Chapter Text
Gale fidgeted with the box in his pocket, opening it slightly every so often to check that yes, the ring was still there. Of course, there was no way an object could spontaneously disappear from a closed box… but maybe the previous time he’d opened the box it could have fallen out.
Or maybe he was just imagining things the previous times and the ring had mysteriously disappeared. He was going to make a fool of himself presenting Astarion an empty box with nothing in it, and his lover was going to be so disappointed and—
“Gale?”
The wizard halted in his tracks, almost walking into a tree. He looked up, smiling sheepishly at Astarion. “Yes, my love?”
Astarion raised an eyebrow, tilting his head curiously. “You’re acting strange,” he pointed out.
“What do you mean?” Gale laughed nervously, fidgeting with the box in his pocket again, then immediately stopping when he realized that was even more suspicious.
“First, you take me on a spontaneous date to a park that’s across the city,” Astarion started. “Then we go off the trail to ‘see a rare bird’ that we have yet to actually encounter, and now, you’re zoning off randomly, nearly walking into trees and into bushes.”
“Apologies, I’m just… thinking about things,” Gale admitted, and it was true. He was thinking way too much about the plan.
He had thought this out so meticulously, to have everything completely perfect for his proposal. This specific park had a beautiful little spot near the ocean, away from the public. Gale would show Astarion the perfect sunset: golden rays reflected across the water, waves crashing gently into the shore, as Gale got down on one knee behind him and asked for his hand in marriage.
Quiet, peaceful, romantic. The perfect plan.
“Always thinking about things, my dear wizard,” Astarion sighed, smiling at him fondly. “But really, what are you thinking about? I’ve never seen you this deep in thought before.”
“It’s nothing to worry about, truly,” Gale reassured, waving a hand dismissively. Hopefully Astarion didn’t notice just how sweaty his palms were. “Oh! Look, we’re almost there. We just take a left here….”
“I thought it was a right here.” Astarion paused at the fork in the road, pointing the other direction.
“No, no, it’s definitely left,” Gale insisted, careful not to sound too desperate.
“You were lost in thought, darling, are you sure you haven’t lost your way?”
“I’m certain.” Gale knew the way like the back of his hand, having walked this route multiple times to ensure that this would be perfect. “Besides, that way leads to private property.”
“Private property?” Astarion asked. “That can’t be right. In a public park?”
The wizard nodded, already starting down the left path.
“It must be right,” the elf insisted. “There were warnings about owlbear sightings in that direction.”
“Owlbear sightings?” Gale repeated. No, no, that couldn't be true. This was supposed to be a safe, peaceful location.
Astarion shrugged. “I don’t have any idea how one got here.” He paused, considering for a moment. “I suppose we must go back, considering both paths are closed. They should really put signs out here.”
But… Gale had planned this so perfectly.
He couldn’t risk it. If there really was an owlbear around those parts, everything would be ruined. He had to make sure the proposal was perfect.
There was next time.
This time was going to be better than the last.
It was a good thing he abandoned that park idea; it truly wouldn’t compare to what Gale had in mind tonight.
He gave a polite nod to the waitress as she left, returning his attention to Astarion across from him. They sat at a balcony seat at a fancy restaurant, the evening sunset washing over them magnificently. Orange and yellow hues bounced off the elf’s white curls, red eyes glinting in the rays.
He was perfect, and deserved perfection.
Gale had set up a little spell beforehand at this table they had reserved. It would trigger with a certain phrase in his speech, once they were finished eating and Gale was ready.
He went over his speech now in his head, chewing his food a little more than usual as he did. The nerves were getting to him again as the time drew near.
My love, my starlight—that was the trigger word, starlight, and an illusion of stars would appear around them, shimmering brightly in an aura of blue hues to set the mood. I know what it’s like to lose everything. I know what it’s like to rebuild from the ground up. But I’ve barely scratched the surface of what you have been through. And I truly admire that strength you have to continue living. That willpower and determination to go on, despite everything. You’ve made me realize the same thing about myself before, when I had lost all hope and thought I was worth nothing at all. You’ve made me see myself as not a man who must prove his worth, but as someone who is already enough. I am enough for you. And, if you would allow, I hope to prove myself as more than enough by building a new life with you, and loving you forever, however long that may be. Astarion Ancunín, will you marry me?
Dramatic flair, yes, and a speech that might be a tad too long, and it wouldn’t even express half the things Gale wanted to say, but… it was enough, hopefully.
“Something wrong with the food, darling?” Astarion asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. He raised an eyebrow at the wizard.
Gale looked up, the food ground to mush in his mouth. He finally swallowed, grinning sheepishly at the elf. “No, nothing is wrong,” he reassured. “I’m just… savoring the food. The steak is delicious here, I can see why you chose this place. How is the blood, by the way?”
Astarion swirled the wine glass in his hand with a small hum. “It’s alright, I suppose. It has a twinge of bitterness, but not too noticeable. I would much rather it be warmer and straight from the source.” He grinned, winking at Gale before taking a sip. “I’m surprised you managed to convince them to pour me so much pig blood.”
Gale chuckled, reaching out a hand for the glass. Astarion held it out curiously, and the smile that graced his lips when Gale murmured a Prestidigitation spell to warm and flavor the blood was beautiful. Maybe he should start his speech now—
No, no, don’t be so eager, he mentally scolded himself. Patience was key. Timing was key. He had to wait until later, when the other customers on the balcony were done. The proposal had to be just them, with no onlookers to interrupt them with cheers and applause, as worthy as the moment would be of it.
“They were quite happy to make use of the blood,” Gale said. “Quite a few items on their menu use blood as an ingredient, interestingly enough. It really is an underappreciated ingredient in culinary arts, used in sauces, stews, even baked goods. A thickening agent, a flavor enhancer—its versatility is rather remarkable.”
He paused mid-bite, looking up to see Astarion’s fond smile before it broke out into a light laugh. “Gods, you’re adorable,” the elf teased.
“Apologies, you know how I am.” Gale laughed, attempting to shut himself up by stuffing his mouth with another mouthful of the steak.
“Don’t worry about it, dear. I love listening to you ramble.” Astarion paused, turning to gaze out at the city. “You know, Gale, I never thought I’d say this, but you’ve been quite the light of my life.”
Gale perked up, heart warming at the elf’s admittance. Astarion rarely showed such sentiment and softness. He continued before Gale could reply.
“My own little starlight, guiding me out of the darkness,” Astarion murmured. He met Gale’s eyes, a slight flush to his cheeks as he spoke.
Suddenly, the space around them lit up with bright, twinkling lights. A cascade of colors swirled around them, rippling through the air.
Oh, no. Gale’s eyes widened. Starlight. The spell went off too soon.
“What…?” Astarion looked around curiously, surprised by the sudden swarm of colors and stars around them.
“It must be the restaurant’s doing,” Gale quickly explained, panic rising in his chest, waving a hand dismissively. He laughed nervously. “Look, it’s all over the balcony. They must be setting the mood or ambiance or… something.”
As Astarion turned to look around, Gale murmured another illusion spell to slowly fade in the same effect around the other customers, bathing the balcony in the streams of soft colors and stars. Soft murmurs and gasps filled the quiet night as the other patrons pointed out the display of wondrous lights surrounding the area.
“Hm, interesting. It’s very pretty,” Astarion commented, turning back to Gale. He swirled his wine glass again, then swallowed down the rest of it in a few more gulps. “Not as intricate as the illusions you pull off, though, my dear wizard.”
“Ahah, thank you. They are still quite impressive, aren’t they?” Gale laughed again, a little too loudly, quickly scarfing down the rest of the meal.
That… did not go as planned. It was not the right time, it was not the right mood. He sighed, masking it as a sigh of satisfaction, smiling at Astarion nonchalantly. He could try again another time, he supposed.
Gale stepped through the door, the scent of roasted herbs and something slightly burnt immediately hitting his nose, but also a whiff of something strangely familiar. Hundur sauce?
“Astarion?” he called out concernedly, shutting the door behind him. “I’m home!”
“In the dining room, darling,” Astarion’s voice called back.
Gale made his way to the dining area, carefully holding his bag with the container of food he’d brought back. It was a new recipe he had meticulously crafted and perfected, the idea having come to him when he was talking about blood as an ingredient on their last date. This was almost purely blood-based—he’d almost gotten too much from the butcher next door and had to hide the leftovers from Astarion to keep this a surprise—with some certain wines added that he knew Astarion liked. He’d even gone out his way to contact the vampire spawns in the Underdark today to check with them. Taking the meal to them was not easy, even with a teleportation spell, but it was worth it to have reassurance that this would be perfect. Plus, it was nice to see that Astarion’s siblings were doing alright for themselves.
Gale paused as he stepped into the dining room. The table was already set, candles lit and soft music playing in the background. Astarion stood behind a chair with a proud grin stretched across his face, a plate of food set in front of it.
“I made you a little something,” he said, gesturing to the seat for Gale. He chuckled softly, a bit of nervousness in his eyes as he looked away. “I’m no wizard in the kitchen like you, but… I think you’d like this. After all you’ve done for me, I figured I’d cook something for you for once.”
“Astarion, you shouldn’t have!” Gale exclaimed. He set the bag down, walking up to Astarion to press a soft, tender kiss to the elf’s lips. “I was wondering what the smell was. It’s quipper fish, isn’t it? With hundur sauce!”
“Homemade, too,” Astarion replied with a chuckle. “I did ask Morena for some guidance on this the other day. How is she today, by the way?”
Right, Gale had told Astarion he had visited his mother instead of the Underdark to keep his idea a secret.
“She’s doing just fine, as well as Tara,” Gale said quickly, sidestepping the question. “Hold on, I have a surprise for you as well, my love.”
He was not expecting Astarion to be here when he presented his dish—he had planned to set the food down into a plate after taping a handwritten note at the bottom of it with a simple message asking for Astarion’s hand in marriage. However, with Astarion watching him here, he’d have to do something else…. Perhaps an illusion spell could work.
He turned his back to Astarion as he grabbed a plate. A soft murmur and a wave of his hand, and magical text text shimmered into view at the bottom of the porcelain plate. It should last until Astarion finished it. Gale carefully set the black pudding he’d made onto the plate, making sure the text was covered.
He set the plate down across the table from where Astarion had prepared his meal, and they both sat down.
“Oh, interesting,” Astarion mused, picking up his fork. He cut a chunk off and brought it up to his nose.
“I know you can’t digest solid foods,” Gale explained quickly, “but I did a bit of cooking magic, quite literally, to transmute blood into a more solid matter that you can enjoy. I’ve also added some of your favorite wine to the blend.”
“It sounds positively delicious, darling,” the vampire reassured, finally taking a bite of it.
Gale sliced into his own meal, watching anxiously.
“Hm,” Astarion hummed, chewing slowly.
Oh, no. Did Astarion not like it? Was it terrible? Did Gale mess up?
“I’m not quite used to chewing on my food,” the elf continued with a light laugh.
Oh. That was fine. The food was good, though, right? Gale bit into the chunk of fish, still carefully examining Astarion’s reaction to what Gale had made for him.
He was distracted by a burst of bitterness hitting his tongue, and he had to force himself to keep his expression straight. “Hm,” he managed out.
Oh, no, he thought again. The texture was too dry and chewy, the fish slightly overcooked. Too much salt, and where was that awful bitterness from and that twinge of metallic? Astarion worked so hard on this, and Gale could not finish this. He looked up to the elf, noticing his pleased expression as he swallowed down the food.
“This is lovely, Gale,” he commented with an excited smile, eyes holding a certain rare brightness. He cut into the sausage again. “I never thought I’d ever experience your culinary talents, with my specific diet, but here we are. Gods, this is incredible.”
Gale forced a matching smile, taking another bite of the fish despite its awful taste. “I’m glad to have been able to make something for you to actually eat,” he said. “And this fish? Absolutely incredible. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Astarion. Who knew a vampire could cook as well as you?”
Lies, pure lies. How could he propose to him now, promising trust and honesty for the rest of their lives? He should’ve just told Astarion that it was terrible—no, that wouldn’t do at all, that would only upset his lover. He scrapped the entire plan of proposing, wincing at another wave of bitterness on his tongue. With a wave of his hand under the table, he dismissed the illusion spell that was beneath the food on Astarion’s plate.
They continued eating, Gale taking smaller and smaller portions of the fish and discreetly pushing some to the edges of his plate. When Astarion turned to put his finished plate away, Gale quickly cast a spell to illusion an empty plate.
He had to try again another time.
Surely a peaceful boat ride wouldn’t cause any problems.
Gale had chosen a route that would lead them to a secluded dock, where he planned to end the night with his proposal. It was on the Material Plane this time, rather than the illusion of the Astral Plane Gale first took Astarion to. The experience was going to be real, as would the promise Gale will make to his lover.
The evening air was crisp, the gentle lap of water against the wooden sides of the boat creating a soothing rhythm. The illusion spell Gale had prepared was already in effect: glowing constellations twinkled softly in the air around them, their light shimmering off the water’s surface. The two of them sat close together on the narrow bench, Astarion leaning slightly into Gale’s shoulder, his arm resting casually along the backrest.
The elf sighed contentedly, gazing at the stars above, both real and conjured. “You do spoil me, you know,” he murmured, the corners of his mouth lifting in a soft smile.
“You deserve it all,” Gale replied, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Astarion’s head, “and more.”
He looked up to see how close they were to the dock, knowing he had to get the timing perfect. With a wave of his hand and a murmured chant, he conjured a soft, melodic tune to fill the air. Astarion’s ear twitched against Gale’s cheeks, head raising to look around at where the music was coming from.
“Is that… your doing?” he asked.
“It’s just a little spell,” Gale said, chuckling nervously. “Do you like it? I composed it myself.” It certainly wasn’t a masterpiece, but he was rather proud of it, having studied the way of the bards for quite a while to prepare for this moment.
“That’s… amazing,” Astarion breathed, leaning back against Gale. “A wizard, a cook, a musician, you really are everything, aren’t you darling?”
“Everything for you.”
As the melody began to swell, building into a crescendo, Gale’s palms began to sweat much more than should be normal. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Before he could start his proposal, however, the music was suddenly joined by another tune.
It was hauntingly beautiful, and it harmonized perfectly with the music Gale had prepared. The two melodies wove together in strange but stunning duet, filling the night with a sound so enchanting it almost felt magical. Gale finally spotted the source of the sound—a bard, strumming a lute with practiced ease at the docks.
“Isn’t that lovely,” Astarion said, his voice carrying out over the water as he squinted at the man. “A bard out here, of all places.”
“What a curious fellow,” Gale murmured. “I suppose it is a quiet, peaceful night here to practice one’s art.”
As beautiful as it was, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated that his carefully crafted moment was being overshadowed. He let out a soft sigh, hand tightening around the box in his pocket. The moment didn’t feel right anymore. Not with this interruption, as lovely as it was.
The boat gently bumped against the docks, and Astarion quickly stepped up and offered a hand out to the wizard. Not quite the way Gale wanted to have it offered.
Perhaps another night, he thought, taking the elf’s hand anyway to raise himself up.
Perhaps something a little less… extravagant, this time.
Well, maybe it was still extravagant, but Gale couldn’t help it.
He sat cross-legged in the middle of their bed, the lights off and curtains closed—not that there was any sunlight that got through with the glass that Gale enchanted in order to keep Astarion safe from the burning rays.
He waved a hand, watching his little light show again and making sure the figures were obvious and moved the right way. They cast dancing shadows and lights across the walls, the entire thing lasting a few minutes. Gale nodded to himself as it finished, quite proud of his work. It almost brought tears to his own eyes, if he did say so himself. Once Astarion had watched it through, Gale would finally recite his speech, and ask for Astarion’s hand in marriage.
Gale extinguished the magic with a flick of his wrist, watching as the last tendrils of light faded into the shadows. Just in time, as the door started to open. Astarion stepped in, book in hand as he smiled at Gale. They would often read to each other before bed, and recently Gale had been asking the elf to teach him Elvish, and what better way than reading an Elvish book together?
But tonight he had different plans.
“Hello, love,” Gale greeted, shifting to sit at the edge of the bed. “I have something to show you tonight.”
Astarion quirked a brow, setting the book on his lap as he sat down beside the wizard. “Mysterious,” he hummed. “Is this another one of your little magic tricks again?”
“I would hope it’s more than ‘little’,” Gale replied with a nervous laugh. This would be more important, more spectacular than any other tricks he’d shown the elf to woo and wow him. He wrapped an arm around Astarion’s shoulder, pulling him close as his other hand gestured in the air to summon the light show.
The illusions depicted their adventure together up until the present day—many of the fights they’ve gone through together, the pain and healing, the comfort and trust and love building between them day after day. Some scenes were shown literally with these 3-dimensional figures, others expressed with a variety of shapes and colors and varying degrees of brightness to show the impact of certain moments they had together. The nautiloid, a hand reaching out for help and help being given. Flashes of fire and ice and arrows and daggers. The scars, the orb. The blood, the Weave.
Gale kept glancing over to the elf as it played out, anxiously waiting for his reaction. Astarion’s lips were parted slightly, eyes wide as he watched, but otherwise his expression was unreadable.
Finally, all of it, both their stories, melding together in shades of purple and red lights that transformed into a burning heart that offered itself in front of Astarion.
The vampire held the floating heart in his palms, staring at it wondrously.
Gale swallowed nervously as the show ended, the lights slowly fading out, dispersing into tiny sparks. Deep breath in, deep breath out. This was it.
“Astarion—”
“That was… lovely,” Astarion mumbled.
Gale blinked.
“You’ve truly outdone yourself, Gale,” he continued, his tone light and almost dismissive. He held out his hand, letting the heart float back into the air.
Gale stared at him, dumbfounded, as the elf stood up and made his way to the door. “Wait, Astarion, is something wrong?”
“No, nothing, just… hold on a moment, darling.” He walked out, closing the door behind him.
What?
Gale waited, staring at the door anxiously. A minute passed. Two. Five. Ten.
Did Astarion not like it? Did Gale do something wrong?
Gale sat back against the pillows, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. This… this wasn’t what he expected.
He heard the door creak open moments later, and he jolted to attention, watching the elf settle into bed with him.
“Astarion?” Gale murmured, reaching a hand out to take Astarion’s. “Is something wrong?”
The elf hesitated, accepting Gale’s hand and offering him a soft smile. “Sorry, darling, I was…. Processing. All of that.” He let out a quiet, shaky breath, shoulders tight with tension. “I love you so much, Gale.”
His words were sincere, but something was clearly off.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong, love,” Gale insisted gently.