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Divulging Divinity

Summary:

Ashla is worrying about her identity as a demigod trying desperately to hide it from Gale

Notes:

I’ve been experimenting with her character a lot so sorry if there’s some inconsistency from my last works…. Might rewrite this when I have her full story written out!

Anyways this takes place in Act 1

Work Text:

Gale was idling away at camp. His eyes scanning across a book when he looked up to see Ashla. He smiled seeing his new friend and potential lover approach him.

 

He had finally revealed that he was once with a goddess and had told her about how Tara wanted him be among mortal friends. When Gale told Ashla that her heart stopped, she was the only one in the party who had not revealed who she was. Withers was the only person who knew what she was, being apart of Jergal. Ashla had hypothesized one of the reasons they were sent to help the party, it had to do with something her, being one of Oghma’s children. Maybe the gods were  looking after them.

 

Ashla joked about how she was secretly a nymph in disguise but truly was anxious about who she was. Her demigod divinity was going to be revealed, gods she was screwed if she kept this a secret much longer.

 

Her gaze was full of uncertainty as she looked at him with love, she was falling for him. She had fallen for him first and she worried how he would look at her if she revealed who she was. Gale looked so sad whenever he mentioned his goddess, Mystra. Ashla had vowed that she would never to mention her father.

 

The days following were a blur. Ashla’s great sword felt as heavy as the burdens of my secrets. She felt as her lungs were bursting. She struggled to keep up with the group more often than she did before, staying behind more often with Gale. Ashla knew it wasn’t the weight of her enchanted armor nor her plush body in general, it was her anxieties. It made her stomach churn when combat was being affected, she needed to get herself under control. As the smell of gore filled Ashla’s senses she was brought back to the temple in Waterdeep, The Font of Knowledge.

 

Ashla was born to a Seldarine drow and an unknown glorious human man, and left in the care of a scholar whose name she had long forgotten unintentionally. When Ashla got older, she began to learn and feel a connection to Oghma. The want to keep his balance in the pursuit of knowledge became her only goal, which was when she took the oath as his paladin. Ashla wanted to gift her father’s knowledge to all, the empowering knowledge and balance freeing. She was somehow always out of place, yet always in the right place to aid people, her goodness proving her divinity. Suddenly, Ashla was pulled from the memories with a sharp piercing pain in her neck.

 

She felt as an arrow went through the gorget of her armor. Gods, the enchanted arrow had pierced my neck and my amber like blood that was littered with gold began to ooze from the wound, a duergar had been able to get through. Her eyes widened as she collapsed. Her breath ragged as she lay on the cold fungi covered underdark.

 

Shadowheart’s healing word did nothing. The party which consisted of Ashla, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Gale were all out of healing potions and scrolls of reviving. Ashla felt as Gale cradled her body, his deep brown eyes that reminded her of the forests stared into her eyes as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Her ichor like blood leaked onto his skin revealing what she was to him. His eyes widened realizing she like Astarion kept her identity a secret, of course she wasn’t as malicious as him, not being a vampire.

 

Ashla’s eyes glazed over everything going dark for her. Gale began to panic, his thoughts were swirling as his mind was coming up with so many questions. Why did she hide it from him? Gale watched as Karlach lifted up Ashla for him. Gale still held the arrow that had been in her throat, a thin layer of her demigod ichor staining it.

 

“Please be careful,” Gale pleaded to Karlach.

 

He was cursing under his breath as Ashla laid lifeless in Karlach’s arms. The expression on her face showed a peaceful state. As the party walked in silence Gale was slowly realizing that perhaps he had trusted Ashla too quickly, after all he poured out his whole dark secrets while she had revealed nothing. He needed  answers now.

 

Once they were back at camp Ashla was laid out on a fungi before Withers. The humanoid who looked dehydrated was chanting a spell to breathe life back into her lungs. Gale looked at her with such worry, he knew that  this was probably making the Netherse orb swirl, reacting to his anxieties and his anger towards Ashla. While Ashla had every right to her own secrets, it frustrated him how she didn’t trust him. Had he not opened himself up like a delicate book to her hand? Had he not served his deepest secrets to her on a silver platter? Sure, it was done to protect the party if not the world, but he desperately wanted her approval, just like she desperately wanted his. Gale looked away for a moment massaging his chest trying to calm the hungry orb, when he heard her soft breaths.

 

ASHLA! By the gods!” Gale shouted.

 

Ashla was shaken when she heard Gale’s voice. She felt as Gale wrapped his arms around her body. Her body was still sore, not used to being alive again. She massaged her neck feeling the scar that went through the Mortal Strike, Oghma’s long sword, on her throat.

 

Ashla whispered, “how long was I dead?”

 

Gale looked at her with worry replying softly, “six hours, Ashla.”

 

Ashla was heard audibly gulping. When she tried to stand her body was immediately weak, gravity pulling on her unnaturally. She planted herself back on the fungi makeshift bed. 

 

Withers reprimanded her, “Patients child, you need to adjust being alive. Give yourself an hour, I will be gone for now.”

 

Ashla nodded slowly bringing her knees to her chest. She looked like a ball as she sat on the large hard fungi. She felt as Gale sat beside her, his hand rubbing up and down her back trying to comfort her. The gesture was kind yet there was a hidden message behind the touch, one of fear and longing. Ashla wouldn’t be the first to speak embarrassed  that she had died just hours prior, plus she knew her secret had been revealed.

 

Gale cleared his throat, “we need to talk, Ashla.”

 

Ashla felt as her newly beating heart was hammering. She was so afraid of what he would bring up, if he was angry at her, or if he would reprimand her for her recklessness. Ashla looked at him anxiously, the tall half drow trying to make herself as small as possible.

 

Ashla squeaked out a whisper, “yes?”

 

Gale sighed, “why did you hide this from us? I have no want to tell your secret, but I want to know why in all of Faerûne you hid this from us, most importantly me. After I was honest with you.”

 

Ashla looked away, shame in her eyes as she leaned into her knees once again. She felt her eyes beginning to well with tears, ashamed of what she had done. She was extremely sensitive and extremely exhausted.

 

Ashla whispered, “I’m sorry, I kept it from you… I am the weakest out of all my siblings, I barely consider myself a demigod. You mentioned how your friend  wanted you to be with mortal friends, I worried you would no longer wish to be in my company if you knew the truth.”

 

Gale’s eyes softened at her answer. His gaze was gentle as he felt their hands brushed against one another. Her eyes met his when their hands touched, an unfamiliar intimacy that would not be brought up.

 

Gale sighed, “Ashla, you are my companion. I would never dream of abandoning you for something magnificent like that, you would not abandoned me for my curse, why would I leave you for your blessing?”

 

Ashla was startled by his answer. She leaned her head against his shoulder, comfortable silence was shared between the two. Something was blossoming, something beautiful and dangerous. Gale felt as her violet hair tickled his skin, uncertainty behind his eyes as the two sat together. Maybe he too was falling for her.

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