#both her and lingua ignota's music have been a huge driving force for writing aurum

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Many Hands

Gale x F! Tav (named)

(Child Of Dawn, part 8)

PG-13 religous trauma, feelings of self worth/utility, implied trauma, implied violation, admissions of feelings, tenderness

With the knowledge of Aurum's heat death approaching and Gale's long awaited reunion with Mystra, both of their lives come to a precipice. Whether they can emerge together will remain to be seen...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

There was an absence in his tent again.

Sitting up he looked over to where her body should lay. Finding nothing but unsettled blankets.

With sure movements he pulled his shoes on, the pull of their lovers rings assuring him of her safety. Late night wandering was not uncommon for her, and though it spiked loneliness in his heart when she slipped out, it no longer incited fear.

The pull of their rings leading, he followed out of the edge of the city where their camp resided. Seeking her where he often found her, in a field of high grass.

As he approached a faint glow of blue and purple lit his path. Something utterly and worrisomely familiar. Weave in the air.

He did rush forward then, the smell of rosewater confirming his suspicion. A fraction of Mystra was present with Aurum, and something in that struck a primal terror in his heart.

Aurum uses magic. She's been touching Weave, though not in its raw form, on some level this entire time. Mystra was well aware of her. He didn't need to shield her, surely. Yet his feet disagreed, only picking up speed.

Then he heard it, the high haunting call of her singing, communing with short phrases of piercing beautiful cries.

That made him slow. Was she... speaking through Weave? And if she was, was it to Mystra?

He approached slower then, coming up on the broken treeline. The clearing swimming with the light of Weave, an impressive amount twining around her in slow circles.

She stood at the apex of it, watching the thread push and pull. Taking in lungfuls and calling out changing tones of song. Some soft and hopeful, morning bird cries. Some passionate and triumphant, a battle cry cresting.

The Weave responded to these phrases, lighting and twisting. A little more or less with her inflection.

But when she cried out mournful and pleading, a scream for mercy, it lit up so bright he needed to shield his eyes. Twisting and vibrating in excited thrums at her heart-wrenching wail.

She looked around at it. Face bordering on disgust, but more than anything, a knowing disregard.

For the first time, he heard her sing with words.

And of the gods

Of bright yellow and deep blue

In mortal presence seek to be awed

Only in cruel nature prove themselves true

The Weave sparked and rippled harshly, dissipating around her in an angry hiss.

She only folded arms across her ribs, cupping her elbow in one hand. Watching it go with a certainty, a defiant calm in her narrowed eyes. Gentle wind swirling her hair, tall grasses bowing around her in slow waves.

He gawked at her. This woman, with the lining of her heart still burnt, just told off a god. Successfully.

He drew forward, in utter awe of her. Those glacial eyes meeting his, lighting with warmth.

"Hey, did I wake you?" She called softly.

He was still reeling, her casual tone making him near giddy. What a fascinating creature to defy a god within their own magic, then carry on as per usual.

"Aurum, you just..." He tried to start, but her scoff stopped him.

"I have had a god speaking from my throat for most of my life. I've long been desensitized to their tactics." She explained, as if that made her feat less impressive instead of more.

"They all want power and attention. Give them neither and it starves them of control. Then you've lost your utility, and in turn, their interest." She shrugged, entirely unimpressed.

The raw truth of her words struck through him like an impaling spear. In three succinct sentences, she had wrung the essence of his torment out onto the waving grass in which they stood.

"Well, I should say most gods. Selune seems alright." Her chest lit up silver in agreement, and she smiled down at it.

Dame Aylin's gift still made his heart race hopefully, surrounding her sun shard with her mother's moonlight. Cooling it's power enough to weaken flares and slow down its heat death. Not a cure, but a blessing nonetheless.

He reached out on instinct, feeling the pleasant warmth under his palm.

She hissed slightly. "Careful, it's still tender."

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking." He sighed, taking her hand instead.

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" She hushed.

He wanted to weild the unflinching resolve she had just shown, but he refused to lie to her.

"Yes, I am."

His own long overdue meeting with Mystra at its precipice. The walls of the Stormshore Tabernacle to be their witness.

"Though it steels my resolve to know I'll have my love at my side. To know you'll be there, waiting for me on the other side... it is a balm on my shaken soul. I dont deserve you, truly."

She pulled their folded hands up, kissing the bend of his fingers, eyes bright with gentle adoration.

"Mmm, I'm going to fight you on that one wizard. I have it on good authority that you're quite lovely and very deserving of my affections."

Tears prickled his eyes, stepping forward to catch her sweet mouth in a kiss.

He loved her so much it made him simultaneously dizzy and held down anchor. Even the height of his romance with Mystra seemed one dimensional in comparison. This was warm, tender, of the earth. A crackling fire warming him through and a cool river he dipped his hands in. Utterly mortal. Real.

-

Aurum pressed her forehead to his, staring deep into his endless brown eyes.

"You're ready, Gale."

He laughed nervously. "Am I? Gods I wish you could come with me. I could use a pillar of strength to bolster my nerve."

"I'll be right here, waiting for you." She cupped his jaw. He turned into her hand, kissing her palm.

"I'm still not certain what I'm going to say. You must have some words of wisdom to impart before I go?"

She considered it. Of what she knew of gods remaining impartial was key to gaining any footing. To go any way in either direction sealed your fate. And they were here to release him from his ties, not strengthen them.

"She will ask something of you, of that I am certain. But also reveal information, some I'm sure she's loathe to part with. Ask questions when opportunity presents, stay on the back foot and make no promises."

He blinked then smiled at her, awestruck.

"You're kind of terrifying, did you know that?"

She smiled, sighing. "Despite my best attempts, I am my father's daughter."

This is what she was made for. First line of attack was subterfuge, entice, then persuade. If that fails, cleave them in righteous anger as his holy sword, his golden scythe.

Born to be a weapon of equal parts beauty and fury. The training was sewn into her body, same as the gold ink that lined her face. She could deny every god, but she could not deny that.

Stepping forward, she leaned up and kissed him tenderly. If he understood what she was, the extent of what she had done, would he still want her? She wasn't certain.

But she was certain of this:

"You have done enough. You do not need her forgiveness. You never did."

He took a shaky breath out, linking his pinky with hers. One firm squeeze.

She responded in kind, giving him one more quick kiss for luck.

"I will only be gone a moment. See you soon, my love." He sighed, arm raising to open the channel.

He disappeared in a flash of white. Despite her certain words, she couldn't help but hold her breath. Astarion's hand came to brace on her shoulder, her hand weaving over his gratefully.

One, two more beats and he was back in her world. Already explaining breathless what he had learned, the nature of his condition. Gripping her upper arms to steady himself.

"She's offering a cure?" Aurum clarified through his flurry of words.

"Yes, it seems so." He finally took a staggering breath in. Giving her time to process everything said, and what was unsaid within it.

She started slowly, gathering her words carefully.

"What would you like to do with the crown?"

He froze. Eyes searching hers, confused. Then his face fell, stricken.

"Do you think I would still consider harnessing the crown? After everything...?"

She wanted to say no, of course not. But on some level, she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. That she knew better. If she chose to not be a goddess for him, then he has no reason to stay.

She knew worship. It was always held to her at point blank range. A choir that cannot move their flock will not sway. A sacred text read without fervor held no weight.

A holy object that cannot make its devotee feel fufilled has no purpose.

If he had forsaken his god, and was forbade from using her as a replacement, then he must be tempted to become one himself.

She had left him godless. Of course he would consider it.

He was searching her face with rapid eyes. Lips parted, desperate for answers he must have saught there.

"Aurum...?"

"If a cure is on the table, I think we should take that offer." She kept her voice diplomatic. Not her most graceful side step.

For the first time, she felt an insistent pull from his worm. He was trying to open her mind to him.

She reeled back, shaking her head. Eyes wide on him in shock.

"Don't... Don't do that." She breathed. Feeling many hands on her body, flinching. Looking down to see only one pale set of hands, bracing her reeling body. A knowing presence taking up behind her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just... I wish that you would talk to me. I love you, I want to know what you're thinking. Always."

"I'll..." She started, feeling Astarion's hand squeeze her back in encouragement. "I'll try. To tell you more."

Gale sighed, reassured. Taking her hands, smiling down at her. "Thank you."

"Gods, I'm exhausted. Let's get to the Elfsong already." He was allowing her release for the moment, and she appreciated the out.

"Ohhh, frosty pints..." Karlach moaned.

-

Gale woke in their private suite, that familiar absence. Slipping on his shoes, padding past softly snoring bodies. Down into the rain slicked street. Already knowing where he would find her but still led by hand.

The cracked door of Stormshore Tabernacle leaked a stripe of light onto the street. He pulled his overcoat tighter around him and angled inside.

He expected her to be sat in front of the all-god idol. But she sat legs folded into each other, staring up at Mystra's likeness with a slightly cocked head.

He took a short breath through his teeth. Somehow, he had the sense that Mystra was staring back.

"You know, I don't mind staying up with you. I'm no stranger to late hours and maintaining a terrible circadian rhythm."

She looked up at him, smiling sheepishly and holding out her hand.

"You looked so peaceful, I couldn't bear to wake you." She sighed, eyes drawn back up as soon as he settled next to her.

It was quiet for a moment, soft candlelight striking their shadows against the cold stone of his former lover.

"Copper for your thoughts?" He offered quietly.

She smiled sadly, looking back down.

"I was just thinking about..." She paused, gathering her thoughts. A slight clench in her jaw. Clearly fighting herself.

"Well, that your god is willing to forgive you."

He heard the subtext she wasn't saying.

Your god is willing to cure you.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't like Mystra." He smiled at the clear disdain in her voice.

"But... that she's willing to help. Even if her motives are less than altruistic. I mean, that's something."

He wasn't used to her speaking so candidly, her mask of saintly presence fallen away. How tender and uncertain her melodic voice bounced around the room.

"I would exchange our places a thousand times over if I could, Aurum. You deserve a second chance far more than I do." He held her hands between his. The realization that he had a way out and she didn't making bile rise to the back of his throat. He couldn't think about that right now.

Aurum's eyes wandered back up to her cold face.

"Did it feel strange? Seeing her again?"

He considered her question. "Strangely, no. Once, a mere glimpse of her face would have been enough to turn my insides over, but not this time."

His eyes drawn again to the facsimile of her, finding no fondness, no longing there.

"In her likeness, I used to read a thousand stories. She was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes. But now... it is hard to see any redeeming qualities in a lover who condemned you to death."

Smiling back down at his radiant earthly love. "I'd much rather gaze into your eyes than hers. Yours are capable of tenderness and feeling. No god could ever compare."

Tears poured silent down her cheeks, eyes wide. Shock striking her face for the second time in this temple.

He felt a prickling of worry, checking the hue of the sunburst on her chest. Burning a brilliant white.

"I love you." She whispered.

His whole world swept out from under him, breath utterly taken. Heart singing so high and so full it made him lightheaded.

"Please, please say it again." He breathed.

She closed her eyes, opening her mind to him. He accepted swiftly.

The tempest of her mind threatened to overtake him for a moment, until she pulled him back into her presence. Surrounding him in her love, the entirety of her affection. Washing up over his body as many hands, warm waves of fingers.

I love you, Gale Dekarios.

His own tears fell heavy, a sob threatening in his throat.

His mouth found hers, smothering her in his adoration. Cupping her precious face in his hands. His love wrapping around her, intricately woven. A shroud, a shield.

When he finally pulled up for air, he realized she had left her mind open. The corners of it unguarded in offering.

Are you sure? He looked into her eyes, searching for permission.

She took a shaky breath out, but he felt the determination in her mind.

Yes, it's time I show you.

~

Part 9