A few days have passed since I lost control, a moment that could have ended tragically with Gale. In the aftermath, we sat down, our emotions laid bare, engaging in a conversation that was as open as it was healing. We delved into our fears, our hopes, and the intricate dance of our relationship. In a tender crescendo, we shared a kiss that was more than just a meeting of lips; it was a fusion of souls. The faint aroma of coffee and vanilla from his breath was intoxicating, and the playful tickle of his beard against my lip was unexpectedly delightful. Ever since that defining exchange, I find myself grinning at random moments, a giddy sensation swirling in my belly—a whimsical dance of butterflies that people speak of when they're in love. This newfound joy is a gentle whisper of what's to come, a promise of hope and deep connection.
In the shadow-draped realm of the Gauntlet of Shar, our intrepid group found ourselves at the mercy of the grueling tests orchestrated by Shadowheart. This was no ordinary challenge; it was a sacred crucible that held the key to her ascension among the ranks of the Dark Justiciars. These elite warriors of Shar are not only masters of combat but also bearers of arcane secrets, wielding supernatural abilities that strike awe and fear into the hearts of mortals. As Shadowheart led us through the labyrinthine trials, her determination was palpable, each test a step closer to her destiny. This journey was crucial to her, a testament to her unwavering devotion to become an instrument of Shar's enigmatic will, a guardian of shadows tasked with the silent orchestration of fate throughout the vast lands of Faerun. We stood by her, allies in the dance of darkness and light, witnessing what could only be described as the forging of a legend.
Weary from the aftermath of the Self-Same Trial, a harrowing ordeal where we faced our own shadowy counterparts, I leaned heavily against a weathered stone barrier, each breath a testament to the battle's ferocity. My hands found refuge on my knees as I struggled to catch my breath, the remnants of my wild magic lingering like a heavy shroud, its unpredictable nature having turned the tide of combat against me at crucial moments. Despite these challenges, the steadfast support of Shadowheart and Lea'Zeal was my anchor, their unwavering presence guiding me back to the sanctuary of camp where I could recuperate.
There, upon the unyielding stone floor, I sought a moment's reprieve on a humble stool outside the canvas walls of my tent. Quothe, the Dire Raven of my childhood memories, was a quiet figure of solace on his perch, his beak nestled beneath a wing as if to offer me a silent nod of solidarity. The weight of the day's events began to lift as I wiped the sweat from my forehead and released a long, drawn-out sigh, a small gesture of release after the storm of adrenaline.
The sudden sound of a throat being cleared sliced through the evening's calm, and my eyes lifted to find Gale standing before me. His cheeks bore the flush of excitement, and his eyes, those windows to an ebullient spirit, gleamed with a mischievous glee. The camp around us was a tableau of mirth, with Astarion commanding the audience's attention, his vampiric allure weaving a spell of distraction, his performance a clever ruse to lighten the heavy air left by the day's trials.
Yet, as I turned my attention back to Gale, I couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity stirring within me. What news or secret did his bright eyes hold? What had sparked that flush of enthusiasm on his features? The world of our camp, alive with the echoes of laughter and the comforting presence of allies, seemed to pause in anticipation of what Gale might reveal.
""Edith, care to join me?" he asked, offering his hand with a charming smile. I took it, feeling the warmth of his grasp as I rose to my feet. Together, we wandered through the dimly lit corridors, our path illuminated by one of the ethereal moon lanterns—a necessary protection against the encroaching shadows that danced just beyond the light's reach.
As we walked, I glanced at Gale, my smile softening as our eyes locked in a silent conversation. The world around us seemed to pause, holding its breath for a moment. Then, with a casual snap of his fingers, Gale whisked us away to a realm that seemed untouched by time or sorrow. The meadow we stepped into was alive with vibrant colors, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, as if the curse that had once stifled the land was nothing but a distant memory.
I looked around, taking in the scene that Gale had conjured with an artist's precision. The magic here was palpable, thrumming through the air and tickling my senses. "Beautiful conjuration," I commented with a playful tone, nudging Gale's shoulder gently. "Though, I must admit, I could probably replicate such a feat with my eyes closed." I teased, a challenge laced within my words.
Sitting beside him on the lush grass, our laughter mingled with the serene whispers of the meadow. Our rivalry, a constant game of one-upmanship in the arts of wizardry and sorcery, was as much a part of our bond as the trust and camaraderie we shared. It was always a delight to tease him, to poke at our friendly competition, and to see what marvelous spell he would come up with next to try and outdo me.
As the echoes of our laughter died down, Gale's gaze found mine, his eyes softening with a tender warmth that made my heart flutter. He offered me a gentle smile, the kind that reaches deep into your soul, and said, "I need you to understand just how much you mean to me... It's not only you, but everyone in our circle. Each of you has shown me there's more to life than I ever realized. I'm not here to regain Mystra's favor; I'm here to truly live." He let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle and added with a mix of affection and melancholy, "Curse you... curse you for giving me a reason to cherish life again."
His confession was bittersweet, a poignant reminder of our shared struggles. The original plan had been to harness the power of the orb nestled within his chest to thwart the Absolute, yet here he was, choosing a different path—a path I couldn't be more relieved about. As I stood there, grappling with the intensity of my emotions, I realized that despite the fragments of my past eluding me, something profound and undeniable was blossoming within me. Perhaps, in my previous life, I was devoid of such depth of feeling, but now, there was no denying the truth that resonated through my being—I love him. I love Gale with an intensity that's both exhilarating and terrifying, a love that's as real as the magic that flows through our veins.
In that single heartbeat where 'I love you' tumbles from our lips in perfect harmony, the world seems to pause, acknowledging the depth of our feelings. Gale's face is a canvas of emotion, painted with the softest shade of pink that spreads across his cheeks and kisses the bridge of his nose. It's a sight so endearing that it draws out a shared, gentle chuckle from the depths of our connected souls.
As our laughter melds into the twilight air, our lips find each other in a kiss that's as natural as the evening breeze. It's a confession made not just in words but in the tender meeting of mouths, a silent symphony of long-held affection and newfound courage. The magic of the moment wraps around us, a cocoon woven from the golden threads of our mutual adoration.
I feel Gale's hands, strong yet so gentle, moving with a rhythm that echoes the beating of our hearts. They travel up and down my back, a soothing yet exhilarating caress that deepens the kiss, intensifying the moment as if we're both diving into a sea of emotion, letting the waves of passion carry us away.
The night around us is alive with the whispers of the unseen, the stars above twinkling in approval of the love that's unfolding beneath their celestial gaze. It's a night designed for closeness, for the sharing of secrets and dreams, for the kind of intimacy that you feel down to your very core—a perfect night for us, a night where love is not just spoken, but truly felt and lived.
AN: Hey friends there will be some smut next chapter just a little heads up!!
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The Urge || Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic||
FanfictionEdith, a unique Bhaalspawn, wasn't born in the traditional sense but rather forged from the very essence of Bhaal's deceased form. Unlike her kin, she spent her early years away from the cult's influence, welcomed into a human family that cherished...
