#Ma'lais | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

galedekarios · 1 year ago

Text

how close you are (two hearts beating a perfect rhythm)

ever since i first played through the test of love with gale, i couldn't stop thinking about what if he had to answer questions of his own. so this is that, completely self-indulgent. 🖤

~*~

"What is the drow’s favourite colour?"

Someone less inclined towards forgiveness, towards acceptance, than Gale would say red. Altonaufein knows he had spilled enough blood in his past for it to be an answer to the dryad’s question–and one he would accept.

Yet the thought of it alone brings memories with it. Unwelcome. Unkind.

(There is blood everywhere. I’m lost in it. I breathe blood, not air–)

Mal’ai. Calm.

With a shake of his head and a deep breath, Altonaufein’s eyes, blood red themselves, dart to Gale’s. The wizard’s patient gaze meets his before warm brown eyes widen. Perhaps the drow has given himself away with this glance alone.

“Brown,” Gale says and the answer is so uncharacteristically short for the man that it speaks of his surprise, the right answer coming to him in a moment of realisation.

~*~

“Where does the worst of his scars linger?”

Gale knows intimately what lies hidden under the heavy chain mail and gambeson, protected further by a simple linen undershirt: A web of raised scars on the drow’s back, a testament of his sisters’ unimaginable cruelty. He had run his hands over each lash mark, touch light as a feather, perhaps to offset the violence that had caused them.

Still, Gale knows all too well that some hurts run far deeper.

“He fears what happened: What he doesn't remember and what he does remember.”

He will not say more, not even here, in the privacy of this illusion around them, and the way Altonaufein’s eyes–not the colour of blood, not to Gale, but priceless rubies–glow softly with the affection the cleric feels at the man's thoughtfulness. And the dryad has her answer.

~*~

“When does Altonaufein feel safest?”

Once–not so long ago–the answer might have been nowhere. Later then, with his two scimitars in hand would have been true.

Now, both would be a lie.

He had felt it first as Karl held him close, knowing just who he was and what he had done.

Kulg Llarzoran Ithrana d'qu'ellar Hlarahel.

Jaluk.

Auflaque.

Dirt elf.

Alton.

The broadness of the man had felt like a haven instead of a threat in a way perhaps only one of the Ilmatari could.

He had felt it again as he had been cradled in the Weave, Gale knowing his every thought and every desire, every part of himself that was dark and ugly, light and beautiful.

“Being known and accepted for who he is, that is… true safety to him.”

~*~

Drawn together by the bond between them, a push and pull both have followed, Gale realises just how close they are to each other when a calloused hand brushes against his cheek.

“Ussta ssussun.”

He knows only a handful of words in Drowic, most of them from late nights and some early mornings at the Yawning Portal, though he has made it his mission to learn more–still, even so, Gale knows this endearment well:

My light.

-------

drowic translation:

-ma'lai = idiot -kulg ("male offspring in the house", lit. meaning "dirt") llarzoran ("three" bc he's the third-born) ithrana (name of his mother) qualla hlarahel ("of house hlarahel") -jaluk = male -auflaque = dog -ussta ssussun = my light

#i don't even know what to tag this as #anyhow feeling stressed so editing my mushy hcs into ficlets #otp: a soul that steels my own #ch: gale dekarios #ch: altonaufein #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #edit: mybg3 #fic: mybg3

73 notes · View notes