#I think about how Gale KNOWS romance but doesn't exactly...know romance shown unto himself.

[recitedemise]

𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗪𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗠. Gale hasn't felt tenderness. Has seldom witnessed patience. In fact, Gale's experience with love is more a prolonged excursion, a trial in the mayhem of a storm-brewed hell. Unknown to warmth, he has propped up every pillar of fondness beneath obedience's half-cobbled roof. He's learned that reverence is essential, that to kneel is entirely expected, and to gaze up at the eyes of a cold, cold lover is a treasure, an honor, and a mighty gift. So, he knows of love, but hasn't felt at all its comforting touches. He's read of dinners and wooing and has dreamt of them, too, and though he's nursed want in his musings, ever bleeding with his heart, love outside his bones remains a tome among a shelf, its pages in a tongue he hasn't yet understood. He hasn't savored decency; he's never shared her bed. And while Gale thinks to love another is captivation and a loyalty most unwithering, to love Gale Dekarios is a list without a start. See, Gale believes his famine is his bloating on a feast. He's been thrust headlong into squalls, into a long, loveless affair, and he thinks its burning at his mouth is what kisses should feel like. In fact, the creep of frostbite, cruel and cold, is all he knows of a lover's hands.

This is Mystra's legacy. Gale suspects something is wrong only months, a year later.