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Like Real People Do, Chapter 2

Gale Dekarios x Named! Tav

Chapter Synopsis: Seraphina is catching feelings for the wizard and the vampire, oops.

Learn more about my Tav, Seraphina.

Includes dialogue directly from BG3.

It became a nightly ritual of sorts. Every night, just as Seraphina was finishing her prayer, Gale would approach her. Whether it was to spar again or to simply talk about books, the events of the day, or to exchange stories about their homes, Seraphina started to expect Gale’s company to finish off her night. 

“You have several brothers and sisters? Ah. I guess that confirms my suspicions.”

Seraphina quirked an eyebrow. “What suspicions?”

Gale gazed out to the water and cleared his throat before turning to look into her orange eyes. “A little over a year ago, back home in Waterdeep, I had a few drinks with a set of tiefling twins at a tavern. They mentioned Tymora quite a few times as they regaled their tale of slaying fiends in Dis. I believe their names were – ”

Seraphina felt warmth fill her chest. “You met my older brothers, Kyakos and Mavus.” Seraphina distinctly remembered exactly what adventure would’ve contained the Waterdeep stop for her brothers. 

They came back reeking of the Hells and with several treasures to share, including one they specifically picked up in Waterdeep to give to Seraphina for her approaching special day. The gold locket, engraved with a cursive ‘H’ on one side and the Hellwhisper family crest on the other, hung at the end of a long necklace, the chain nearly reaching her waist. They said it would be another reminder of who she is, no matter where she goes or who she shares her life with.

She frowned as she thought of how much she missed them and her entire family.

Gale grinned. “So, you are a Hellwhisper. A descendant of the infamous Zephyrus?”

She hesitated for a moment. So far, everyone had only exchanged their first names. Sharing her last name felt oddly intimate within this group. But she had nothing to hide.

“Yes, I am. We’ve been storm sorcerers and servants of Tymora for generations, but I guess you already learned that from whatever book you read about Zephyrus in,” Seraphina stated proudly, tilting up her chin. Being a Hellwhisper wasn’t something that she was ashamed of, but the family name could certainly cause a stir in some groups of people, namely the staunch Tymorans that had exiled her family for the assumptions they made about the actions of her ancestor, the first Hellwhisper. 

Nevertheless, she carried the name with pride. As she gazed up at Gale through her bangs, she saw a flicker of mischief in his eyes.

“Except for you, I take it,” Gale replied. Seraphina blinked at him. “With your wild magic.” She instantly wilted. 

“Um, yes and no. It’s a long story.”

“One you are not obligated to tell, but I do quite enjoy talking with you,” Gale said. “Though I can tell it’s a sensitive subject for you. I understand how hard it can be to discuss a condition that you may feel less than proud of. But I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything that your heart desires.”

Seraphina looked at him carefully. His big, brown eyes were welcoming, and he seemed genuinely interested in knowing more about her story. He had trusted her with the nature of his need to consume magical items. She might as well throw him a bone in return.

“It’s…it’s a condition that I should be happy to have,” Seraphina murmured. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the coin of Tymora that she always kept on her and began to idly play with it between her hands as she spoke. “I wasn’t always like this.”

Gale nodded, urging her to continue. 

She sighed. “I was born a storm sorcerer. I was…normal my entire life until I received my trial from Tymora. She changed my magic. All of the priests at the temple I grew up in and my parents told me that it would test my faith in Tymora, my faith in luck, and proving that I’m unafraid to take risks. To receive a Trial from Tymora is an honor and rare. To pass it, is to become her Chosen. But, it’s been hell. I’ve been like this for two years and I don’t know what to do to prove myself to Tymora and end this test of hers. I used to know, understand, and control magic like it was one of my own limbs. Now…I’m tired of constantly being afraid of blowing up.”

Seraphina’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat, pushing back the tears that threatened to escape. She felt a hand, firm and warm, settle on her shoulder. She turned and saw Gale looking at her with pity and sympathy. 

“It may sound ridiculous, but I can understand more than you think,” Gale responded. “Though, being a goddess’s Chosen comes with just as many drawbacks as it does blessings. For what it’s worth, I think you are handling all of this with extreme courage. Your fear has never been apparent in any of the conflicts we have encountered so far. At least, not to me. You’re the personification of bravery.” 

Seraphina swooned, positive that blush would be flowering across her cheeks if it wasn’t for her red skin.

“Well, thank you. I do still have faith in Tymora. And in myself and the magic that flows through me. It may be less under my control now, but luck has to be on my side,” Seraphina flipped the coin she held. 

“I think I had quite the stroke of good luck to have ended up by your side in this wild quest,” Gale laughed. Seraphina giggled in return and as their laughs died down, she became all too aware that Gale’s hand had drifted from her shoulder to her upper back, tickling the tips of her black and red hair. She drank in the gentleness of his face, the delicate curve of his lips and the wrinkles that surrounded his soft eyes.

She wondered if Gale would still taste of the firewire they had indulged in with dinner that night. 

Seraphina snapped out of it and realized she was staring at Gale’s lips. She looked up at him and realized he was looking at hers as well. Just as a flood of courage came over her and she started lean closer, Gale sat back, pulling his hand away suddenly as if he’d been shocked.

“We should get some rest,” Gale said, standing up. “I wish you a good night.” He smiled and began heading to his tent.

“Good night,” Seraphina sweetly replied.

She sat there for a moment before rising and beginning to head to her own tent. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, she thought. She wanted to smack herself in the face. But she had to smoothly recover because she knew who was going to approach her soon. It was as she was getting ready to go to bed that Astarion always appeared with a seductive gaze and honeyed words to ask to bite her. 

Every time, she said yes.

Seraphina came back to reality and turned around, expecting to see Gale. She frowned as she saw that he wasn’t there. She pocketed her coin, saying another quick prayer to Tymora. She stood and walked towards the campfire, only to find Gale standing outside his tent. He was gazing at an illusion of a woman floating in his hand.

Seraphina walked closer and she hated the familiar tinge of jealousy she felt in the pit of her stomach. She wished that it was her face Gale was looking so intensely at, as if she was his central focus. But, as she continued looking, she realized two things – who the woman was, and that his look of reverence was too familiar for her to desire it. 

“That’s the deity you wizards adore. Mystra, right?” Seraphina said. Gale jumped and the illusion vanished as Seraphina came around to stand in front of him.

“Oh! My, you startled me. I…I was miles away,” Gale blushed. 

“I know that look,” Seraphina squinted at him. “You were praying to your goddess, weren’t you? I feel like an ass for interrupting with how respectful you’ve always been of my private time.” 

“Not praying. Not quite. I was just…practicing an incantation,” Gale responded. He was positively squirming. 

“No, there’s more to it than that,” Seraphina shook her head. “I know devotion when I see it.”  She had seen it on the faces of her family as they prayed to Tymora. She knew she probably had the same face whenever she gazed upon the pendant of her Lady Luck. 

Gale chuckled bitterly. “What can I say? She’s…she’s Mystra,” he said his goddess’ name with such loyalty, the awe and adoration absolutely dripped from his words. 

“Mystra is all magic. And as far as I’m concerned, she is all creation.” 

Seraphina shook her head again, laughing. Oh, wizards she thought.

“How narrow-minded. There are other gods, Gale, and magic goes far, far beyond Mystra,” She replied. Magic was not something she connected to a goddess. Magic simply was. It was in her blood and was expected of a Hellwhisper. It existed in the world and in people and was truly beautiful. She had obviously poked a nerve as Gale snapped back. 

“Pish posh. One might as well deny one’s mother’s womb as the cradle of life. You just don’t understand,” Gale rolled his eyes before his face softened again, his eyes returning to her gaze as if he was checking to see if he had offended her.

“Of course. I, a simple sorcerer, have no appreciation for the art of magic because I didn’t have to spend years studying it to understand it. Educate me, Gale,” She hoped that he would see that she was merely teasing, and her heart lifted seeing the small smile cross Gale’s face.

“Seraphina, I’d be happy to teach you some of the finer details of magic. I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. It’s like music, poetry, physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses. I assume it’s the same for you?” Gale asked. 

Seraphina chuckled. “It’s less ‘music and poetry’, and more ‘I hope I don’t blow up’ as of late. But magic is interwoven within my very being. It comes to me as naturally as breathing. I worship it almost as much as I worship the Lady Who Smiles. I don’t know who I would be without it.” 

“Perhaps we could reach into the Weave and experience what it feels like together, as one. Or maybe a sorcerer like yourself has already had this experience countless times,” Gale offered. Seraphina tilted her head. 

“What do you mean?” She asked.

Gale smirked. “Let me show you.”

“By all means,” she smiled back. 

“Then follow my lead,” Gale circled her, and she bit her lip as he walked over and stood right next to her. She felt small standing this close to him as he towered over her. His scent of parchment, books, and sandalwood overtook her senses and she had to shake her hands to ground herself. 

As Gale walked her through the steps of what he had planned, Seraphina prayed that she wouldn’t have a surge of wild magic in the middle of such a nice moment. 

Suddenly, they were surrounded by familiar purple strands – the Weave. 

“You did it! You’re channeling the Weave. How does it feel?” Gale turned to her, his excitement evident in his grin. 

“Incredible! Though of course, I could have managed it by myself,” she elbowed him.  “You’re hard to please, aren’t you?” Gale chuckled. 

“Are you desperate to please me, Gale?” she whispered, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s started to become a priority of mine,” Gale smiled at her, and he leaned closer. Their hands brushed and Seraphina resisted the urge to take his hand in hers. 

He was so close. All it would take was one step forward, standing on her toes with her chin tilted up, and she could close the rest of the distance between them. She pictured what it would be like to kiss him – tender and chaste. She would cup his ridiculously perfect face in her hands and deepen the kiss, opening her mouth to him. He would grab her hips and press their bodies together, his tongue swirling against hers as the Weave continued to glow around them. 

What would it be like to connect with someone, another spellcaster, within the Weave like this? Surely, ethereal and otherworldly. Seraphina was desperate for the explosive nature of that kiss, finally releasing all the tension that had been building up over the time they’d been traveling together. By Tymora she was desperate for any kind of contact with Gale. She couldn’t bear any more of the fleeting touches to her back, the grazes against her hand. 

She softly gasped as she realized that Gale could see everything that she was imagining, could feel the desire for him that had been occupying more and more of her thoughts lately. 

No, she definitely hadn’t done this Weave trick before. 

Gale’s smile fell. “I…I didn’t think…” 

Seraphina’s fingers grasped onto her trousers, preparing herself for rejection. She could feel his embarrassment, his surprise, and then…joy. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting…” Gale blushed profusely, and his eyes darted everywhere before looking back into her orange ones. “But it is a pleasant image to be sure!”  He relaxed as he continued, his voice dropping an octave. “Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome.” 

Seraphina opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly the Weave around them evaporated. It was like a curtain had been lifted and they were no longer in their little slice of Heaven or each other’s emotions and thoughts, but back in this dirty camp, on this cold night, with a parasite hurtling them towards certain doom. 

Gale smiled at her. “Good night, Seraphina. I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you.” 

“G-good night, Gale,” Seraphina stammered. She clumsily made her way back to her tent, unable to feel her legs. It felt like all her blood had rushed to her head. She collapsed onto her bedroll.

Her mind was swirling. She hadn’t felt like this in so long, not since her early days of falling in love with the damned man who shattered her heart last summer. 

Vadan. 

Seraphina knew that it was past time for her to start mending her heart back together. The first step was to stop being afraid of even thinking of his name. The Seraphina from before Vadan would’ve already bedded a person or two in the party. That Seraphina would probably be flabbergasted that she hadn’t already slept with Astarion or Gale. 

Then again, that old version of herself would also be shocked that she was both traveling with and becoming almost friendly with a follower of Shar, one of Tymora’s divine enemies. That old Seraphina hadn’t seen Elturel be ripped from the ground of Toril and straight into Avernus. 

She had experienced raw attraction and crushes in the year since then, but no one had truly stirred her heart until now. Her growing crush on Astarion was easier to confront with his bold flirting, but Gale was an altogether different beast. A timid beast, but one she was eager to tame. 

She didn’t have time to ponder that thought more because there was a soft tapping at her tent flap. 

“Seraphina! I need your help!” Astarion hissed in a quiet tone, sounding frantic.

“Come in,” Seraphina sat up, suddenly alert instead of sleepy. 

Astarion stepped into her tent as she re-lit a few candles with flames from her fingers. She turned and gasped, frozen completely as adrenaline rushing through her at the sight of how much blood Astarion was covered in. There was a huge cut in his white shirt that revealed a wide, gaping gash across his chest. 

“If you can’t handle this, I will go wake Shadowheart, but I really need some help,” Astarion grunted as he collapsed onto his back. Seraphina came to her senses and rushed to his side, placing her hands just above his wound. 

“Te curo,” she chanted, a blue aura beginning to radiate from her hands. Astarion sighed in relief. 

“What happened?” Seraphina asked, moving her hands slowly from side to side as the magic continued to heal him.

“I was hunting a bear, which typically isn’t that big of a problem. This one just happened to be a cub. Its mother wasn’t very pleased when she caught me,” Astarion winced. “Lucky for me, my favorite cleric is awake.” 

Seraphina looked up from observing his wound to see him smiling at her. Even with blood covering his teeth and scattered throughout his hair, he was still devilishly good-looking.

“Your favorite cleric would appreciate it if you would communicate your hunger instead of running off to hunt bears,” she remarked.

“Are you just dying to hear me tell you how much I want you?” Astarion murmured. 

“I’d rather not lose our best archer and source of comedy,” Seraphina replied. She pulled her hands away as the wound finally sealed itself. “So did you get your fill?”

Astarion glanced at his chest and pulled himself into a seated position, pulling off the rest of his shirt and pressing it into a ball. “I’m not famished anymore, but I wouldn’t say no to dessert, darling,” he quirked an eyebrow at her. 

She rolled her eyes as she laid down on her bedroll, her chin high and her head tilted to the keep her horns out of the way. Astarion crawled towards her, placing both of his hands on either side of her head, and sliding his thigh between her legs. He pressed himself closer to her and, as his thigh pushed into the apex of her thighs, she felt heat begin to spread through her body. Her legs twitched and Astarion smirked as he finally leaned down and bit into her neck. 

Seraphina winced as icy pain shot out from where his fangs pierced her. Astarion shifted, one hand coming to hold the back of her head, and the other gripping her thigh. A soft gasp left her lips as she felt him grip her leg harder, digging his fingertips in. She could feel each gulp of her blood leaving her body and entering Astarion’s body. Seraphina reached up, placing her hands on the backs of Astarion’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

The roof of the tent began to blur in her vision, and she heard Astarion moan, the vibrations making her body hum and shake as he began to grind against her leg.

“That’s enough,” she breathed. Astarion fangs left her neck and he gasped, but he didn’t pull away. He licked the wounds, lapping up the small trickles of blood. She moaned as she felt his lips press against the bite mark.

One kiss. 

His lips ghost along her neck, moving up. 

A second kiss. 

Astarion leaned back, rising onto his knees. Seraphina bit back another moan as she watched him lick more blood off his now flushed and pink lips.

“Delicious as always, darling,” he purred. 

“I try,” she gasped as she attempted to sit up. Astarion pressed his fingertips to her chest and lightly pushed her back down.

“Get your beauty sleep,” he smirked as he picked up the tatters of his shirt. 

As quickly as he entered, Astarion slipped out of her tent and into the night. In the quiet aftermath, Seraphina could only hear the pounding of her heart and her own heavy breathing. With a wave of her hand, she attempted to send a gust of wind towards the lit candles. While the wind left her fingertips, she felt the all too familiar static of a wild magic surge flow through her body as vines exploded under her body, taking over the entire right side of her tent. 

Seraphina groaned and flopped her head back onto her bedroll. 

At least it wasn’t a mephit she thought as she finally lulled to sleep.