Archive of Our Own ^beta

The last few days had been fraught with a level of tension you were uncomfortable with. A lot was happening all at once within the city limits of Baldur's Gate, and most of it seemed to revolve around you and your companions which created an air of tense awkwardness during nights, and anxious preparations during the day. Even sleep was scarce, as the timeliness of your efforts weighed heavier than what rest you tried to catch.

It came to a head at Sorcerous Sundries. Even as highly as Gale praised the well esteemed establishment as an upstanding and reputable Bookseller, the party's experiences had been less than stellar. Most of these things were minor, but they still added to the cumulative growing frustration, which then became even more exacerbated when inquiring about a specialty volume that supposedly had information in regards to a lead you had been chasing for more than a week now. The close lipped eccentric Librarian wouldn't even spare Gale a glance at a single page, taunting him with vivid and tantalizing descriptions of rare one of a kind sets of literature and then sadistically turning him away without a second thought, as if the knowledge that these tomes exist at all was gift enough. Except, Gale's desire for this tome was based on principle, and he had openly bemoaned the double standard at camp when you returned for the night.

"I find no indication of any reliable purpose," he had ranted, a pointed finger in the air, "for any reputable book tender to claim ownership of a collection of rare tomes, advertise such rarity to the public, and then refuse entry!"

He was positively awash with a petulant rage as he paced back and forth at camp, muddying the ground with his steps and gesticulating wildly. "One cannot claim their prowess or penchant as a bookseller if one refuses all manner of barter and tender to sell their books! Preposterous!" His rage crackled about the air in static electricity, alighting the torches in shimmering sparks of purple, and zipping in tangles through his hair like strands of glowing ire.

"I have never been so slighted by the impropriety of false business practices as I am at this present moment!" He pointed downward aggressively, to the place he was standing. His normally well tended mane of wavy locks wild about his face, and the handsome pleasant expression he usually carried turned down in clear disapproval. The hand clasped around his enchanted staff was white knuckled around the circumference of the pole, and his breath heaved in angry pants through his nose.

"Well..." The notable high society drawl of his clearly amused neighbor echoed quietly through the camp. "There are other ways of acquiring these items..." Astarion was sitting on a velvet stool next to his own tent, one leg crossed over the other elegantly, his elbow resting on a fastidiously embroidered knee, supporting his sharp face in the cup of one pale hand. His piercing vermillion eyes fixated upon the wizard, trailing his form as he paced around.

Gale took four large steps toward Astarion, his accusatory finger pointed directly at his face. "On any other day, your lowly graces of criminality might make me refute such a suggestion, especially in light of the profound importance of honorable lending, even knowing your underhanded proclivities for illicit behavior," he spat out the term as if it offended him greatly.

Astarion hadn't moved, or seemed at all phased by Gale's aggression, keeping a trained gaze on the resident wizard's face, arms still braced upon his slender crossed legs, his placid expression looked neutral and sultry, but the shine in his eyes belied a subtle amusement. If anything you almost thought he looked excited, or even challenged by Gale's behavior.

Gale's hand turned from its clenched pointed gesture in Astarion's face to an open palmed graceful sweep to the side as he bowed dramatically, his other hand bringing his staff up to rest vertically in the ground, and his voice lowering softly as if suddenly accommodating something reverent. "However, it is not any other day, and I would gladly turn a blind eye to such illicit activities if it relieved that awful woman of at least one book from her supposedly esteemed collection." He snorted lightly, still bowed, "A little humility goes a long way, afterall."

You watched as Astarion slowly let his gaze creep sideways until he locked eyes with you, blinking once, clearly considering Gale's roundabout jibe, the rest of his body resting stone still in his perched position. You got the sense that Astarion was asking you for input in a way, and you mulled over the decision then to make a late night trip back to Sorcerous Sundries, wondering silently about your tools, equipment, and prowess for such exchanges, before inclining your head in a near imperceptible nod in the direction of the camp exit, trying your best at matching his subtlety.

Upon seeing your response, he continued with a sigh "I am fond of the illicit, aren't I..." Astarion's crimson eyes might have been connected with yours presently, but he was clearly talking to Gale. "That trite little Librarian really did you in didn't she?" He lifted his pose to switch crossed legs in a flourish, his tone dramatically sympathetic, and leaned back on his hands, cocking his head to the side in a picture of sheer arrogance, eyes sliding back to Gale smoothly. "If I wasn't so taken with this... entertaining display," Astarion gestured with a graceful hand in several circles in the air, "I would think you almost seem desperate..."

Gale stood from his theatrical bow and looked Astarion dead in the face. "Why yes, Astarion. I thought I had made my desperation abundantly clear."

Gale looked at the vampire with a surprising amount of bewilderment, and bafflement, for several long moments, before a certain recognition seemed to dawn on him, his expression turning into a vivid picture of reticent humor. He barked out a series of echoing laughs interspersed between his thoughts and turned back to his tent. "Hah! Oh this is excellent! Haha!" The madness bubbling under the surface of Gale's frustration seemed to break free in cackles of angry incredulous laughter.

"Of course this would be yet another time you would humor yourself at my expense!" Gale walked in a circle, his tone turning wicked and piercing, an intentional sleight at Astarion's verbiage and speech pattern. "Look at the silly wizard! Cat got his pretty little tongue and wont let him buy his silly little books! How utterly adorable!"

His impersonation of Astarion's aggrandizing speech was truly impressive and you couldn't help but smile, bemused at how absurdly uncanny it was.

"And here I thought...You know what, nevermind. Good Night." He trails off as he stepped back into the expanse of his tented area, and whipped the flap open, bent down to head inside and didn't look back as the tent deftly buttoned itself shut behind him with an audible pop, leaving the camp awash in a trepidatious feel of awkward silence at his abrupt departure.

Astarion stood abruptly and ran his slender fingers through his hair with a loud sigh, a satisfied look crinkling the sides of his striking face, as if he's just eaten a delectable meal, and smiled at you. He looked charmed, thrilled even, and wore no mask over his delighted expression, adjusting his expensive leather gloves with deliberate care. He gestured with one outstretched hand towards the entrance to camp and raised a single narrow brow. "After you."

You looked at Astarion then in moderate disapproval, and admonished him. "Was that really necessary? Maybe tone it down next time, yeah?" Your hands were on your waist and you crossed them in front of your chest, watching him theatrically roll his eyes and make a show of annoyance.

"Please, darling, it was dinner and a show! Honestly, he set himself up for it." His sharp bite back was made with a soft tisk, dismissing your concern easily, and combating your sympathetic stance with an outstretched arm, hand poised with his palm out toward you. "And anyways we're literally about to rob his favorite little bookshop together. He'll be fine in the morning."

You sighed and turned to walk out of camp, a roll of your own eyes gracing your features, and a shake of your head illustrating your stance on the matter. Nevertheless Astarion seemed to not care as he began commenting offhanded about what other illicit activities Gale might overlook in the right circumstances, which in turn did make you laugh.

One night's adventure later, book in hand, and Astarion's expertise in roguish affairs thoroughly taken advantage of, you were back in camp ready to hand over the treasure. Retrieving it was a rich story of danger and mystical nuance that you know Gale would be delighted to hear, which would most assuredly put him in a better mood, and you beelined for his tent.

Except, it was still securely buttoned shut, the traces of a leftover magic creating a stagnant, vacant atmosphere. It seems he was not "fine" as Astarion had suggested.

Other members of your camp hadn't explicitly seen him leave the camp, or even his tent, but considering the silence, they were unsure all the same. It really wasn't like him to just up and leave.

You ponder, standing at the front of his tent, with awkward shuffling motions, a little perturbed, restless even, not knowing how to find him, or what to do. His tent feels vacant just by looking at it, the shady blue fabric flutters in the light wind, and his stacks of tomes and scrolls are still abundantly piled by the closed flap. He'd added a table recently with a spherical crystal on it, withholding any inclination of its purpose, and several crates of fragrant smelling herbs and components, most likely needed for spellcasting. It looked homey, comfortable... and well, still empty.

You aren't doing the greatest yourself, feeling sticky in your weathered dirty gear, and tired from sleepless nights. It's a wonder the leather hasn't already fallen off of you considering the grungy state you'd left it in since basement diving through magic traps.

"Just go in already!" Astarion's voice tickles your inner ear as he speaks from behind you and even though you want to ignore the urge to look at him petulantly, you turn swiftly and settle your expression into a patronizing glance, clutching the book tighter to your chest. He rolls his eyes at you, obviously incensed by your defiance. "Oh for fucks sake you're like a mooning pup, get on with it, or I might die again of second hand embarassment just from looking at you." He makes a "go forth" gesture with both hands flopped forward, dipping his head slightly toward you with an annoyed look, and then turns his back on you in a semblance of privacy, crossing his arms over his chest.

He was right, though. Gale surely wouldn't mind a friend entering his tent to deliver a gift. The idea of deliberately unlatching his camp home seemed intrusive to you at the time but considering all you were going to do was leave a book on his bedroll, it should be fine.

You sigh again, deciding to just drop off the book, take a very long dip in the nearest stream, and then sleep off last nights adventure. You step toward the tent, passively wiping your feet on the area rug and lean down to unhook the buttons that secure the flap downward, plucking them one by one. You might have missed it were you not so focused but as you unlatch the last button, a small almost imperceptible pulse washes over camp in a ripple originating from Gale's tent.

Odd.

You're just intending to reach inside far enough to find a piece of parchment to leave him a note with the book. However, as you drop to your knees and lean forward to crawl through the flap, you freeze, unsure how to take in what you're seeing.

Gale's tent is not a tent.

Well the outside sure looks it, but the inside was an extremely well furnished, somewhat lavish looking spacious abode. You almost think it was a direct replica of a top floor loft in Baldur's gate, what with the latticed open-air architecture, and the multitude of stone arched windows encircling the walls. However, you don't recognize the visible surrounding geography from the windowed scenery, so you assume instead that it's reminiscent of what his home might have looked like in Waterdeep.

The many bookshelves in here dwarf the small stacks laid outside his tent, and you find yourself aghast at the sheer size of his collection. Trinkets of a magical spark dot the shelves as accents, or rest in cluttered piles on small end tables and while half looked like they had been forgotten about, many seem like they are under current research, either sitting atop of hastily scrawled notes, or open to reveal the intricate mechanics of their inner workings.

Just to the right of the entrance, a large darkwood desk stands, its surface and drawers crammed with paperwork similarly scrawled in runic symbols and ancient looking calligraphy. Quills and bottles of ink scatter the area, and utensils and writing trinkets cramp the inside of a small cup at the back. There's a boat of melted candles that looks like it's been reformed many times over the years, with one wick still burning presently.

On the other side of the entrance, two comfy looking arm chairs upholstered in lush embroidered velvet and inlaid with intricate wood carving sit neatly beside an intimate table setting, just enough for a cup of wine and a small book to rest on its surface.

In the center of the room, a startlingly comfortable looking plush bed on four posts is really the main attraction, framed almost romantically by the open aired balcony styled windows, trailing plant vines, and swaths of curtain fabric hanging on either side of the posts in dreamy lengths from the remarkably tall ceiling. There's a plethora of the softest looking cushions piled at the head of the bed, and puffed feather inlaid covers that make you swoon just imagining the comfort. An intricately designed carpet around the base looks equally as pleasant between your toes as his bed looks for your back. How long had it been since you rested in an actual bed, much less the luxury presented before you?

"Astarion I swear upon everything worldly if I see your face in here right now I-..." Gale's quickly approaching voice stutters to a halt, as he enters from an area you hadn't seen, only to stop in his tracks immediately, no doubt seeing it was not who he thought it was.

Again you blink in stupor, similar to your surprise at his home away from home, because Gale isn't dressed.

He's tying a bath towel around his hips, leaving the rest of his physique bare to your gaze, a physique much sturdier than you had expected. His chest is broad and showcases the toned muscles of his pecs and the intricate tattoo on his chest, and you trail your gaze down the center of his abdomen, following the curving sensual suggestion towards his pelvis. He wasn't the hulking majestic behemoth that was Halsin, nor was he the lithe and slender sensuality of Astarion, he was sculpted somewhere in the middle: robust, lean, sturdy.

You gulp audibly and flick your eyes back up to his again, realizing how strange it might seem to him that you're right there on your knees, half inside his tent, the flap draped across the side of your waist, and half out, the back of your legs in the sunshine and your feet resting on his welcome mat, looking sincerely lost for the trees. Any amount of relief at finding Gale in well spirits was now adrift on the wind, your overwhelmed brain trying to process what you just stumbled onto.

Gale snaps out of it first. "My word!" With the flick of his wrist clothing begins appearing across his body in tangling colorful threads until his normal attire garbs him as if it was never removed in the first place, and he takes several steps toward you, reaching down and pulling you to stand fully in his living quarters. "When my alarm sounded I was not expecting...well no matter, please come in, have a seat." He guides you toward the arm chairs off to the side and you awkwardly sit at the very edge of the cushion, not wanting to dirty his quality luxuries with your gross stained clothing.

The first thought that comes to your mind coincidentally falls out of your mouth impulsively. "Astarion come in here often?"

Gale grunts and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest and standing placidly in front of you. "If he's not here to swipe any of the projects I work on for no rhyme or reason, he's combing through my library for something he wont tell me." Gale gestures absent-mindedly to the side and you look again at the shelves overflowing with scrolls and tomes of all sizes. You certainly have considered the kinds of trouble the resident vampire gets into, but the extent of it always seems novel when you hear about it secondhand. You look at Gale in surprise, an amused smile curling upwards despite your best intentions to stop it, and you laugh somewhat heartily, finding a comedy of errors in this interpersonal relationship you hadn't even considered before. "I'm sorry for laughing, Gale, that sounds ridiculous."

Gale looks at you for a moment before a wide smile cracks his face, a short peel of laughter joining yours. "It is, isn't it?" He shakes his head, and closes his eyes. "No amount of locks seem to stop him either. A real menace that one. I've taken to just placing alarms so that at least I won't be surprised."

He steps swiftly over to another shelf that had escaped your earlier perusal, filled with goblets, wine, and other indiscernible manner of beverage. "Would you like something to drink?" He turns to study you, his eyes catching yours, and his earring glinting in the sunlight.

You draw a hand up abruptly, "Ah, I'm sorry, was I interrupting you earlier? I don't mean to keep you..." you would rather not intrude upon his privacy if he had business to attend, or comforts to relax in. You linger momentarily on the memory of his bared flesh, wondering if he had been in the middle of bathing.

"Please," His gaze softens and he shifts his weight to the other leg. "You are of no imposition to me at all." He delicately raises the glass he was holding as if to tempt you, and you smile back at him.

"In that case, yes. Thank you." You stand from the seat to join him at the wine shelf, only needing to take a few steps to reach him and take a deep breath. "I, uh, have a surprise for you." You're looking at his back as he uncorks a bottle and pours a bright red liquid into two glasses, and you shuffle your feet slightly, feeling that uncanny nervousness again.

Gale starts and turns abruptly, holding a glass in each hand. He looks pointedly at the book in your arms and then back up at your face, his eyes searching, trepidatious, excited. "You didn't..."

You hold out the book slightly, as you're currently in close proximity to him and nod solidly, watching as a look of pure incredulous glee washes over his features. "Ahah!" He turns again to set the glasses down before excitedly looking at you. "A glorious surprise indeed! May I?"

He waits with a baited breath for you to say yes and at your responding affirmative nod, gently and quickly takes the tome from your proffered grip, gazing at its cover in wonder. He immediately steps past you towards his desk, an intricate finger weave gesticulating in the air. You watch as an orb of light hovers plainly above him and a sheet of parchment slips from the inside of one of his desk drawers, joined by an eager looking quill. He's already shuffling through the pages, sharp eyes scanning each sentence, the quill belaying a strange excitement in its hopping behavior as it begins to write.

"Oh this is good, this is most marvelous!" Gale's gaze of wonderment was addictive, and his thrill was palpable.

You grab one of the cups of wine left on the shelf, and take a small sip, glad that it was now safely in his hands. The wine he chose tastes full in your mouth. It's fruity, and mild, and leaves you wanting more of it with each sip. He doesn't linger too long, mostly skimming a few pages here and there and letting the quill near his face scratch insistently over the floating parchment. You watch as he softly closes the book, and it vanishes into thin air with a small pop before he turns to you, a wide beaming smile across his handsome face.

"I will study that in more depth later, I had not expected to be graced with such a gift at all. I had assumed it was a nigh impossibility, but this is most welcome here." You watch him walk closer to you and he comes to a stop in somewhat close proximity and you can tell he's genuinely charmed by your extended olive branch. "I thank you very much."

You nod, charmed, and smile back. "Anytime, Gale."

He gestures again to the seats "I can infer there's a tale to be told here, would you be willing to entertain me with the specifics?"

You feel an awkward flush upon your cheeks and look down at your now empty cup, clutching it between two hands. "I would love to, but..." You're not intending to turn him down, but you can't help but take in your battered body and wrecked clothing, the residue of your travels through the basement of a magical trapped bookshop built up on your clothes, and hadn't yet been cleaned yet. "I don't want to sully your very nice furniture...magic or otherwise..."

You can tell he hadn't really taken a good look at you until now, and you feel a sense of withering under his appraising look at your filthy form.

"Hmmm," he starts, still looking over you, a hand coming to rest on his mouth in a loose contemplative fist. "Been a while?"

If you weren't embarrassed before, you surely are now, and you noticeably cringe. It had been a while since you'd had a decent bath that wasn't just a dip in a stream, yes, but the current layer of grime had come from Sorcerous Sundries basement. Crusted in patches of caked and flaking mud, cracking charcoal, burnt and acid eaten spots, and an egregious amount of blood might just render the leather a lost cause, and you didn't want to know what the inside of your armor smelled of either.

Gale breaks the awkward silence first, looking a little sheepish, and a tad nervous. He looks at you with a genuine level of hesitancy, and you know he was most likely about to ask you to leave. Instantly you feel a pang of shame and moved to apologize, but he speaks first. "Now I don't want you to take this in any strange way, but...would you...ahem...like to use my bath?" His hand scratches the back of his head as he looks to the side now, a light flush dusting his ears.

You blink, startled. Of all the things you imagined he might say to you in this moment, you hadn't considered offering a private bath among any of them, and your sudden thoughts of self-doubt abruptly vaporize as you realize he wasn't judging you on your state of cleanliness, but was just nervous about his own proposition.

Suddenly the air in the room shifts for you, and the opportunity dawns on you sharply. You realize what a boon it would be to have a real honest true to form bath for the first time since you had started this journey. You already know your answer is yes, the lure of hygienic comfort is too easy a draw.

Amidst your short musings, he had continued rambling, hands in the air defensively. "Now I know this may sound incredibly forward considering I've made no such indication in the past, but it just so happens I was also just about to have a bath when you arrived at my doorstep. I can assure you there's more than enough room for two, and I would understand if you would view this as too improper or you wouldn't want to-"

Room for two... the moment you hear those words, several thoughts flit through your head that give you a sudden pause for consideration. There's a subtle romantic feel about all of this as you affirm that you're presently standing in his very private bedroom, drinking his choice of wine, considering bathing in his ensuite... you would be naked together...

Deeper yet, there's a tickling thought at the back of your mind of whether he might invite you to share his luxurious bed as well. You're pretty sure it also has room for two...

The idea washes over your body in a sensual caress and you openly appraise him in a different light, drawing recent memory of his bared form to the front of your mind, considering him closely. All of it happens so fast in your head, and if he unlocked some fantasy of yours with a magic key and all your carefully barricaded thoughts came tumbling out without warning. You almost startle yourself with how quickly you landed at these conclusions.

It takes you all of a few seconds to consider the situation, to try to understand the depth of his intent, wondering whether he knew what he was asking of you, or offering of himself, and find yourself inclined to accept even more now, the pros of the situation weighing far heavier than the very implausible singular con that Gale wasn't actually propositioning you and you wildly misread the situation.

"-Gale." You cut him off with a hand reaching out to grasp his sleeve, and draw a startled expression from him. "That sounds wonderful." you confess softly, and lock eyes for what seems like several long seconds. You smile and watch as unseen gears spin wildly in his head, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours. Maybe he didn't think you were going to agree, or maybe he too suddenly realized what exactly he had been implicating with his very suggestion, but either way he seemed shocked at the outcome, albeit pleased.

The moment lasted shortly, and his voice lowers almost imperceptibly. "Right then, this way." He gestures in a different direction than the chairs, and you make your way through an archway, releasing his sleeve as you step forward and find yourself in a spacious stone floored room adjacent to his bedroom, struck again with surprise.

He wasn't kidding about having enough space for more than one person, the inset foundation of the bath was truly majestic. The pool takes up the majority of one corner, inlaid with smooth stone work, and deep enough to tread water at the back. It looks heated, by the visage of curling steam rising from the surface. You imagine Gale floating blissfully, arms stretched out, ears beneath the water, tuning out the world around him in sheer relaxation and feel a small pang of jealousy that he'd been enjoying these luxuries in camp while the rest of you roughed it in the wild like animals.

There's a remarkably modern looking latrine closet, accompanied by a small gurgling fountain that you assume he uses as a sink. Next to it, tucked into the wall is a large wardrobe with intricate handles that piques your curisoity.

A gleam of candlelight on the wall draws your attention upwards to the canopy of tiny floating twinkles near the ceiling, ambiently blinking in slow random pulses, and swaths of fabric drooping decoratively from bronzed spacing bars. The ceiling itself looks like a glimpse into the sky, clouds rolling by in plush clumps of magic mist, diffusing the twinkling lights, and providing an ethereal feel about the whole of the space. You can only imagine how many times Gale has sat in this luxurious bath creating illusions in the faux sky. The whole of this room was a well crafted illustration of the comforts of modern magic and it impressed you deeply.

"This is incredible, Gale." You look at him in astonishment.

"Isn't it?" He looks proud, and his smiling gaze traverses the room slowly. "It took quite a while to get here, but I think it's in a rather good state now." He reaches up to unbutton the clasp at the top of his robe and turns from you, beginning to undress manually.

"It's a compelling relief from the stresses of the mind," He continues, shouldering off the fitted collar. "And I consider it a favorite pastime of mine to add things here and there when I am alone with my thoughts." His shoulders and upper back were bare now as the material slid down his waist, and you watch the muscles in the back of his arms reach down to work open his pants, admiring his tawny skin and broad form. A towel fits itself around him, appearing from nowhere, and fluttering through the air of its own accord, and you take the hint to remove your own clothes.

You begin undressing yourself, charmed by Gale's ambient thoughts. I've considered attuning the ceiling to the weather, but I quite like choosing the ambience at random, so I'm unsure... The belts are first, and you unlatch them, not thinking about the slime that covers the brass, or the way the buckle squeaks with neglect. ...The water is a mineral water that's supposed to be good for the skin? Hmmm... You drop each piece one by one to the floor in a grungy mess.

Your daily wear isn't complicated and you begin that next, peeling the fabric off your figure in sweaty layers and tossing it atop your outer gear. ...Oh, and it stays at optimal temperature for a good long soak too, quite the lengthy spell for that neat little trick... Your boots hamper your ability to shuck off your leggings and you bend down to pull them off, a sneer of disgust passing over your face as you have to finger through an unknown goopy substance to unlatch them, but within seconds they join your other clothes leaving you stark naked in his bathroom, a slight shiver working its way up your body at the subtle chill. You swallow slightly and move to step into the bath.

"Oh, but I haven't yet gotten the chance to-" Gale's voice stops short and you brave a glance over your shoulder as you step into the water. He's looking at you intently, a clear expression of interest passing his features as his eyes rove unabashedly over your naked figure ankle deep in his bath. You can nearly feel the heat of his gaze as he rakes his eyes over yoir figure, seemingly memorizing every curve, edge, dip, and bulge upon you. It fills you with a subtle confidence, seeing his attraction to your body, and as you reflexively bring a hand up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind an ear, his eyes snap to yours, stopping only briefly upon the profiled swell of your breast, nipple hardened by the chill, and skin pocked by gooseflesh, and piercing you with a gaze undoubtedly heated and deeply aroused.

"You haven't gotten the chance...?" You probe lightly, still listening for him to finish his thought, winding an arm around your naked waist and turn slightly to continue submerging yourself in the water.

"I haven't gotten the chance to- what was I saying? Hmmm, you'll have to forgive me, but I seem to have lost my train of thought." A pensive tone overshadows the embarrassed pitch of his words and you smile to yourself, tickled by how genuine he is.

You can feel the heat slowly envelop your body with each step into the bath, and reach out with your arms to finger paint ripples on the top of the steamy pool as you wade deeper. The water climbing higher on your legs is remarkably sensual, inching up your thighs until it reaches your core, lapping gently at your nethers, caressing your hips, embracing your waist, cupping your breasts, enveloping your neck and shoulders. You sigh an audible breath of pure bliss, relishing in the experience of luxury.

It was a wonderful type of heaven in this bath, and Gale was right, the water really was at the perfect temperature. Your skin had tingled slightly at the sting of heat as you entered, and as you acclimated slowly, you relax into a headspace of deep euphoria. You can already feel your body being cleansed of its filth, the minerals in the water coating your skin, soothing you in a warm caress. You sigh again before inhaling a lungful of air and fully submerge your body and head under the water, curling into a ball at the bottom of the bath, feeling your hair lift from your shoulders and float weightlessly around you.

You can already feel your worries leaving you, your nervousness evaporating, your trepidation of sharing a bath trailing out the window with the rising curls of steam. You swipe down your arms and legs several times with an open hand, watching the grime dissolve in the bathwater and to your surprise, it doesn't muddy the clarity, making you marvel again at the luxury of modern magic. Your lungs alert you for their need to release and you push yourself up towards the surface with flat feet on stone. As you break the surface of the water, you hear yourself gasp loudly, and you lift your hands to smooth the wet hair from your face as water slides out of the mass of strands, and ease droplets out of your eyes with your fingers. You already feel refreshed and you haven't even been in the bath for more than a few minutes.

"Enjoying yourself?" Gale's voice echoed lightly and you turn in the water to look at him fully this time. He's waist deep in the pool, gently wiping his skin with an exfoliating looking large sponge, soaking water into the absorbent material, and then letting the liquid wash over his body as he cleans himself, a stream of soapy suds seeming to appear from the sponge itself and then dissipate as they hit the water. You blink slowly, taking him in, and appreciating the sight of soapy water trailing in streams down his bared form, the intimacy of the action not lost on you.

You bring your knees up slightly, enjoying the novelty of floating in hot water, and continue leisurely basking in the lapping sensations, swishing your arms slowly to keep afloat, and eyeing his attractive body as unabashedly as he had eyed yours. The towel had disappeared and his nakedness dawns on you in a rush, an anticipatory excitement tingling through your belly at the shared experience of nudity.

"Far cry from a frigid stream in the middle of the woods..." You jest lightly, and he laughs with you at the obvious compliment, raising the sponge to his neck and wiping down to his chest in one smooth stroke, a trail of bubbles left in its wake. He looks pleased, confident, flattered even.

"Indeed..." He's dutifully scrubbing his elbow and forearm with precise learned movements. "Now, I think I have waited long enough for this tale of adventure and mystery."

You hum momentarily, not sure how to begin, feeling the undulating tentacles of your hair tickle your neck and shoulders and gracefully swim to the very deepest part at the back of the bath as you think about your experiences. The side of the bath faces an arched window with breezy drapery and as you raise your arms to rest on the stone lip, you fit yourself snugly over the side, armpits flush with the edge of the bath and breasts pressed against the inner wall, leaving just your shoulders and arms out of the warm water, resting in profile to Gale.

There's a ridge that juts out under the water at a height that looks ideal for sitting leisurely upon, but you instead let your legs stretch out behind you, kicking your calves lazily and enjoying the sensation of water rushing between them, the splash of your movements echoing in choppy sounds that tinkle through the chamber. A small charmingly carved wooden duck sits between the bath and the window and you tap the tip of one finger against its beak as you recall the tale.

"Well, when we went back, the Librarian wasn't there anymore, and it was easy enough to ask where the book lived from someone who looked new." You remember the face of a young teen staring up at Astarion as he thickly laid on the charm, eyes full of stars, and extremely receptive to his over the top flirting. You had waited a distance away, listening carefully for the moment he would wring the correct information out of them, and then moved on nonchalantly when he had.

A pair of birds flew by the open window drawing your attention upwards, the flap of their wings on the breeze and the visage of them flying paints a smile across your face as you continued. "But it wasn't just sitting on a shelf in some room behind a lock..." you look over to Gale, who is giving you his full attention, sponge poised at his abdomen. You watch the sponge slide lower and dip into the water, clenched in a firm hand, and swallow the excess saliva building in your mouth to continue your thought. "It was through a portal of sorts that took us to a strange set of rooms..." You gesture with one hand absentmindedly along with your words.

You remember both you and Astarion looking at each other in an unveiled dread as the towering walls of scrolls and tomes surrounding you meant that you would be here for hours looking for a way out. "Then it was past a maze of repeating doors, where the floor was invisible..."

You remember bracing yourself for a long jump across a chasm for an opulent looking chest, crying out when you failed the jump distance, and crashing staggeringly onto a floor that you couldn't see beneath you when you thought you were going to plummet to your death. Astarion, who had already jumped to try and catch your hand as you fell, also crashed into the invisible floor like surface and you both lay there, muscles aching and bruised from the surprise landing, above the visage of an endless terrifying abyss, feeling winded and shellshocked. You remember him saying very plainly "Fucking wizards..." and cackling loudly at his words to mask the icy sensation of terrified relief washing through your shaking bones.

"And there was a puzzle based on an old Bard's song from ages and ages ago." You remember the frustration of repeatedly walking through doors, belt tied to Astarion so you wouldn't lose each other in the magical maze, and finding yourself at the beginning over and over again, disoriented, unhappy, arguing about which path was correct, and nowhere further than where you started.

You push back from the edge of the bath, pulling your legs under you and tilt backwards to dunk your hair again, feeling your breasts rise from the water, and your belly stretch as you arch. The water filtered through the strands of your hair, washing the grime and sweat from your scalp, and coating your head and neck in a steamy embrace.

You chuckle as you continue, "When the book riddles began, I thought we were going to be locked down there forever." You right your body, feeling the rush of water release from your hair and turn toward Gale again, noticing he's already making his way to you, wading into deeper water. "We spent a long time choosing incorrect doors..." He openly appraises your form from the cover of rippling water, not bothering to hide the gaze that travels your body as he moves closer, eyes clearly dipping over the lines of your breasts, and the undulating reflections of your waist and lower extremities.

"A secret library behind a hidden portal with mysteries of the book variety that lead you to more secrets? I won't lie, I'm starting to feel like I missed out." His arms were floating at his sides, swishing back and forth as he moved closer to you in a half swim, and you watch him turn so his back is against the side of the bath and settle next to you on that jutting ledge. He raises his arms out of the water and lets them rest outstretched on either side of him along the edge of the bath, looking ever so relaxed as he lounges comfortably.

In a sudden desire to be forward, you push away from the wall, gliding around his body and setting yourself loosely on top of him, the barest hint of your feet on the outsides of his thighs as you float above him, and the touch of your fingertips on his chest just to keep yourself upright. You take a moment to trace the delicate lines of his tattoo under the water, the ominous circle at his sternum, and the rising mist that trails to one shoulder. The bicep in one arm flexes in a twitch reflex as you touch him, and his eyes trail their own path over your nudity bared before him.

"How do you know I'm not exaggerating?" You feel a sensual calm about the situation, and watch him lift one forearm to bring a hand to finger comb through his wet hair, slowly pushing the water from the strands and revealing the prominent line of his neck and a single drop of water that clings to his earring. His bicep bulges as he wrings the water from his hair, and you feel an unquiet urge to gnaw at it.

"I prefer it if you would... A good story always has embellishments here and there." A markedly noticeable ripple passes through the water behind you that gently nudges against your floating body against his chest and it's all too easy to follow the suggestion and slide your hands upwards, finger combing through his body hair, and around the back of his neck. You press even closer, letting your breasts squish against him wetly, your thighs lightly brush the sides of his waist, feeling your knees bump into the wall behind him, drawing a pleasured exhale to pass through his lips.

You whisper softly, your lips nearly touching his as they form your words, your eyes drooping to glance at his mouth, relaxed in a serene smile, "If you keep distracting me, I won't be able to remember all the details." That anticipatory excitement is back, a thrumming churn in your core as you flirt suggestively with him.

He lets his raised forearm drop back down to the stones that line the bath and dips his eyes to look at your mouth before bringing them back to your gaze. You can see the want in his features, the need creased at the outsides of his appraising smirk, and your heart pounds in anticipation. His restraint is godly, and you marvel at the sheer amount of patience he seems to have for you. He's slowly taking over your mind, making you forget the story of your adventure, forget why you were here at all, forget why you haven't already kissed him.

A hand raises to stroke up the back of your arm, cupping your shoulder, and spreading wide fingers at the large of your upper back, "I'm sure we can come up with a few embellishments to enhance the tale..." His mouth is almost close enough to taste, his breath delicate and warm on your lips, his voice soft and soothing in your ear. Your cheeks burn with the heat of blossoming arousal as his words sink in and tantalize you at the prospect of such a suggestion.

There's a deep feeling of intimacy here that strokes the romantic bones in your body, as your other experiences of this nature hadn't been so delicate, so soft, so careful. A shiver runs up your neck as his hand slowly moves lower, feeling intimately down the ridge of your spine and settling at the dip in your lower back. He's looking at you with a burning heat you can almost taste, his focus entirely upon you as if there were nothing else in the world to care about at this moment.

You suddenly don't want to hold back any longer, and use your hands to clutch the back of his neck like a lifeline, pressing your bodies together and boldly leaning forward to rest the softness of your open lips against his.

Gale's abdomen twitches between your thighs where you float and he gasps into your mouth. It feels wonderful against him, petal soft and warm, your lips caress in smooth motions, pressing gently, perusing each other, the puff of his breath tickles your skin, the line of his nose a delicate brush against your cheek.

The hand at your back slides around you slowly in a full embrace, his other hand palms up the side of your arm to delve into the wet hair at your nape, clutching you gingerly. He brings you with him as he relaxes against the stonework, taking full advantage of your water buoyancy. Your arms slip from around his shoulders to rest against the inside of his biceps squeezing the firmness, and he curls you into him, stroking your back in heavy petting motions. He's softly feeling the firm lines of your ribs with his thumbs, memorizing the figure of your waist with his palms, warming the expanse of your shoulder blades with wide hands, and tickling the plane of your neck with searching fingers.

You're draped across him as he reclines against the stone, the position a comfort in every way, your body warm from the water, and flushed from the interlude of kissing him softly, sweetly. Your lips brush his with an unhurried tenderness, connecting briefly and then releasing with a soft sound, your tongue barely a swipe against the seam of his mouth, and your breath catching in your throat. You're exploring each other in such a slow manner that time seems immoveable, as if you could lay here forever, mouths singing a song of passion without a care in the world.

He pulls back slightly and looks you over again, eyes drooping to gaze at your flushed mouth, and then leans in again to kiss you solidly with a tilt of his head in the other direction, causing you to squeeze at his biceps where you're braced. You feel his hand remove from your back, and gesture blindly in the air behind you, and suddenly the previously forgotten tactile sponge is at your shoulders, wiping in a slow caress down your spine under the water.

You gasp at the jolt of pleasure racing through your body and your hips tilt downward instinctively as your back arches. Your mouth opens against his and you moan through your breath. He teethes your lower lip gently as you gasp, not pausing for a single beat, before slowly adhering his lips to yours again, and reaches his tongue forward to caress yours in a searching slide drawing out a soft muffled whine. He embraces you fully, arms cradling your body into his, the hand with the sponge presses at your shoulder blades, squeezing it to let soapy water cascade down your skin, his other hand reaches to grasp an ankle and slowly pulls your body down through the water to sit fully on him.

As he guides you atop his lap, the noticeable column of his erection presses against the underside of your thigh and you moan again, feeling a rush of energy course through your body. You suckle on the muscle of his tongue, drawing a grunt of pleasure to escape him, followed by a nibble at your lip again, and an appreciative hum.

His searching fingers begin to make their way up your calf, around the swell of your outer thighs and hips to dip past your tailbone, and tickle the inside of your legs with delicate touches. You can feel how wet you are the moment they reach the bottom of your core and he groans heavily into your mouth, his tongue surging against yours in a sweep, the head of his dick bumping against your thigh in a noticable pulse. He swipes his fingers across the sensitive lips there, fondling the outside of your hole with a careful touch, and pressing his fingertip against the entrance so tender you can feel pressure, but remain unbreached. You gasp against his mouth again, feeling a shaky moan escape you and he slides his tongue from your lips slickly.

You're so sensitive it's driving you mad. Every nerve ending is aflame with want, your body trembles atop of his, trying to position your hips for him to have easy access by arching against him erotically. His strong embrace keeps your body close to his and he continues his probing fondling of your pussy with one hand, while using the sponge with the other, smoothing it down your arms, and sides, and across the expanse of your thighs underwater.

At what seems like the perfect tilt of your hips, his fingers slide farther up your seam, landing firmly against your clit, and you cry out again, craning your neck and shoulders back. You can feel your channel clenching inside of you, wanting those maddening fingers to explore deeper, and your whole body trembles against him in anticipation.

You can feel the path of his tongue as he worships down the side of your neck and the top of your shoulder, his kisses warm and sensual. As he coaxes your body to lean back his hand slips instead around the front of your hip to grasp at the top of your thigh, a dexterous thumb inching its way to your core. His other hand smooths the sponge up your abdomen and over a hard peaked breast trailing silky bubbles in its path, nearly distracting you from his mouth nibbling down your collarbone and the muscle of your chest, fast approaching the hanging swell of your other breast.

Your body jerks in an uncontrollable spasm when simultaneously he brushes the pad of his thumb over the front of your clit and sucks a nipple into his mouth. Your body feels like it's on fire, heated by the bath, erotically stimulated by his touch, massaged to a tender softness. You run a shaky hand down the front of his body, feeling the curves of his muscled abdomen, trailing the deep V of his pelvis, and brushing against his girth through the hair at his pubis. You raise your body in the water as you grasp him to guide him from under your thigh and in one motion trap the column of his sex and your hand between your two bodies, pressing him firmly into your belly with a gentle grasp. He moans at your breast, a soft grunt of pleasure, and you can feel the jolt of his pelvis rock forward.

"I need you to take me to your bed." Your voice is no more than a gasp as you try to find a semblance of control over your heady condition.

"A sound idea..." His voice is muffled through a mouthful of your breast, but he rights himself and clutches you tightly to his body, pressing a hand at your tailbone for more contact on his squished cock between your thighs. And he's kissing you softly again, lips brushing wetly, and tongue probing gently as he eases you both off the ledge and back into the water, ambling slowly forward to the shallows. His kisses are unhurried and slow, a wonderful tangle of tongues, the glide of saliva, he has you breathless and gasping at the same time.

He's holding you by the outside of your knees at first, calves hanging limply at his sides, guiding the both of you forward, and then adjusting his hands to cup more firmly against your thighs as your bodies begin to rise out of the water, and you respond instantly, wrapping your legs in a cross around his waist.

You feel a curious weightless sensation and realize your body is floating ambiently as he walks, drops of water from your skin hovering momentarily before falling back into the pool, the ends of your hair peeling up from where the wet strands stick against your back.

You feel the muscles at the side of his somewhat bony hips flex as he walks and his hardness brushes against your belly with each passing step. The air is chilling the skin of your back as you're exposed incrementally and a shiver works its way down your spine. You squeeze his waist between your legs solidly, wanting to hold on to any warmth you can, wanting to anchor yourself to not float away, and turn your head to mouth at his neck and jaw, licking at the water droplets that linger there.

He's nearly out of the water now, and as if on queue, a soft cloth caresses your bodies, one of his bath towels were you to guess. Your hair is lifted and toweled gently, and the fabric seems to swirl around your bodies deliciously as Gale continues his short walk to his bed.

He raises a leg to kneel on the raised mattress and then lets your body sink into the covers, the weight of your form returning. The moment your back hits the fabric, you're in a blissful caress of sheer comfort. The plush thickness of the pillows under your neck and back cradle you deeply, the softness of the bedding hugs you in a pleasant embrace, the thick mattress holds your body aloft as if in a cloud and you shudder, taken by sensation. Your moan sounds breathless and your whole body sighs of relief as you utter a quiet "Oh my god..."

As if you weren't already overstimulated by the grace of his unreal bed, Gale fits himself between your thighs with a groan of his own, sliding a hand under your shoulder blade to cup at the back of your head affectionately. His lips find their way to your face again to kiss at your lips, his drying hair brushing your cheek with a tickling softness. His other hand coaxes your legs to relax at his sides, and then travels the length of your body in a sensual stroke that has you crying out, pressing your head back into the pillows, and widening your trembling thighs on the sheets. His cock is firm as it rests in the cleft of your pussy, the ridge of its underside pressing heavily into your clit, and he rocks forward gently, causing a jolt of liquid fire to rush through your veins. You settle your calves in the junction of his knees as your legs circle around the back of his, entwining loosely.

You're desperate, needy, ready.

He rocks backward, the line of his dick sliding through the dripping wetness of your cunt, and you can feel the outline of his cockhead smear against your pussylips. You try to tilt your hips back enough for the tip to catch in your hole, wanting to feel him inside of you, but he instead rocks forward again slightly lifting his hips, the slick slide of your lubrication easing the friction of your skin contact and guiding him away from where you want him the most.

The hand at the back of your head grips your hair and pulls gently in a passive chastise. He's whispering again with hot breath in your ear, but you can feel the headiness of his words, the gruff tone of want, the rasp of his pleasure. "I will not be rushed in my own bed."

Your core clenches thickly, you're already wound so tight, you feel you may peak at his simple words, but you find yourself on the precipice, dangling dangerously close, needing more, something, anything. His spread thighs press against your ass, his body drapes atop yours, his cock rocks maddeningly at your nethers in a sinful ebb and flow, he's enveloping you thickly and you're drowning in him.

You respond in his ear, now that it's in proximity, your voice breathy and shaky, "Aren't we supposed to be making embellishments to the story?" you try to get him to rock forward properly with your feet at the back of his thighs, but he's sturdy in his kneel above you.

You feel his fingers grasp your hair again and he looks down at you, playfulness etched across his handsome features at your casual toss of his own words back at him. He pulls gently on the strands again drawing a moan from your open mouth at the sensation, and a squeeze of your thighs at his hips. "I find that stories are most enjoyable when I can savor them." He certainly seems to be enjoying playing the instrument of your body masterfully to the tune of his own melody.

Your fingers find their way up his neck to clutch at his own wavy silken hair, mimicking the way he's teasing you, your elbows resting on his shoulders as you cradle the back of his head, listening to his low murmuring. "So let me savor you..."

He moves up the line of your jaw to kiss you again, deeply surging into your mouth with his tongue, a low moan buzzing against your lips. The feeling of his tongue filling your mouth instantly makes you imagine the way his cock would fill your body and you shudder under him, desperate to fall over the peak of your desire, trembling in pulsating quakes, quietly whining in an uneven tone. You can feel the way he's clutching at your body, that incredible font of patience he seems to carry controlling your gradual rise to oblivion with each intentionally slow press of his hips. At one well placed thrust, his cockhead slides thickly against your clit and you spasm under him at the sharp sensation, spurting a dribble of wetness around the base of his cock reflexively that soaks the bottom of your pussy and the cleft of your cheeks.

He grunts into your mouth at the sensation, no doubt feeling how ready your body is for him, and on the next rock backward he's catching the head of his prick on your undulating hole, and pushing through your entrance in a smooth heartstopping slide. Your body immediately convulses heavily, finally releasing, clamping tightly around him, caressing his length in involuntary flutters, and a breathless exclamation of unbridled pleasure escapes you at the full sensation. You hands squeeze his shoulders and your shaking thighs cradle his hips as your back arches beneath him, the searing heat of your connection causing ripples of pleasure to radiate through your body.

He slides his tongue from your mouth, moving to teethe your shoulder in a breath warmed bite, and loudly moans into your skin. He's grasping the underside of your waist and back in a tight embrace, relishing in the welcoming tilt of your pelvis, cradling your body against his warmly. You can feel the shift of his legs spread sideways, and the flex of his abdomen against yours, and he adjusts slightly to press a little deeper inside of you.

His forehead is pressed into the curve of your neck, and an open mouth high pitched groan fills the air as he pulls several inches from you and then slides back in heavily. Fuck... Your core is drooling for him, you're pussy lips dewy as they squish against his pelvic bone, and your clit engorged from bloodflow. You direct your thighs to widen, to raise your knees, winding your body around his sensually, and cross your legs behind him, feeling the smooth rhythm of his lower back and pelvis undulate in a graceful wave.

The slow churn he begins is just as maddening as his gentle teasing, his hot breath is coming in pants against your collarbone, his fingers are stroking the skin at your shoulders and the back of your head in a delicate grasp, his hips bumping yours with every plunge, your bellies rubbing together sensually, its sinful how good it is. You're whining into the air, eyes closed, sensationalized by the experience that is Gale, fully submerged in the erotic dance of his passion, responsive to every touch, every kiss, every thrust. Stars dance in your eyes as you feel him gently push through your slick walls in a delicate rhythm and you arch your back, loving the erotic feel of writhing beneath him on his dreamy bed.

He's pressing inside of you deeply, swollen and thick, dragging out your shared pleasure with mindfully tender strokes and you can tell he's nearly lost in the feel of your body as he sucks on your skin, and grips you to him with frantic hands. He's tugging on your hair again, pulling a moan from your lips and a reflexive pulse around his sheathed cock, squeezing him delightfully, undulating warmly.

He adjusts to sit up, pulling his knees beneath him, and your legs unwind to relax at your sides, opening fully for him as he rocks forward in an agonizingly small thrust. You feel the depth as he's closer to you than before, your cunt fully sheathing every inch of his cock, pressed upon him by his firm hands now at the swell of your hips, holding you in place in his cushioned sheets, burying himself wonderfully deep. He's pulsing within you slowly, probing as if the stretch might be too much, or not wanting to leave the silken clutch of your quivering hole, and as you look up at him, his entire being radiates an immeasurable pleasure.

His mouth is open in a blissful gasp, his eyebrows tilted upwards in a euphoric crease, his neck and shoulder muscles are taut; he's breathing deeply, holding you tightly to him, his arms bunching as he feels the soft of your belly, and positions the tilt of your hips erotically, his abdomen flexing between your spread legs with each rock forward.

He's steady as he fucks you into his mattress with excruciatingly tender pulses, enveloping himself in your wanting sheath, anchoring your bodies together tightly, pushing you to climb slowly towards another crest of orgasmic bliss. You feel yourself clamp down in anticipation, the wet glide of his cock measured and unhurried and he gasps sharply in response. His hands guide your legs upward to rest on his chest and turns his head to one side, gnawing softly on your ankle, sucking at the side of your foot, kissing your toes.

You can feel your body hurtling over the edge before your mind catches up, your pussy frantically undulating around him, your legs shaking in his arms, your whole body trembling around the gush of your absolutely soaked cunt. Gale's moan catches in his throat as your pussy strangles him, and he holds the outside of your still quivering thighs tightly against his body, gasping audibly as your core undulates in sensitive waves around his prick.

All at once you feel that weightless sensation again as he pulls you toward him by the sides of your waist, and your legs relax open again to wrap around him as your body floats upwards. He fits you around his body, and clutches at your lower back, remaining throbbing and heavy inside of you, and you wind your arms around his shoulders, cupping his head and neck to kiss him again.

There's a zap of magic that encircles you, a tactile sensation of raw energy crackling smoothly like embers in a fire. Your damp hair rises around you as if you were back in the water and there's a twinkling mist surrounding the bed, swirling in glittering streams, and undulating like an unfolding galaxy of stars. There's a rushing sensation and you realize he's floating with you, the fabric of his bedding swirling in soft and silky tendrils around you, endlessly siding over your bodies like falling ribbons. You're slowly turning in the air above the mattress, and find yourself above him, gasping wildly as he kisses down your neck and massages the thick of your thighs, holding them apart.

You're so full of him you hardly can focus on anything other than the heat, the sensuality, the slow cascade of tenderness that he worships you with.

You're trembling in his care, the ache of his soft gentleness warming your core and igniting the heat of a deep passion flooding your bones, causing shivers to cascade over your skin at how sensitive you are. He slides out of you slowly, and turns your body to embrace you from behind leaving you wanting and open and soaked. His lips are at your neck, mouthing sweetly, an arm snakes around your waist to squeeze a peaked breast, another arm smooths your skin down your abdomen to spread your pussy with his fingers, and he's sinking in again with a lilting groan in your ear.

You feel the awareness of gravity and suddenly he's reclining against his pillows, clutching you atop him, hands holding your waist, rocking rhythmically into you from below. You see his knees raise from between your own thighs, and you relax into his body, letting his hands pull your knees apart to rest the weight of your legs upon his. You feel the pleasure radiate from your cunt, alighting you in tremors of ecstasy that have you moaning around puffs of your heated breath and dropping your head to lay at his shoulders, your neck in an erotic arch, your arms stretching behind you to finger at his wavy hair in a backwards embrace. His chest is warm at your back and you feel completely enveloped, melting under the ministrations of his lips and tongue at the nape of your neck. You relax heavily into him, a sigh escaping you as you try to get as much skin contact as you can, fully submitting to the feeling of his cock sliding to and fro inside your weeping hole.

There's a heavy dip in the bed and you snap your eyes open in alarm, instantly searching for what caused it, only to see a second Gale, one knee atop the bedding, fisting the turgid length of his own prick. He's an exact replica, in every way, down to his damp freshly bathed hair, and stylish earring, and you let out a stuttering breath, surprised, and moderately intrigued. There's a mystical glow to his edges that curls through the strands of his wavy hair, and accentuates the curves of his muscles, and you stare headily at him as he bends forward, reaching to finger up the sides of your calves.

You're being fondled by two Gale's. One impaling you at your center in a deeply intimate caress, rocking his cock inside you wetly, palming your breasts, kissing at your nape, embracing you around your waist, invading your every sense. And another fitting himself at your front, firstly leaning over to kiss at your open lips, and tongue your mouth like Gale had previously, and then making his way down your neck to suck the hardness of a nipple into his talented mouth.

Your body follows suit, clutching at Gale's dick inside of you in a wicked spasm, the stimulation from two Gales overwhelmingly erotic and excitingly novel. The more he licks at your breasts, the more your body tilts into Gale at your back, the more you drip for him, the more you open your mind to new possibilities. You can hear his voice rasping in your ear, a choked gasp accompanying it when you pulse wildly around his prick from new stimulation. "You're a dream, aren't you..."

You reach out to grasp the form of Gale at your front, marveling at how solid he seems, impressed by the magic wielded to create him, and he relaxes into you, using teeth to nibble on your areolas and hands steady at your ribs, and you twitch in Gale's hold, careening your head back, and arching through the sensations.

"This has to be a dream because I thought you only made apparitions..." You have a difficult time getting the words out through the combined sensations of your core, and your body spread apart in every way.

The Gale at your neck chuckles lowly, he's panting in your ear, churning your insides steadily, a warm hand cupping your belly in a deeply intimate gesture. "Convincing, isn't he?" Second Gale is now sliding his hands down the insides of your thighs where you're bared open and leaning to lick at your belly button between Gale's hands, his wet tongue warm and writhing, teeth grazing the curve of your lower abdomen.

You crane your head to watch, hips jerking into Gale behind you with every dip of his tongue, your own body shivering through overstimulated nerves. One of Gale's hands palms the top of his double's head and pushes him lower and you moan at the vision of his muscled hand in the wavy strands of his own hair. The slick path his mouth takes as he kisses lower on your body gives rise to a heart pounding anticipation, knowing where he's headed, and not sure what to expect. His tongue dips around your outer lips, tickling the inside of your thigh before lapping at your connection solidly.

You yelp at the dual sensation, jerking your hips into the solid form at your back, and hear Gale similarly gasp as his double works his tongue over the both of you, suckling your clit and slathering your stretched lips, mouthing the base of his own cock as it rests inside of you, worshiping where you're joined with an oral dexterity that is masterful. The sheer sensation takes you instantly into the clouds, your body wetly contracts, shivering uncontrollably, trembling ecstatically, and you're being held apart, unable to close yourself to the overstimulating pleasure, violently coming again in jerking spasms and cries of rapture.

Through your cloudy bliss, you hear Gale unsteadily in your ear "That's it, beautiful, I can't get enough of the way you feel..." He's petting your hair, your arms, your whole body as you come down roughly, shaking in convulsions. The Gale between your legs is licking your clit delicately, smoothing the quivering skin with that dexterous tongue, laving your slick skin slowly, and kissing up the inside of your thigh when you settle.

"He's very convincing..." You manage a response as your breathing evens out into a sharp exhale of disbelief, a smile splitting your flushed face at the mere novelty of this experience. You feel his face come closer from behind you and he rests his cheek on yours, similarly panting. He's still stroking your body softly, massaging your muscles carefully, cupping your curves and edges, remaining fairly still within your clenching hole.

"I can make him say anything I want..." Gale's double sais through a mouthful of your thigh and you moan softly at the tickling sensation, enamored with the perfect likeness of his voice and mannerisms. He rocks into you, testing your sensitivity. You're still reeling from your previous jaunt through the cosmos and you gasp around a warbly "Ah... Fuck" feeling Gale kiss your cheek down to your jaw, and then along the plane of your neck again.

The double pushes on your hips, lifting you from his cock, and releasing Gale from your cunt with a slick squelch, speaking again from your core. "I can make him do anything I want..." His breath by your ear turns into a strangled grunt and a heavy gasp and he's once again mouthing at your shoulder, causing you to look down between your splayed legs.

Gale is avidly sucking on the length of his own prick, bobbing his head slowly, his forehead bumping your inner thigh with every downstroke, soft slurping sounds flitting through the ambient air. You're incredulous, more turned on than you have ever felt before, and have a novel new appreciation for Gale's hidden propensities.

"I never would have guessed..." You moan in a pitchy breath, feeling another spurt of your own wetness prime the inside of your quivering pussy just from watching. You wish you could see more of how he was pleasuring himself but you only get the view of the top of his head, and his muscled shoulders as he continues. You hear an audible slurp, and the low masculine groan of pleasure below you and feel yourself tremble in want. The sheer confidence of being both willing and able to suck his own cock during sex entices you, impresses you, enraptures you.

Gale at your back grunts softly, "What, I regularly make an exact replica of myself with the grace of the weave, and you think I haven't enjoyed the exquisite sensation of my own mouth before?" He's groaning, gasping around his words, and you crane your neck to see the hint of gritted teeth before he's pressing his head firmly against the pillows behind you. The muscles in his neck clench, his belly at your back heaves, his hands grip your waist tightly, and his thighs spasm under you.

He gasps lightly, and grunts through another sentence "Ask any man in confidence if given the chance to perform for themselves if they might partake, and you might be surprised at how many would consider." There's a particularly loud sucking sound below you and you watch as his double slips Gale from his mouth, tongue reaching for your hole again, delving inside of you, coaxing the font of your pleasure to well up again, pool slickly between your lips, and drip down the curve of your ass.

You're moaning, pressing your body into his, shuddering at his tongue wriggling inside of you where his dick had been. He was right of course, his mouth is exquisite, unfairly so. You grip him anywhere you can reach, wanting to see his face again, "Turn me, turn me..." and you're once again awash with the ethereal sensation of being ambiently lifted by the weave, turned gracefully and fitted snugly astride his lap, your legs pressing into the softness of his covers, breasts squished against his chest, your arms holding him close once more.

You lean down to kiss him and suckle softly on his bottom lip, craving that close intimate passion he gave you before, and he acquiesces instantly, holding you close, stroking your body, kissing you leisurely. His double fits his face between your thighs again behind you, not hindered by your repositioned form, and tenderly laps at you, swirling the glide of your slick wetness around your hole. You moan and gasp into Gale's mouth, the drip of your pussy and the slurping dexterity of his talented tongue a maddening combination of sensuality. "What else do you want to have him do?" You're interested, intrigued, ready for more.

Gale's arms wrap around you, feeling your arched back, your shoulders, petting your hair, keeping you anchored to his chest firmly. "I want to make him fuck you so I can watch." His low words against your lips are gravelly, raspy, needy. You moan softly, pleading sweetly, not knowing exactly how badly you wanted this, needed this, until now.

The lapping sinful tongue disappears from your core and two hands smooth up the back at your hips, muscled legs fitting themselves between your spread knees and Gale's trim waist, and suddenly his cock is inside you again, pressing, pushing, spreading you deeply. You cry out, your body shaking atop his, still drippingly sensitive and wanting, still absolutely soaked and ready. Gale grasps the back of your thighs in two palms, holding you steady as his double grips your waist, taking full advantage of your exposed core to pump inside of you.

His swollen length is tunneling a path of heat in and out of your body, the head of his prick pressing along the back of your walls in an achingly sensitive slide. You can feel the tickle of his pubic hair at your lips with every thrust, and you squeeze his girth every time he bottoms out. Your body is held steady by four hands and he takes you to new heights, driving you slowly to another peak, breaking you apart in the most wondrous of ways. The hands at your thighs gently squeeze, pulling you wider for his cock and the stretch feels both unreal, and too sensitive all at once. The pooling wetness of your cunt squeezes him every time he leaves, and sucks him tightly every time he enters.

A hand that was at one of your thighs reaches between you to feel at your clit, and you cry out loudly, shaking against Gale's chest, clamping around his cock as he pumps solidly into you. Your knees are blocked open by both of his legs, your waist and hips braced to accept his pulsating unrelentingly gentle pace, your clit fondled by deft fingers, all of it drives your mind to blankness. He slows even more, leaving you to dangle on the crest of mindless bliss, seeming to know exactly what he's doing to edge you further and further into a rapturous headspace without actually falling over.

Gale's voice in your ear is heated, "Goddess, is this how you take me?" He moans headily, his own cock throbbing wetly against your inner thigh. He's fondling your connection, palming his own sack, feeling his girth as it spreads you, smearing the dripping slickness over his fingers and around the base of his sheathed dick, dipping around your labia, and feeling how your hole squeezes him.

You're pleading into his shoulder, mouthing his neck as you moan and bite and teethe his skin, quivering atop him. The hand massaging your mound is truly maddening, pressing your clit in circular motions, spreading the sodden lips of your core around his thrusting cock, feeling the tactile sensation of sex with you as he gnaws your shoulder softly.

"I can make him come the way I do..." He's still feeling your cunt, massaging your clit. "...fill you the way I want to." His voice is rough, needy, heady.

You moan loudly at the sheer eroticism and feel your core flutter steadily, ready to release, ready to accept. "Yes, Gale, fuck, please." You're whining, gyrating your hips, eager to feel him, desperate to come again.

His girth swells slightly, throbbing hotly within you and you gasp loudly, flutters of undulations roll in waves down your cavern and Gale moans loudly behind you, beginning to thrust sharply, quickly, deeply. Gale's fingers at your core spread your lips around his thrusting cock in a V, opening you, baring you, holding you apart for his cock as it slides back and forth through the opening.

You feel a blissful relief as you crash through an intense surprising orgasm, crying into his shoulder as you drool over his skin. He's still holding you in place as he fucks you avidly through your peak, prying your pussylips apart gently, battering your slick wanting walls with his hot prick, elongating your pleasure for several agonizing beats. You're visibly shaking atop of Gale as he continues, you can feel the way your cunt suckles along the length of his sex, clutching him tightly with every wet pass of his prick. He pulses within you several times splashing hot ropes of seed into your hole and then slowly pulling his throbbing length from inside you, smearing extra dribbles of his oozing seed across your swollen pussylips. He's gasping loudly behind you, moaning in bursts of relief and satisfaction.

The feeling is incredible. Thick drops of his spend coat your lips in a sticky essence, your pussy convulses wetly around the rest of his come inside of you, the head of his cock swipes gently up the flared lips of your seam as he wipes off any lingering droplets. Gale's hands stroke your back in heavy petting motions, praising you sweetly in your ear, kissing your cheeks and jaw, fingering the cockhead at your opening surely slick with your mixed fluid, and dipping into your hole curiously.

Without missing a beat, the double at your back lightly presses down on your tailbone, causing you to sit. You feel him grasp Gale's cock below you, align it with your spread hole, and guide you to take in Gale again, thick and full masted and ready for you.

You cry out again and wrench yourself upright, pressing down on his chest, feeling your quaking legs not work properly, and your pussy clamp down as you sheathe him once again. You're clenching spastically, contracting with overstimulation, inflamed and swollen. His cock is pushing his seed that had been dribbling all over the lips of your cunt back inside as deep as he can sit, and it sends you to the stars and back. The squish is obscene, you're so full of Gale it drips around his girth as he penetrates you, and lubricates his presence inside you in a wet slippery glide. He's rocking into you with smooth flexes, holding your thighs astride his hips with strong hands, your connection unbearably sodden.

Your mind threatens to permanently leave as your bodies lift into the air again, the glimmer of his magic surrounds you in a wash of sensuality, every sense open and alive, and connected. You clutch him tightly to your body, whining moans of overstimulated pleasure ringing through the air, your legs dangle around him, keeping him close. The soft bedding is fluttering around you, the draped curtains rise and ripple in the air, the mystical glimmer of the weave tickles your body and mind, and Gale surges within you deeply.

He's driving into you smoothly, thrusting upwards into your body, holding you tightly, grasping your hair and cupping your face as if he never wanted to let you go, kissing you deeply, matching the rhythm of his cock with the sinful slide of his tongue. You're losing yourself, drifting in a galaxy of stars as you feel him climb towards his edge, the slap of your laps colliding together echoes in your ears as your whole body seems to leave the stratosphere. His hands grasp at your belly, and he's releasing inside of you again, a strangled grunt escaping his open mouth. His hair is wild about his face, neck clenched, chest heaving, abdomen flexing, and you can feel the violent throb of his dick inside of you as his muscles spasm.

The gentle rocking of his hips continue as you intimately entwine, wrapped tightly around each other, somehow knowing he doesn't want to let go anymore than you do. He's kissing you softly again, threading fingers through your hair, cradling your head, supporting your trembling body afloat. You're ambiently turning in the air as you lazily kiss him, appreciating the deep gesture of care he shows you as the moment wanes, and the sexual bliss recedes. The frantic need is abating, leaving a heated passion in its wake, coating you in soft intimate feelings of connection, desire, affection.

You can feel the comedown ambiently, the glittering thrumming magic dissipating, the bedding falling limply, the draping curtains no longer swaying, the pulsing rush of your senses closing off from one another again. As he pulls back from your mouth, you watch his eyes blink and refocus and he swallows thickly, bringing his hand up to tuck your hair behind an ear and hold the back of your head. You smile down at him still feeling a want to continue kissing him, but close your eyes instead, resting your forehead on his, feeling his hand cradle the nape of your neck, his other arm embrace you softly, You're breathing heavily, panting hotly against each other, bellies swelling and abating with rapid breath as you try to calm the racing sensations of stimulation.

You're gently lowering, floating downward, your back settling among the covers again, enveloped in the comfortable bliss of his plush bedding, feeling the weight return to your body, and Gale drapes himself over the top of you with a groan, his cock softening, his muscles trembling, his panting breath slowing. He taps twice in quick succession on the side of your thigh and you uncross your legs from behind his back, letting him pull out of you and collapse on the bed beside you. You sigh deeply, feeling him drip out of you slowly, letting your quivering body relax next to his and grasp around the covers for his arm, fumbling with tired fingers until you clasp his hand within yours, entwining digits. He breathes steady and squeezes your fingers in his, running his thumb over the top of your hand in a tender caress.

That romantic feeling in your breast rises again, blooming into a delicate coy sensation, and you think to turn toward him for a cuddle but find he's already of the same mindset.

You meet him halfway, tucking your face into his neck and slinging an arm around his naked back. Gale curls around you, his lips rest on the crown of your head, his arms loosely encircling your waist. It's warm and comfortable, and there's a heady feeling that affirms how effortless it was to surrender the reins and experience the gravitational pull that is Gale, and how wonderful he made you feel. Your body throbs pleasantly, a soreness you welcome and internally covet.

After several long pleasant minutes of cuddling you speak your mind. "I never want to leave here." you say placidly. You're cut off from the stresses outside, as if in an entirely different plane, nothing to worry about except your own self.

He breathes deeply, and hums in agreement. "One day we won't have to. As it is, there's always something else, books to steal, murders to solve, companions to help, artifacts to dissect..." he pauses with a lilting amusement "...gift giving intruders in my tent to bathe with."

You laugh softly, and pat his back with a soft tap. "Stories to embellish..."

"I very much enjoyed adding our embellishments to the tale." He's combing fingers through your hair and looking at you with an addictive mischief about his face.

"I enjoyed it too. I wonder what else we could've added to enhance the tale." You're comfortable, relaxed, more at peace than you've felt in the last few days, and awash in a much needed tranquility away from the hectic life of Baldur's Gate.

"I'd suggest another bath, but I must admit I do not have the energy for such a tryst presently." He rolls on his back and tosses an arm above his head, a teasing smile about his face, his chest bare in the late afternoon sun. You sit up slowly to face him, the jiggle of your thighs exacerbating the ache at your core, and you settle on one hip leaning against his body, knees near his shoulder, feet stretched out to the side. "Not to worry, however," He looks over at you and lays his other arm over your legs, settling a palm against your naked hip. "I happen to possess a surplus of creativity in that department and have no shortage of creative outlets by which I can provide." There's a slight squeeze from his hand at your hip, and he's feeling down the skin of your thigh again, "whether it be trinkets, or artifacts... doubles, or even possibly, with some practice maybe, triples..."

You can feel your eyes widening at his suggestion, the meaning of his words not lost upon you and you drop your jaw aghast. Two Gale's were almost too much, and there were many things you didn't have the opportunity to try out on his double, but three, three you're unsure about, albeit curious. You feel a flush rising and think to fan yourself when his other comment stalls you.

"Wait back up-" you gesture around the room "-These are all sex toys?" The magnitude of magical items spread around this room wasn't just noticeable, it was eye catching. Things of all shapes and sizes, trinkets that you had ignored before, artifacts of an unknown nature you had passed by suddenly were now intrinsically interesting considering your recent tumble in his sheets

"He looks at you slightly sheepish. "Well certainly not all of them..."

You're shuffling off the bed before he has a chance to finish his sentence, chaotically kicking the covers away, sliding off his sheets, beelining in unsteady shaky and disorienting steps for the nearest shelf and swiping the first trinket you see to take a look.

It's a golden band of thin metal with a seven pointed star at one end, bejeweled intricately in blue gems. You peer carefully at it from all angles, fascinated. It looks bigger than a ring and smaller than a bracelet, but not quite the size of anything in between, and Gale is laughing at you quite heartily from his bed, having sat up at your frantic rush, most likely startled by your uncharacteristically excitable actions.

"That is a simple hair ornament you can send a message through." He coughs lightly to calm his zealous chuckle, but can't seem to contain his amusement through a wide grinning smile as he teases you, "Not very sexy unfortunately... although you could deign to send a lewd message through it, and perhaps then it could be classified as you'd like it."

You look at him genuinely interested as you put the Sending piece back down on a shelf. "I want to try them all."

He lets himself fall back on the bed with a sharp "Hah!" The rumpled tent of his bent legs under the covers blocks your vision of his face but you hear him speak as genuinely as you had. "Oh yes, all in due time."

It's morning again when you finally exit Gale's living quarters, and return to society, the pile of your dirty gear in your arms, and your form barely covered with a borrowed shirt. You had returned to bed, enjoyed another bottle of wine, and slept so peacefully sound within the comfort of Gale's embrace and his warm bed that you feel like an entirely new person. There's no avoiding Gale's nosy neighbor, standing at the entrance to Gale's tent, as if waiting for you to magically appear.

"Have fun, darling?" Astarion's voice was taunting, teasing, but also softly settled, just for your ears it seems, and not for the whole camp this time. "I see you were able to find our resident wizard."

He's not blind. Gale's austere tunic is a stark contrast to your normal attire, and accompanied with no pants, exposed hips through the side slitted seams, and bared feet.

"I should ask you the same." Your snappish retort earns you a very careful quirk of one slender brow, and his expression morphs into one of intrigue, curiosity. "I heard about your routine snooping, pick up anything of a particular interest you'd like to share?" You're not mincing words, Astarion had to have snatched one of Gale's "creative outlets" as he described earlier.

He smiles a wide jovial smile, lips stretched, teeth glinting, and he cackles, sounding surprised but clearly pleased. "Cheeky this morning, aren't you." An air of dramatic mystery coats his unspoken words, a confirmation of your accusation. "I wonder what put such a pep in your step."

You copy his mystery, not one to kiss and tell. But it's hard not to flirt with someone who's ambient persona exudes an unapologetic penchant for philandering. You give him a performative hum, and tap a finger to your lip, pretending to think deeply.

"I can't really say... ever try out the bath?"