cupped in soft cooling hands, not diminishing the warmth, but an additional soothing touch, the color of silver wrapping around the amber glow.

 A sharp white shock of lightning spread through the shape of a body she forgot she had - a deep rumbling in her newly found chest, and the cool wash of rain on her face. They were separate entities, but she could not quite tell what or who they were. She trusted them, letting them pull her until  the combined efforts made the nebulous shapes she could see become clear. Faces. 

Rolan’s scarlet skin, freckles hiding under dirt and ash, with his dark hair slipping out of its neat tie at the back of his head. His eyes were wide, the yellow glow against the darkness of his sclera was a lovely sight. And Shadowheart, frowning with intense focus, her pretty green eyes bright and watery. Jaheira’s even stare was just over Shadowheart’s shoulder, and Halsin’s brow tipped in concern towering above both of the women. 

As if she was underwater, the familiar need to breach a surface and breathe overtook her. 

Her whole body had been a livewire of sensation when the air hit her lungs. Most of them were unpleasant: pain and nausea and exhaustion. Tav hardly comprehended what she said and saw, she just remembered being told she could finally rest and then everything went black again. 

Consciousness came to her slowly. But this was different than before. She was just waking up, like every other day in her life.

“Coming back from the dead, being suddenly tadpole free, the physical damage — these things are hard on the body on their own,” she heard a familiar rumbling voice. Halsin. “She’s been fully healed, but she needs rest.” 

“Are we certain there’s no lasting damage?” Another familiar voice. Deep, crisply accented and comforting despite the shortness of tone. Rolan. “That I didn’t… didn’t do the resurrection wrong?”

Her eyes opened. Above her was the canopy of an ostentatious four post bed, her eyes took in a painting of a celestial sky framed by gold filigrees. It smelled of magic, rosewater and sage, and something else — something familiar but unnameable. As her mind came to her, she felt the need to move her fingers,taking in the sensation of her touch on the soft fabric of velvet blankets. Beneath her body was a plush, comfortable, mattress. 

She ached. There was an absence in her psyche that at first was confusing — it was just her. No Emperor, no companions, no pounding resonation of the Elder Brain. 

“Tav?” 

Rolan’s face hovered over her. He looked as intense as ever, but it was softened by his eyes. Just as before, wide and comforting in their warmth. Her lips cracked, a slight sting accompanying the leisurely smile that took over her face. 

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hello,” he smiled a little. 

“Is it over?” It’s all she could think to say, voice rough and dry.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, you did it.” 

“What happened?”

“You —“ he swallowed, his smile dropping instantly. Whatever it was he couldn’t seem to say. 

“What can you remember?” Halsin asked, making look over to the foot of the bed where he stood. 

Tav wracked her brain. They were falling, they were in the water, they were on the dock. Lae’zel flew off on a red dragon, and named Tav liberator. Karlach’s heart almost gave out, but Wyll and her jumped into a portal before it could happen. Tav remembered frantically begging her to keep living, promising they would find a way to bring them back. Astarion… oh gods, Astarion. 

He didn’t have the tadpole. He was out in the sun. 

“Astarion — “ she asked Halsin, “is he okay?”

“He ran into the shadows,” Halsin said evenly, “wherever he is, Gale is with him.”

“But where are they?”

“We haven’t seen them,” Halsin’s brow furrowed. 

“Shadowheart?” Tav asked, eyes clenched shut. 

“Downstairs with the healers.” Rolan assured her.

Tav let out a shuddering breath. “And —“

“Jaheira and Minsc are helping to organize the rebuilding efforts,” Halsin informed her. “You gave us quite the scare,” he smiled a little at her. “You should have mentioned your wounds.”

That’s right. Throughout the adrenaline fueled panic to just keep everyone alive at the very end, Tav had forgotten an intellect devourer had nearly disemboweled her. She had taken quite a few hits besides that as well, shrugged off in the heat of battle. The onslaught of the Netherbrain’s psionic powers had made her brain feel like it would leak out of her ears. All in all, she had been truly fucked up by the end of it all.

“I died.”

Halsin nodded. 

Tav licked her lips, but her tongue was just as dry as her lips. Only a few of their party had to be resuscitated on the road. Withers was there for exactly that, and she never worried too much about it, saving all their resurrection scrolls for allies that Withers had deemed not necessary to maintain in the fight. Only their core group were tied to the ultimate fate, and after that was finished she imagined he had to maintain the balance of life and death. 

“I remember  something pulling me,” she closed her eyes. “Pulling me out of — water? No… it was nothing.”

“A resurrection scroll,” Rolan finally spoke. “I used a resurrection scroll to bring you back.” 

Tav looked over at him, wanting to ease the worry that creased his handsome face. “My hero.”

He closed his eyes, a smile twitching at his lips as he exhaled a breath that might have been a laugh. Her heart felt fit to burst.  “You’re an idiot.”

Tav sat up, a wave of dizziness overcoming her so she toppled to the side. Rolan had a hand on her shoulder, and an arm at her back. Nausea flooded her, and she took a deep breath. 

“It may take some time for you to get your bearings.” Halsin told her. “You were lost to us for quite some time, your body needs to adjust to the shifting states.”

“Not to mention the side effects from the tadpoles being removed,” Rolan added. “Shadowheart’s been struggling with headaches, and fatigue. You need to rest.”

“Can I see her?” 

“She will want to know you’re awake.” Halsin said with a nod and left the room. 

“Where are we? The tower?”

“Yes,” Rolan was trying to ease her down but she wanted to will herself to feel better. 

With a truly pathetic shove she managed to sling her legs over and out of the covers. Her feet slowly met the plush rug that covered the stone floor, and she stood. Well she tried to: she got up to her feet and then felt her legs give out. Rolan grunted as he grabbed her around the waist, tugging her against him to keep her from falling.

“Please, Tav, lay down,” he insisted. 

“I want to see the city,” she pleaded. 

There was an open door to the terrace right there, she could see the clear blue sky of an afternoon. Rolan folded with a sharp sigh and helped steady her as she took a step, then another, weakly and slowly but she was not going to be denied the chance to see it. 

At the railing of the terrace, she gripped it with weak hands, Rolan just behind her with an arm firmly wrapped around her waist. He wasn’t letting her get too close to the edge. The city was in a bad state, many buildings in the lower half were destroyed, and the upper city was near unrecognizable. The tower was tall, but she could see people below. Carrying lumber and stones, running back and forth with supplies, building and walking around. 

“We did it.” She breathed. “We did it.” 

Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. 

He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 

“You should be laying down,” he ground out past the lump in his throat after a few moments. 

“Okay.” 

But neither of them moved. 

“Can we sit out here ? Just for a little bit?”

Rolan heaved a sigh, more for show than out of true irritation. He helped her maneuver into a chair, and she seemed grateful to be off of her feet. There was only one chair on the terrace, and Rolan found himself standing by it, ready to steady her if needed, afraid to wander too far. Tav took in the feeling of the sun, the sounds of the city below and took a few deep breaths. Rolan could only watch her. 

Her dead gaze had stuck with him, so he tried to replace it with the current view of her eyes scanning the city below. He had  found himself constantly checking that her chest had been moving with breaths while she rested, he was clinging to the proof she was alive and moving around now. Rolan’s tail wrapped around her ankle again, and she leaned over to look at it with a small laugh.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” 

The new voice had him jumping out of his skin in shock. As if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his face flushed a deeper red, his tail unraveling from its grip. 

Shadowheart was in the doorway, a bright grin betraying her teasing tone. “Five months on the road,” she said to Tav, “and you die on me at the last second.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Tav replied. 

“Apology accepted,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. 

This was a far different reaction to when Tav had been brought into the tower. The reality of the situation was made clear by the true panic in the cleric’s normally calm and detached demeanor. They looked at each other for a moment as if in some silent conversation. After a while Tav ducked her head. 

“Feels strange, not having you bouncing around in my brain,” she said. 

“It’s both a relief and… a loss, somehow. I never thought I’d miss anything about the tadpoles.”

“Guess we just have to talk to each other like normal people, eh?”

Rolan felt he was intruding and went back into the bedroom, taking a moment to recollect himself. Halsin was there, a nod of understanding offered in his direction. Neither of them truly knew the experience of sharing a consciousness, not in that way. It seemed to be something that Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Tav would always have to bind them.

“Jaheira tells me you’ll be relocating some of the orphaned children near Reithwin,” Rolan cleared his throat. 

“It’s a peaceful place now that the curse has been lifted, and there’s plenty of space for them to grow,” he nodded. “As the Grove was for you, I hope to build a place of refuge for anyone who wishes to leave the city.”

“Whatever you may need for the journey, you need only ask.” 

Halsin thanked him with a nod. “It suits you, this position. Archmage of Baldur’s Gate ,” he smiled a little, “the title should go to someone who has overcome adversity. Someone who knows the value of what he has.”

Rolan was not so certain. “I’m not an archmage yet,” he said. “I still have much to learn.” 

“As you say,” Halsin smiled. 

Rolan looked over his shoulder, out at the terrace where Shadowheart and Tav were still deep in conversation. Rolan knew that whatever they were discussing, was meant for them alone to hear. “The tower has an impressive greenhouse, but I’d like to get an expert's opinion on how to improve it.”

Halsin smiled tiredly, all at once looking like a man who had lived centuries. “Any glimpse of nature  you have to offer would be quite the solace to me.”

“So Selune did hear me,” Shadowheart said quietly, eyes averted. “I had no magic left. I had revivify prepared for this reason but — “ she shook her head. “I prayed she would give me some way to save you.”

“Her and something else certainly heard you,” Tav leaned back. “I almost… don’t know what to do now.” 

“You aren’t doing anything,” Shadowheart admonished. “At least another day or two of rest, then you can think about the future.”

“You’re rested,” Tav smiled. “What will you do?”

“Help around here for a bit longer,” Shadowheart looked over the city. “After that, maybe follow Halsin. He wants to head back towards the mountain pass, taking some refugees with him, I could settle there or… explore.”

“Exploring suits you,”  Tav smiled, “selfishly, I’d wish you wouldn’t go far but… my little Selunite has to spread her wings.”

After a while the afternoon shifted into night, and the two of them sent a quiet prayer of thanks to Selune as the moon rose into the sky. Tav had never been the religious type and their journey had only solidified her resolve to respect the gods from afar. The entire mess of the Absolute had been designed for The Dead Three, Mystra’s involvement had not quite inspired awe in her given that it required one of her best friends killing himself, and everything with Shar spoke for itself. But she appreciated Selune’s more distant approach to aiding them; it certainly had caused them less strife.

Arm looped in Shadowheart’s for sake of steadiness (Tav had an inkling her friend was feeling affectionate but would not admit it) Tav had met with the small group gathered for dinner. Cal barely maintained his composure while he gave her a gentle hug, Lia lingered a little in her arms, while Halsin smiled on. Rolan was hovering nearby, and looked ready to scold his siblings. 

“Don’t crowd her,” he insisted. 

“I don’t mind,” she smiled, patting Lia on the back of the head. “It’s been a rough journey to get here, yeah?” She looked at the tiefling in her embrace who was a bit misty eyed. “But we’re fine! And I’m starving. Being dead works up quite the appetite.”

Everyone but Rolan seemed to find the joke at least a little funny, but she was used to him looking bothered by her. She was happy to see his eye twitch in the face of her jokes. Despite her appetite, after filling her stomach and drinking nearly an entire pitcher of water to herself she was quite sleepy. But there was some business she had to see to. 

“Has anyone looked for Gale and Astarion?”

“There’s been a lot of healing work to do,” Shadowheart said, “wherever they are I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I’d like to see it for myself,” Tav said seriously. “They’re the only ones left, Shadowheart, I want to know they’re okay.”

Shadowheart shook her head a little. “I can start a search party, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Tav didn’t like this answer. “If it were us —“

“No,” Shadowheart cut her off. “You died. It was just me, Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc. They know there’s only so many places we could be — and they still haven’t turned up.”

It hurt to hear it said out loud. Tav was trying not to be selfish, but Shadowheart was right. It did feel a bit like the two had abandoned them. At least Karlach, Wyll and Lae’zel had an excuse for leaving moments after their victory. The sun went down every night, Astarion and Gale could have made their way back days ago. 

Shadowheart specifically must have felt slighted. The late arrival of Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc did not make them any less a part of the team but Astarion and Gale were the first they had met after the nautiloid crash. The four of them had been together since day one of the nightmare. For them to just go missing on her when she needed them most had to sting. 

Aware of the tension in the room, Tav offered a tired smile, not wanting to drag the conversation out any longer. “Alright.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Shadowheart frowned. 

“I’m not in charge anymore,” Tav sighed as she rubbed at her eyes, “and I’m too tired to argue right now. When I’m all rested, I’ll figure something out.”

For a minute, it looked like Shadowheart was trying to concentrate on something, brow furrowing with the attempt. And then blinked a few times as if she caught herself. 

“There’s no more tadpoles, Shadowheart,” Tav found herself laughing a bit, “can’t poke around in each other's heads anymore.”

“I know — I forgot,” she shook her head. 

“I think,” Halsin said, “it’s time for you to rest, Tav. You’re still —“

“Recovering, yeah, I know.” She stood up from the table. 

A loud scraping sound happened the moment she got to her feet as Rolan rose from his chair suddenly, nearly knocking it over. “I’ll walk you.”

“Thank you.” Tav said with raised eyebrows, seeing Lia cover her face and Cal grin out of the corner of her eye. “Goodnight, everyone.”

Rolan did not ask, but simply placed her arm in the crook of his elbow as he led her out. The tower was big, and as the halls went on she was more and more looking forward to laying down in a bed. Her strength felt sapped still, her legs a bit wobbly after sitting for so long. The food in her stomach satiated her, but it brought with it the desire to close her eyes. 

“I can’t wait to feel normal again,” she said. 

“No need to rush,” he replied. 

“There’s a lot to do,” Tav insisted. “And I’m useless.”

“Gods forbid the Savior of the Gate stop for once.”

“That title has a nice ring to it, when did you come up with that?”

“I didn’t,” he smiled, “it’s what everyone is calling you and your friends. The Saviors of the Gate.”

“Oh.”

They certainly had received a lot of thanks and praises over the last few months. For everyone in such a big city to know her name, to be discussing the journey she and her friends had been on was odd. She was not quite sure how she felt about being so… known. 

As he led her into the same room she had woken in, she slid onto the bed with a groan. She shuffled until she was under the covers, taking deep contented breaths as she buried her face in the pillows. This bed was more heavenly than even her own back home, and she was so grateful for it.

“Are all the beds in the tower this comfy?”

“Knowing Lorroakan, he probably saved the best for himself,” Rolan said.

“That must be your new bed,” Tav turned over to look at him. “Is it heaven? Just a big magical cloud of relaxation?”

“Erm,” Rolan shifted on his feet. “It is, yes, but —“ he cleared his throat, “but you’ll have to tell me. You’ve been sleeping in it.”

Tav was confused. “This is your bed?”

“It is.”

“You gave up your bed for me?” Tav asked, “why?”

Rolan stood somewhat awkwardly, hands at his sides. “I wanted you to be comfortable.”

“That’s sweet,” Tav smiled. “Are you sure you’re not a doppleganger? Did some straggling Bhaalists get to you?”

He eased up at the teasing, looking more comfortable. “I’ll remember not to show you any consideration in the future. Such a lack of gratitude.” He was smiling. 

“You’re one to talk about lacking gratitude,” she smiled back, eyes closed now. She was so tired. “I can never win with you.”

“And yet here you are in my bed, while I toss and turn in a guest room.”

“Poor Rolan,” she replied. “So very put out by his little hero.”

“Indeed.”

He was shutting off again, she could tell by the closed tone. “I am sorry,” she replied, eyes opening, “I honestly do feel like I’ve put everyone out.”

“You saved the city,” he looked befuddled. “You died saving it.”

“Could have done better,” she muttered. Her thoughts going to Karlach and Wyll, and to Astarion now confined to the shadows. 

“We both know that’s far from the truth,” he said softly. “I — I thought it wouldn’t work — the resurrection.”

“I worried you.” 

Part of her knew in the back of her mind that was true, but he was such a hard puzzle to figure out. Sometimes she was sure he thought of her the same way she did of him. But he always was at arms length, never giving more than a hint and then closing off immediately after. ‘You’ll come back to me,’ he had told her in the high hall. As if she was his. 

“Worried,” he repeated, a half laugh in amazement. “Yes, I would rather say you did.”

“Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing, go to sleep,” he insisted. 

“Will you stay? Just for a little bit?”

The thought of being left alone was overwhelming, she had not spent a night alone in months. Rolan searched her face for a moment, then sat on the bed, turned towards her. For a moment he looked unsure what to do with his hands, before deciding to fold them in his lap, his tail flicking gently behind him on the covers. Thanking him quietly, she let herself drift off, eyes closed so she couldn’t see his unwavering gaze on her. 

Tav was bouncing back quickly, he was pleased to see. She had gone from only being able to draft a letter to her mother before needing to lay down for the rest of the day to walking around the upper levels of the tower on her own.  But she was starting to get restless after a day or two. Now that she could stand on her own two feet without someone’s support, she was hard to contain. She had been blocked off from the bottom floor of the tower, since no one trusted her not to get roped into some rebuilding effort before she was ready. 

Rolan was busier than ever. He only had a handful of staff to assist him, and all of them were running around the city to help the recovery efforts. Despite the circumstances and the less than gentle way Jaheira had put it, Rolan realized quickly she had been right about taking on the duty of the city’s Archmage. The tower was a central point in the city, the main source of magical wares and a trove of information.

Rolan didn’t want it to be a museum, he wanted it to be a resource. 

At the end of the day, he would dine with Tav, his siblings and Shadowheart. Halsin joined them every once in a while, but he had given his word to assess just how many orphans were running unattended in the ruined city streets. He was also the only one Yenna would come out of the Elfsong suite for, and he had to make sure she was looked after and fed. After dinner and a healthy amount of wine amongst the small group, Tav had asked him if he had anything that could help get her to the hells. 

Alarm bells rang off in his mind. “We can look into it.” He offered as diplomatically as he knew how. 

“Her engine won’t last here,” Shadowheart reminded Tav. 

There was a stubborn look on Tav’s face, and she replied. “I just want to look into it.”

That night Rolan poured over the library with her.There were portals, an easy enough thing to figure out, but Tav wanted a solution for Karlach’s engine. Infernal engineering was hardly his expertise, and Dammon was up to his horns in work. Rolan also already knew that the blacksmith had exhausted his knowledge to make it so Karlach could touch people once more, making the engine stable in the material plane was, as far as he knew, not possible. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” Tav muttered. 

“Your many talents don’t include infernal engineering?”

“Not yet,” she arched a brow at the book in her hands. 

“Perhaps after things settle down,” Rolan offered, “Dammon could look further into it.” 

It was a poor attempt to make her let it go, even temporarily. And she saw straight through it. 

“You’re trying to placate me,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t think I can do it.”

“What I think you're capable of is irrelevant. You are not a smithy of any kind, and have no firsthand knowledge of the hells let alone the machinery built specifically to withstand its atmosphere,” Rolan said evenly. “I understand the pressure you feel, but you’re one person —“

“No, you don’t understand,” she snapped. “I wasn’t just one person, I was seven. You don’t know what it’s like to feel someone else’s fear as if it were your own, their sadness and joy — to experience their darkest memories, as if you’ve lived them yourself. They trusted me, they looked to me to keep them safe, to keep us on the right path — “ she stopped to take a deep breath, eyes closing as a shaky exhale forced its way out and gave away how affected she was. “Karlach and Wyll should be here.”

Rolan felt the sting of her words deeper than he wanted to admit. An ugly jealousy reared its head; all but one of the six had left her and he was right there and that still wasn’t enough. He never seemed to be up to the task. The urge to lash out was strong; helpless against the scratching in his chest he felt himself get angry. 

“I’ll leave you to your research,” he said shortly. 

The silence was only filled by his footsteps on the tile floor as he made his way out. He passed Shadowheart in the hall as she made her way to her room for the night, offering only a curt nod in her direction as he picked up his pace to avoid conversation. His temper was quickly slipping, and he was sure he’d snap at the next person who would make eye contact with him. He made it to his borrowed room and slammed the door shut behind him. His tail flicked back and forth in sharp, angry movements, hitting the wood of the door with heavy thumps. He needed a distraction. 

Rolan sat at the desk in the small guest room which he had taken to since insisting Tav take the master suite. He grabbed his spell book, dug into the desk drawer for a quill and some ink and opened to his most recent page. Unfinished notes about a telekinesis spell, something he wanted to try to modify to control the trajectory of an object rather than just send it flying backwards. 

A thin chain was nestled in the gutter of the book, carefully attached to his ribbon place marker. The dangling pearl hung over the edge. When she had asked him to keep it safe he knew it needed to be with the one thing he always had with him, and took the greatest care of. His finger ran over the pearl and he winced. 

Gods, I’m a fool, he thought as he flipped to another page. 

Despite the fact that the very mention of her group had sent him into a jealous fervor, and that he was really rather irritated with her, he knew immediately what might cheer her up. And he was not going to stop the impulse to do it. He never did. It felt like insanity. He tried and tried to be exactly what he thought she wanted and never felt it was enough. Time and time again, he went against every instinct of self-preservation he had clung to so desperately his entire life to try and let himself fall further for her. 

Rolan carefully read his notes, going over the incantation, double checking his components, and practicing the hand movements. Once he was more confident he knew what to do, he cast Sending for the first time in his life, thinking hard on the recipient. The rush of the weave molding to his whim sparked the usual comfort, this time punctuated by the hum of the spell awaiting his message. 

“Gale, it’s Rolan. Where the bloody hells have you two been? We are awaiting your hasty return. Tav and Shadowheart are currently at the tower.”

He let some of his irritation bleed into the message. If anyone deserved a bit of his ire, it was those two. Then he waited. The hum of the spell still resonated in his mind as the connection stayed and awaited the reply. 

“Ah, Sending! Clever.” Gale’s downright chipper voice broke through. “Astarion and I were simply working on a solution to — ow! My love, please, I only have twenty-five words! Now, Rolan we —“

The spell cut out, Gale having used a good chunk of his limited verbiage to scold Astarion. Rolan felt a throb in his temple, and rubbed at it. Gale was thus far the most admirable and well-learned wizard he knew. He respected the man more than he could say, but even he was prone to making Rolan question the sanity of Tav’s entire operation. To think the world had been in their hands, only they were truly crazy enough to pull it off, he believed. At the very least he could assure Tav the two were alive and well. 

A gentle humming of weave wrapped around him, and in his ear as if the man was right in front of him, Rolan heard Gale’s voice. 

“Apologies! Astarion and I will make our way to the tower shortly, we have much to discuss. Expect us tomorrow! How are Tav and Shadowheart?”

Rolan clenched his teeth, and spoke out loud. “They’re both safe now, no thanks to you. Forewarning, neither are pleased with you two. You’d better come up with a good excuse. Good evening.”

There was not another message. Rolan felt a sense of satisfaction in letting them sweat in the knowledge that their friends were waiting on them. It had been hard to see Shadowheart struggle with being the last of the original six on her feet, and the two had been one of the first things Tav had asked about when she finally awoke. 

It had been nearly a week with no word. He was certain Tav would not have been so harsh with him earlier were her friends there with her. The ache of jealousy still settled in his chest, he wanted nothing more than to go back to the study and be near her but pride was preventing him from walking out of the door. 

He went back to his spell book, ready to make more notes on the new discoveries from the sending spell and finish working on his telekinesis alterations. Whenever he paused to think or stopped to read over his notes, his thumb  gently rubbed over the pearl still dangling there.

Tav felt horrible about what she said. After Rolan left her alone in the study, she tried to read more about infernal steelwork through tear blurred eyes. Another thing to add to her pile of failures, festering in the pool of guilt that seemed permanently settled in her stomach. 

Immediately she wanted to apologize. Her temper could be quick but she knew when she was wrong. Tav went to the door, looking out into the hallway, but it was empty. She had no idea what room he was staying in, since he insisted she kept using his for the time being. Unable to do anything else, she went back to the book she had found and read it until her eyes ached. 

The next day Rolan was not at breakfast. Everyone had stopped their hovering, after a few days of rest and recovery from the battle and her return from death, Tav felt almost entirely back to her old self. When she came down into the shop section of the tower for the first time, she was surprised to see it set up as a sort of healing center. Shadowheart informed her that compared to the night after battle the place was much less crowded. 

 Shadowheart joined as Jaheira walked Tav through the city, discussing the rebuilding efforts. As before the attack, the upper city was closed off, the efforts to salvage the destroyed streets had apparently been well underway before anyone official besides Florrick paid attention to the lower city. 

A good chunk of the patriars and nobles had been murdered at Gortash’s coronation. Their heirs were all banded together to be the new saviors of the city, buying first the love of the richest by repairing their streets first. It was clear that the new favorites in the lower city were the Harper’s, Florick and even the new master of Ramazith’s Tower. 

She was told of his efforts to keep open the doors of his home as a refuge, and even some stories of him running around the morning after the battle to help wherever he could. Pride welled up in her, even if he was not speaking to her currently, she was so pleased to hear him praised that she could hardly keep from smiling. 

Despite Shadowheart’s hesitance, Tav volunteered to immediately start getting to work. It felt good to do something besides force herself to walk around the tower until she got too tired to continue. Shadowheart had taken on a lot while Tav was recovering, including informing a grieved Duke Ravenguard about the whereabouts of his son. Tav felt the need to make up for it. 

Outside of the shop in the square, Tav decided to try using some magic to fix up a broken wall. Stoneshape was a hard spell, but it felt good to use her magic. Once the exhaustion wore off it bubbled inside of her, crackling to be used, or to find a way out of her. On the road the tadpole often kept it under better control than she ever had alone and it had countless opportunities to lash out given all the fighting they had done. 

Gale had always been kind about it, but he mentioned more than once a bit of wizarding education to keep it under control would not hurt. She knew better than anyone he was right. Even with his help she still felt it crack and pull at her when she was particularly upset. 

The only thing that ever controlled it was to exhaust it. Use it all up until there was only the vague hum beneath her veins. She had gotten used to using pointless little spells in her everyday life to satiate its crackling need to fly out of her. Stone shaping buildings back together was a quite useful thing, she thought, given how deeply she was feeling guilt. 

An earth myrmidon came up next to her, its faceless head turned to help her with her task. She looked over her shoulder, trying to find its summoner. Her eyes caught black and amber, Rolan standing not too far off, but he quickly looked away. She kept watching, more of his summoned elementals were clearing rubble, an animated set of armor carrying new building materials to groups of people hammering away. All under his focused gaze as he waved his hands and used his magic to clean up her mess. 

Unable to stop herself, she came over to inspect his work. Arms crossed over her chest in a show of consideration as she tilted her head. 

“Master Rolan, you are making quite a name for yourself in this city,” she teased lightly. “How charitable, and generally decent of you to offer your services in this trying time.”

“How benevolent of you to notice,” he replied dryly. “Quite the compliment from the Savior of the Gate. I’ve been rather busy while you’ve been lazing away in the tower.”

“Well, I can’t be outdone,” she smiled. “I have a reputation as a hero, you know.”

“I do know,” Rolan’s lip twitched, fighting a smile. “All too well.”

“Rolan —“

“Astarion! What the hells are you doing?” 

Tav turned quickly at Shadowheart’s panicked voice. There in the street was Astarion, next to a grinning Gale, in broad daylight. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight and she was running towards them, Shadowheart having the same idea. There had to be something she could cast, something to block him from the sun, but her mind was coming up short. 

But as she approached, he wasn’t burning. There was no ashen haze over his face, his eyes were bright and… blue. 

“Don’t make a scene, darling,” Astarion said, but he seemed very nearly bashful. 

In fact, a soft pink blush was rising on his cheeks. His skin, though still pale, had a  glow to it. She’d grown so used to the marble like pallor of his skin, the undertones of pink made her feel like she was looking at a stranger. 

“You’re — how?”

“True resurrection!” Gale supplied gleefully at his side. “One of the only known cures for vampirism.” 

“How in the hells did you manage that?” Shadowheart was looking wide eyed at Astarion, while Tav touched his warm cheek. 

“Due to the nature of the orb, I acquired a scroll very early on in my isolation,” Gale explained, animated as ever. “As I pose no risk to any surrounding cities any longer, I found a much better use for it.”

“I’ve been so worried about you two,” Tav frowned. 

“You had a resurrection scroll this entire time?” Shadowheart snapped. 

“Well, yes —“ Gale’s mouth shut tight at Shadowheart’s blazing gaze. He looked to Tav confusedly. 

“I had some pretty bad wounds —“

“She died.” Shadowheart cut her off. “Bled out right on the dock after you two ran off, and I had no magic left. If Rolan hadn’t had a scroll at the tower —“

“But he did,” Tav interrupted, at the stricken look on Gale’s face. “It's okay, I’m fine.”

“It’s my fault,” Astarion said, a frown on his face as he refused to meet their eyes. Since he was not usually one to come close to apologizing, it made both Shadowheart and Tav give their full attention.  “I was… well, I thought I lost my time in the sun.” 

“Even if I didn’t come back,” Tav said, “I couldn't be angry at you for this.” She sniffled a little, “welcome back to mortality. You don’t look a day over 200.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush,” Astarion preened. “Which is still the oddest sensation, all that warmth.” He touched his face.

“Given how long you two were gone I imagine you’ve rediscovered just how warm you can get,” Tav teased. 

“I’m so sorry,” Gale said, wincing. “I’d assumed we were all in the clear.”

There was a silence and Astarion’s new eyes looked to Tav and then Shadowheart. “It’s really just us now, isn’t it?”

“For now,” Tav smiled sadly. “Quiet, isn’t it?”

“Odd. And… well, I won’t say I miss you all in the back of my mind but,” he frowned a little, “it was something, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t need the tadpole to know they all understood. Tav yanked Astarion into a hug, but it took a few moments for him to return the gesture. She flailed her hand around to find Gale’s sleeve and pulled him in too. Shadowheart looked like she was going to stubbornly ignore Gale’s outstretched arm but Astarion rolled his eyes. 

“If we are doing group hugs you can’t make me endure it alone,” he said to her. 

Shadowheart gave in, and no one mentioned the tears rolling down her cheek. Astarion’s heartbeat was in her ear, Gale’s hair tickled her face, and Shadowheart was smashed against her side with a desperate grip on her shirt. The fact they were all in each other’s head had made their time together intimate regardless of whether they wanted it to be or not. In the absence of it, Tav was ready to claim whatever closeness to them she could. 

“Can we get a victory drink now?”

There had been a small celebration at the Elfsong after the emotional reunion in the square. Rolan gave them their space. On the outside of her life, as he always seemed to be. A bittersweet contentment was living in his chest, to see her so happy and feeling that he had no place in her celebration. 

But he was not going to be the one who brought down the mood of the evening. He, afterall, had much to be grateful for as he spent the night drinking with his siblings, Alfira and Lakrissa. Some of the others from the caravan had even come out. By the end of the night, he made sure the very drunk heroes made it up to their suite and returned to the tower. 

Now that she was settled in with her friends, he had his bedroom back. When he laid down, his pillows still smelled of her. He loved it. He loved her. For so many days he had avoided calling it what it was, even in his own mind. He would admit to himself that she was as dear to him as his siblings, he would admit that he wanted her - sometimes so badly it felt like he was being burned alive, but calling it love seemed to be a nail in a coffin. 

Because Tav obviously wanted him in some way. She trusted him with her most prized possession, she asked him on a date before running off to save the world, and she was always looking for ways to bother him. But be it an Elderbrain, death itself, or some slip of the tongue that nearly started an argument it never seemed to come to anything. 

Rolan drifted off to sleep that night trying to figure out why. 

In the morning, he busied himself in the tower. There was still so much to do, and he had spent most of the past week running around the city. Eventually, the Sorcerer’s Sundries would have to reopen, and he had a lot to change around the upper levels of the tower. It saved his pride to be away from questions about Tav, and it was a temporary distraction. 

“There you are,” Cal came up sheepishly. “I know you said not to bother you — “

“And yet here you are.”

“There’s a lady down stairs,” Cal began. “She won’t go away, and she keeps asking for Tav.”

“You can tell her that the Saviors of Baldur's gate aren’t at the beck and call of any civilian who fancies meeting them,” Rolan grumbled, “and the Master of Ramazith’s Tower is not their secretary.”

“Rolan,” Cal called for his attention seriously. “She says she’s Tav’s mother.”

Thank you for reading!

NEXT CHAPTER

#rolan x tav #rolan x oc #rolan fanfic #holy rolan empire #olly writes

[queercatboyrights]

Bloodweave discussing books together to me looks like that one video of the two guys aggressively arguing about the wizard of oz

like

Astarion: HOLD ON! HOLD ON!! HOLD ON!!

Astarion: Her sister was a WITCH, RIGHT? And what was HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO!

Gale, to Tav: I'm gonna stab him

Astarion: YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG? AM I WRONG?

Gale: It's my favorite book!-

Astarion: SHE WORE A CROWN AND SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE, GALE. GROW UP BRO

Gale: I'm not fighting with him- I'm not fighting with you. Get educated! you motherf-

#nebbles talks #that video is just so bloodweave coded. TO ME #gale and astarion just have the bickering lovers with severely opposing opinions on things they both like vibes to me alright #they argue about stupid things and then maybe make out about it later