Mairwen's Musings

Writing blog for nerd_herd_27 on AO3 Currently writing a Gale/Tav BG3 fic about a single mom Tav

[nerdherdwriting]

Hello, World

I haven't used my Tumblr in a very, very, very long time. In fact, I'd probably betray my age if I said how long it had been. But I'm working on a Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic that I'm pretty excited about, and I was thinking that I'd like to have a place to post screen caps from the game, and also possibly a song recording down the line (it'll make sense, I promise), along with whatever other ramblings or communications I may have. And while my own instinct was to make a Twitter alt (which I did, and it's @/NerdHerdWriting if you want to follow me!), my sister informed me that Tumblr is still the gold standard for such things, so here we are! Please don't make fun of me and my boomer ways (I'm in my twenties, okay? They're just...you know, the *late* twenties), and feel free to ask any questions you may have about the fic, if you like!

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Getting fixated in a piece of media will make you very curious about things you have never once in your life cared about beforehand just bc it's relevant to said media

[nerdherdwriting]

Before my BG3 fic took over my life, I was becoming an avid crossword puzzle solver due to it being a favorite pastime of Morse from the show Endeavour.

I also got really into poetry, which tbf I already liked, but I hadn’t been motivated to read it until starting fan fictions about Endeavour…

[red-shameless]

[mamakitty187]

[ste-llajo]

Except Gale would say please

[nerdherdwriting]

My sister and I frequently say “My name is Gale Waterdeep-Waterdeep. My wife and I are from the same place, but I insisted on hyphenating it anyway.”

[nerdherdwriting]

@astral-campfire OC Template

Just realized I never did one of these!

General

Name: Mairwen Grayling

Pronunciation: "MEHR-wen," with "Mair" rhyming with "air." (It is not the correct Welsh pronunciation, and that is because when I checked the pronunciation online over a year ago, my beloved behindthename dot com betrayed me for the first time ever. The pronunciation has since been corrected on their site, but now it's MAIR in my head instead of MIRE, and I cannot change it...)

Alias: Mair, very rarely Mairi (mostly as a child). She went by her mother's maiden name for a while, but she doesn't anymore.

Class: Storm Sorcerer with one level in Wizard

Race: Wood Half-Elf

Age: 39

Spoken Language: Common, some limited Elven

Personal

Gender: female

Sexual Orientation: straight

Occupation: apprentice to a magical item enchantress

Priorities: her son's safety, then helping others, then helping herself

Motivation: just wants to get her son home

Accomplishment: was accepted at Blackstaff Academy several years ago

Greatest Achievement: the fact that she's managed to raise her son so well despite everything she's been through

Failures: never got to finish her studies at Blackstaff, and she has been sort of "stuck" in her personal life (outside of her son) for the past 4+ years.

Traumas: Her son's biological father was horribly abusive, and she's terrified of him finding out they have a child together. She also lost her mother at a young age and never fully recovered from the loss.

Embarrassments: her lack of completed education and inability to give her son the very best in life

Regrets: In the long run, she has few regrets, because she'd never want a life without her son. She does wish she could have given him a better life.

Confidants: Pre-abduction, not many. Her father, to some extent, though she never told him the whole story about Alwyn's biological father. Post-abduction, her main confidant is Gale. She also really gets along with Karlach, and she and Halsin have a special bond.

Soft Spots: children, every single time. She loves animals, too, but anything involving a child is going to get an immediate reaction from her. Romantically-speaking, she has a soft spot for NERDS.

Catchphrase: Hmm. She sometimes says "O'si Tham" to her son, which is meant to mean "Mother is here" in Elven.

Superstitions: Like all sailors, she won't do anything that might anger Umberlee. That's just self-preservation.

Likes and Dislikes

Likes: warm comfort food, cats, reading, intellectual discussions, the sea, being in nature, playing with children, exploring...

Dislikes: fire (esp. fire magic), anything bad happening to a child (do not TEST her), crying in front of other people, talking about her past, druids who don't follow a code (ahem), goblins, using the tadpoles, and any sort of moral gray area (she prefers black-and-white, please and thank you).

Favorite: Animal: probably cat Color: blue Drink: tea (or whiskey if you're frisky) Food: something simple and warm Place: Waterdeep! Song: an old sailor's song Season: spring?

Apparel

Accessories: she always wears leather gloves

Wardrobe: usually simple blue robes, nothing flashy

Equipment: a basic staff

Most prized possession: an enchanted ring her mentor made for her that keeps her son's father from using casting Sending spells to her or tracking her with magic

Reactions

Angry: If you've made her angry enough to confront you, then you really messed up. She normally keeps it inside, or snaps and then apologizes.

Conflicted: She will keep this inside, too, but she won't be able to for long, and she will probably have a bit of a breakdown about it.

Depressed: She has had moments of being unable to care for herself, but her sense of duty is usually enough to keep her going through the motions, and things haven't been that bad since Alwyn was born. She tends to retreat inward when she's depressed.

Scared: If she's scared for Alwyn, she will go full terminator mode. If she's scared for herself, she might freeze or run away.

Guilty: She will let this eat at her until she can't hide it anymore or it turns to self-hatred.

Happy: She tends to get quiet when she's feeling content. When she's a more excited type of happy, she might talk a little too much.

Humiliated: She's a bad blusher. You will notice if she's embarrassed.

Nervous: Bites her lip, struggles with words. Might escalate to running away, if it's really bad, like when she accidentally imagined holding Gale's hand in the Weave.

Offended: She'll snap at you

Praised: Super embarrassed and wants to correct you.

Sad: She's a bit of a crier, lately, mostly because she's got a life-ending tadpole in her eye and doesn't know how to fix it. But she tries to wait until she's alone to let the tears flow. Of course, Gale keeps rudely finding her.

Stressed: that's her secret: she's always stressed

[nerdherdwriting]

Signs of Life

“O’si! Look at me!”

Mairwen’s mother looked up from her gardening work with an indulgent smile, only to find her daughter nowhere in sight.

“Up here!”

The rustling of leaves was hint enough. In the new-budded branches, it was easy to pick out a flash of red braids, along with a yellow linen dress that would surely need a washing, now.

“Mairwen! How did you get all the way up there?”

There was no sternness in her voice, though perhaps she thought there was. Mairwen laughed from her perch.

“I think I found a robin’s nest!” she cried excitedly. “Come see!”

“I’m a bit too old to be climbing trees,” her mother fibbed. For a human, of course, 120 years old was unbelievable, but as an elf, Cla’aera was only just entering her prime. “I hope you haven’t torn your dress, Rusco’la!”

“I’m being careful!”

“Of course you aren’t! You are having fun.” There was no anger in her words; she simply said them because they were true. It only took a moment for her to make up her mind. “Budge over, little squirrel. Here comes your old mother.”

Cla’aera pulled herself into the tree with an ease that betrayed decades of practice with such activities. Her daughter gasped in delight, shifting down the branch to make room. Her mother’s weight hardly seemed to disturb the limb at all; she knew exactly where to pull and where to brace. It took no time whatsoever for her to scale it.

“Show me this nest of yours,” she demanded when she had seated herself astride the limb. Mairwen grinned. 

“It’s here! Look!” She wobbled to her feet on the branch, reaching for the ones above her head, where she had heard chirps coming from the mass of twigs and straw nestled among them. But in her excitement, she had forgotten to be careful. Of course she had. The moment she stood up, the end of the branch shifted underfoot. She tried to compensate. It moved the other way. She grabbed for the upper branch, jerking it downward, but her bare toes could not find purchase. 

She and her mother cried out in unison as she tumbled down. She felt a hand grab her sleeve, but it gave way with an awful rip, and the next moment, she was a tangle of limbs on the ground. Her head smacked a root, and the breath was knocked forcefully from her lungs. 

Her mother was there in an instant. Mairwen tried to be brave, but it hurt. She couldn’t get any air to stay in her chest. She let out a tiny sob as her mother’s quick hands flitted over her body, probing first her head and then her shoulders and back. 

“Where does it hurt, Mairi?”

A high-pitched whine escaped her lips, and she had the presence of mind to be embarrassed about it. She was too big for such things, she knew. But it was hard to be big when her mother was there, brushing away her tears and making soft, soothing sounds above her. 

“Te curo,” she whispered, when her hands had found the tender spot on her head, beneath the snarls of her hair. The pain there vanished, only a warm buzzing left behind, like a hive of lazy honeybees. “Te curo,” her mother said again. Her back stopped hurting, too, and her elbow, which she hadn’t even noticed, ceased its stinging.

“You are all right,” Cla’aera crooned. “Just breathe. You are all right.”

No longer winded, she tried to obey, pulling in a slow breath. But as she turned her head, grass tickling her cheek, her eyes fell on something that started her crying even harder. 

The bird’s nest, that greatest of treasures, lay on the ground beside them.

“Mama,” she sobbed, forgetting for a moment that she was definitely too big to be using a baby word like ‘mama.’“Mama, the nest!”

Cla’aera turned to look with a frown, hating as much as Mairwen did to see nature harmed, and Mairwen began to sob in earnest. 

“I-I’m s-so-sorry,” she wailed. “I di-didn’t m-mean to!”

“Oh, hush, hush. I know, Mairi. It’s all right.” But the words did not console her. The mother robin would be so heartbroken! Mairwen could never forgive herself for hurting the poor babies, especially when her own mother’s eyes began to fill with tears. 

Suddenly, they both heard a noise that silenced them. They waited, almost afraid to breathe. And then:

“Chee-eep! Cheep-cheep!”

Cla’aera crawled over to the nest, and her tears turned to laughter. 

“Look, Rusco’la! Come, look!” 

Mairwen scrambled close to her mother, afraid to see an injury that she had caused, but when she looked inside the nest, she found three perfect little chicks, their mouths open impossibly wide. Her mother hovered a hand over them and muttered a healing spell, just in case, but they seemed unharmed. In the warmth of the spell’s magic, Mairwen could feel all the call of the forest, the wind through the trees, and all the love and care of a mother for her young.

“Oh, my dear,” her mother said as she buried her head into her side. “Shh. I know you were frightened. It’s all right, now.”

It truly was. But Mairwen held tight to her mother for a while longer, breathing in her woodsy scent and feeling the warmth of her arms around her. 

Later, she would show her how to carefully replace the nest in its nook. They would eat their supper outside, watching and waiting until they saw the mother robin come fluttering back with worms. 

“A mama bird always comes back for her chicks,” her mother would say softly. And Mairwen would believe her. 

“Mummy!”

When Alwyn appeared at her side, his cheeks were pink with exertion and his eyes bright. His trousers were a dirty mess.

“Mummy, I s—there’s—I saw—!”

“Breathe,” she whispered, cupping his face in her hands. 

“I think—I think spring is really here!”

“I think so, too,” she laughed. The Waterdeep winter had quite overstayed its welcome this year, but now, finally, the cold seemed to have left for good. Grass was growing green again, and the early crocuses had come and gone. “Why do you say so? Did you see a sign?”

“Yes!” He beamed. “Pink-bugs!”

“Say that again, Love?”

“Pinkbuds!”

“Pink buds?”

“Come and see!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bench. They had stopped at a small park, and he had been darting about ever since, digging in the dirt, pulling up grass, and generally behaving like a five-year-old boy. Mairwen had let him, glad that the weather was finally warm enough for him to frolic. 

He led her around a small bend, then suddenly halted with a grand gesture toward a little tree covered in tiny flowers. 

“Pinkbuds!”

“Oh! Redbuds!” she said, finally understanding. “Those are called ‘redbuds,’ remember?”

“But these ones are pink!”

“They’re all pink, actually.” She laughed when he stuck his lip out in a pout. “I know, it’s a bit of a misnomer—that means something that has a wrong name—but you did a wonderful job finding this, Alwyn! You’re getting so good at plant identification!”

His pout vanished instantly in the face of this praise, and his chest puffed out as he smiled.

“…And you’re quite right; redbuds are a sign of spring! I think perhaps it is here to stay.”

“Hip-Hooray!” he cried. Then his eyes went wide again. “Daddy!”

He sprinted back toward the bench before Mairwen had even spotted Gale, approaching from the direction of Market Street with a parcel under one arm and their daughter held securely in the other. She followed Alwyn at a slightly more sedate pace, listening to his babbling as she reached her little family, Gale nodding along with a broad smile. 

“I…don’t actually know why they’re called that,” Gale was saying, “but I’m certain we’ve a botanical text at home that would have the answer. Hello, my dear.”

“How was it?” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he chased her lips for another. 

“…Busy, as we suspected. But I did find something for a certain someone’s first nameday.”

“Did Daddy buy you a present, Darling?” She scooped the baby away from her husband, earning a happy squeal in return, followed by a series of babbles. “Did you have fun with Dada?”

“Deh-Deh!”

“Good girl!” It was the only word she could say, as of yet, but it still made her parents’ hearts soar with pride every time she did. Gale beamed as though she had just declared her intent to study at Blackstaff. Mairwen turned her so that mother and daughter were eye-to-eye. “Can you say ‘Mama’? Mah-Mah.”

“Mumma,” Alwyn encouraged, standing on tiptoe to pat his sister’s back. “You can say it!”

“Deh-Deh,” the baby said stubbornly. Gale smirked, taking her back again. 

“Clever girl,” he praised, smothering the baby’s face in kisses to her great delight. Mairwen swatted his arm. 

“That’s hardly sportsmanlike, Gale.”

“One can’t always be a gentleman…”

“Our next baby is going to like me best,” she fired back without thinking.

“Well, of course we don’t know if—” Gale’s jaw suddenly went slack in the middle of his sentence. He blinked rapidly. “...Unless…?”

“Erm.” She pressed her lips together, swallowing nervously. His gaze bored into her.

“Mairwen.”

“It’s hard to know for certain…if or when that might be,” she said quickly, biting her lip and glancing at Alwyn, who was staring between them confusedly. “Not without checking with a cleric of some kind…”

“But you have a feeling about it.”

“I…might. Have a feeling.”

“About what?” Alwyn demanded, clearly aware that things were being left unsaid.

“Nothing, Darling. Just… You love being a big brother, don’t you?”

“Yes.” His brow furrowed. 

“Well, what would you think about another baby brother or sister someday?”

“Don’t we already have a baby?” He glanced at his sister as if expecting her to have suddenly grown.

“Well…yes. But, if there were to be another baby, it would not be for a while yet.”

“Oh.”

“Not before your sister is walking and talking, at least. Probably running, too, and causing all manner of mischief...”

Gale was still staring at her with his mouth slightly agape. She pressed another kiss to his slack jaw, lifting their daughter from his arms just as she was about to start smacking his face to get his attention. Alwyn had given up trying to guess why the adults were acting strange and was instead watching a flock of geese pass overhead. 

“Are you all right?” she whispered. Gale blinked. 

“I—Yes! Of course. More than.” He stepped closer. “I just didn’t expect…”

“Neither did I,” she huffed, looking away. “And perhaps I still don’t. I could be wrong…”

“My Love, I would trust your intuition over almost anything.”

“I didn’t want to get our hopes up.”

“It’s a bit late for that, Dearest.”

“True.” She smiled. A pudgy hand grabbed hold of her hair and pulled hard, making her grimace instead. She had been growing it out for some time, and it now reached past her shoulders, but now that the baby was in her grabby-hands phase, she was sorely tempted to crop it short again. 

“Be kind to Mama,” Gale said softly, loosing the strands from her fist. 

“Muh.”

They both froze.

“Mama,” Gale said.

“Muh.”

“That’s right.” She bounced her up and down. “That’s right. Mama.”

“Muh-Muh.”

“Yes!” She nearly jumped for joy. “Yes, Clara! Mama!”

“Well done, you clever girl!” Gale cried. “Well done! I told you she was a prodigy, Mairwen.”

“So very clever, Baby!”

Clara shrieked happily, pleased by the attention they were lavishing on her. She patted Gale’s beard as he swooped in to smooch her cheeks again. 

“Mummy, look!” Alwyn’s voice briefly drew their attention away. He was pointing up towards a nearby tree branch. “Another sign!”

“A sign?” Gale repeated.

“Of spring! Look, it’s a robin!”

A little orange-breasted bird swooped from the branches and landed in the grass, its beak tugging at something on the ground. 

“That’s right, Darling.” Mairwen’s eyes suddenly felt very wet. Gale stepped closer, wrapping his arm behind her back. They watched the bird flit around, gathering twigs for her nest. 

“Mah,” said Clara.

“That’s right.” Mairwen kissed her daughter’s soft, brown hair. “Mama.”

[i-will-write]

Writing a long multichapter fic be like

[julientel]

Tara and her favourite pet

[whiskeyskin]

Just a PSA for any fellow Tumblr drafters.

Be aware that if you go to "save" any edits, the selection defaults back to "post now". Cause apparently this app is run by ai that don't know how to leave well enough alone.

You can see from this screenshot that even though it says "save" on the button, the selection is "post now" 🤦‍♀️😒

Feedback to Tumblr here.

Change the option to feedback and inform them of the glitch. Yanno, if ya wanna aswell..

"When attempting to save a draft after editing it in the drafts page, even though the button states "save", the selection defaults back to "post now" and publishes posts prematurely. This is infuriating. Please fix asap."

It offers a crappy temporary "fix" when you try to send it but I'm not prepared to settle. Fix your damn website!

[curiouswisp]

Your OC as a Duck

Here is the link!

Thank you for the tag @lycheecatee - Duck Queenie was adorable!

Behold Duckhana, eating chips by moonlight.

Tagging @quaksi @ollypopwrites @pixiedurango @trash-nerd @handsignals @astravires @flightlessangelwings @serbarris @redheadsramblings @guacamolleee @glitteringdust @dragonworms @junejems @papayafig @sofiemystique @transdreadwolf @bronzieinthedas @ele-millennial-weirdo @rooks-dagger @zennihilation

[ele-millennial-weirdo]

This was lovely!!! Thanks for the tag @curiouswisp :3

Seems quite appropriate for Suna (since her name in Turkish means both "beautiful woman" AND "duck". Thanks Wikipedia!!!😁).

Gently tagging @hannu-made-this @optimisticgrey @afilmnoirdetective @cinder-rellish181 @bladesingerlily @asorceresswrites

[optimisticgrey]

Halsin approves :D Thanks, dear!

no pressure tagging for @whiskeyskin @missexiled @lilhumanoid

[whiskeyskin]

I feel like I've just done Helna here 🤣🤣

Gentle tags for: @roguishcat, @brynderarten and @origamihoshi ☺️

[nerdherdwriting]

Mairwen as a duck :)

Always got some ducklings she's leading. And her own duckling, of course.

[nerdherdwriting]

Just wanted to let my two followers know that I won’t be on here much during Lent. :) I may come back on Sundays, though. We’ll see. If not, I’ll talk to you guys after Easter!

[inky-here]

[nerdherdwriting]

Roll for Romance, Day 5: Ideal Date

What type of date would they do? Who planned it (or did it just… happen)? What part of the date matters most to them?

I actually think Gale and Mairwen would have different ideas of the ideal date, but I also think they would both love what the other came up with.

Gale loves to go all out, so I imagine when they get back to Waterdeep he'll pull out all the stops and try to wow her. Gale's mother would watch Alwyn for the evening, so they wouldn't have to worry about a sitter. There would be perfect flowers, a perfect restaurant, a walk in the park, and probably a bit of extra (literal) magic thrown in at various points. And at the end of the date, Gale would act the perfect gentleman and escort her home (made rather redundant by the fact that her home is also his home).

If Mairwen were to plan a perfect date herself, it would be very laid-back in comparison. She would love to take a long walk with him and talk while enjoying the scenery. Afterwards, they could have a picnic and read quietly together. I can imagine her snuggled up with Gale while he expounds upon whatever in his book has caught his interest.

Luckily, they have plenty of time for both types of perfect date in their future. :)

(I don't have any excerpts for this one, because my very long fanfic still does not even have any hand-holding. There has been imaginary hand-holding only, and one hug. I don't know that I'll have any time to write tomorrow, but maybe I will write one of these dates just for funsies.)

[nerdherdwriting]

Roll for Romance Day 4: Confession

Who confesses first? Is it planned, blurted out, or by circumstance?

Look, these idiots have like five different confessions before they finally figure things out. Don't be too hard on them, though. They're both having a really rough time...

They confess it to themselves pretty early on, but they both believe it's impossible for them to be with someone, so they keep quiet and instead confess friendship to each other. Which works, because that's honestly what they both need to start out.

In the Weave scene, Mairwen does picture holding Gale's hand, but she freaks out so badly afterwards that Gale doesn't really have time to consider that she might have feelings for him. Later, when things are awkward between them, Gale makes a point to say that he's glad to have her as a friend. Which only makes her like him even more.

At the tiefling party, Gale makes up his mind to tell her how he feels, and also to tell her why it can't work because of the orb. But she freaks out again and spills her whole traumatic backstory, and then they sort of...agree that they both have feelings, but that neither will be acting on them, and then fall asleep holding hands. Uh, platonically.

So much happens so quickly after that. It's not until defending the portal in the shadow-cursed lands, when Mair takes a bad hit for Gale and nearly dies, that they finally get together.

Well. Gale sort of yells at her for being foolish until she kisses him. So it's not exactly planned. But whatever works, right?!

“I’ve made some tea,” he said instead. She blinked at him, confused. “You...what?” He handed her a tin cup of brown liquid, carefully transferring it to her without brushing her fingers.  “Thought we might both need a pick-me-up,” he said with a strained smile.  She almost couldn’t believe it. She waited another moment for him to ask, but he remained silent. “Thank you,” she said at last, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Of course.” He shook his head. “Mending clothes the old-fashioned way, are you? Would you like me to give it a go?” Wordlessly, she handed him the trousers. He mended them with a single muttered cantrip, watching carefully as the fabric knit itself back together. It was as if the damage had never occurred. She finished her tea to distract herself from watching him. Still he did not bring up the events of the night before. He passed her the mended trousers, gave her one last smile, and headed back to the fire to start breakfast. Even when she’d ruined things utterly, he somehow managed to make her heart want him even more.

Hashtag feel the yearn...

[nerdherdwriting]

Roll for Romance Day 3: Vulnerability

Is it hard for them to open up specifically to this person?

I think both Gale and Mairwen have a little trouble opening up. They are both holding a secret from the other, and it’s partly because they know it will mean something. Gale doesn’t want Mair to find out about his folly, because he doesn’t want to disappoint or frighten her. Mairwen doesn’t want to tell Gale about her past because she knows he’ll want to talk about it, or worse, do something about it.

But both of them enjoy slowly opening up about other things, getting to know each other as friends (friends with crushes on each other, but friends nonetheless).

[nerdherdwriting]

Roll for Romance Day 2: Small Gestures

What tiny action makes the other feel seen? Is the gesture intentional or accidental?

Mairwen

I think Gale is constantly doing little things to help her, and he has no idea just how much they mean. Little things like offering to pick up her bag when she's carrying her son, or distracting her when she's worried, or letting her use his tent (without him being there) when she needs some extra rest.

She's dealing with the stress of their infection along with being worried about her child and being in charge of a group of misfits who are constantly on the verge of killing each other. So when Gale seems to notice this, she does feel seen.

I think her favorite gesture is that he's always ready to provide a distraction when she needs one.

“You know, Mairwen,” Gale said conversationally, “it strikes me that I have not had the opportunity to ask about your previous battle experience.” “You—what?” “Well, I was wondering—” “Gah!” she couldn’t hold back a cry as Shadowheart grasped firmly and yanked. The pain knocked the air out of her lungs. She tried to gasp in a breath.  “Te curo.” And then it was healed. Well, mostly, anyway; she could still feel the throbbing aftereffects of the arrow being ripped out, but the debilitating pain was gone, replaced by the cool relief of magical healing.  “—whether you’d done this before. After all, you seem quite adept in battle. Where we floundered, you stepped up and issued orders! It was quite strategic.” Mairwen blinked up at him for a moment. “...Well, I…wouldn’t say I’m much of a strategist,” she replied, once her mind had caught up with his question, “but I did spend many years with a small group of adventurers. Fighting in groups is very different from fighting solo. You get used to watching everyone at once.” She stretched out her leg experimentally. It twinged, but it would hold her weight now. “And thank you for the distraction. I think it helped.” Gale smiled proudly. “Oh, I’m told I am quite adept at distraction.”

Gale

The little things Mair does for Gale are not quite as frequent, but they are very deliberate, and they warm his heart just as much. The moment she finds out about his condition, she starts hoarding items for him, and she's always the first to make sure he's all right. She loves to have discussions with him, and even thinks to bring him books and things that he might find interesting. She shares a wedge of Waterdhavian cheese with him one night, knowing it would be a taste of home. And when they're all dying of fever the night before the Dream Guardian appears, he wakes to find a wet cloth laid over his forehead.

I’m not dead. It was not the first time in his life that he’d awoken with such a thought. His hand came up to prod at the markings on his chest as he recalled the other time, but the orb was about as sated as it had been yesterday. He took stock of himself: aching limbs, but no injuries; aching head, but no confusion; all fingers and toes in working order; forehead...actually quite cool.  He slowly raised a hand to touch his forehead. A cloth lay across it, still slightly damp. As if in answer to his unspoken question, there was a soft noise beside him. He finally opened his eyes fully and took in the occupants of his tent.  Seeing her lying beside him brought everything back — the fever, her pleas for help, darkness taking him, and a sense of coolness on his brow. He dragged the cloth away and stared at her slumbering face, something warm squeezing his heart. 

[nerdherdwriting]

Day 1: First impressions

"What is the very first thing they notice about each other? Do they feel drawn in, annoyed, curious, or intimidated?"

(With bonus excerpts of their meeting)

Mairwen

The first thing Mairwen notices about Gale is his hand, sticking out of a stone. All in all, she's not thrilled to pull him out; she knows from experience that not all wizards are trustworthy. But she's a little relieved (and maybe a tiny bit intimidated) when she realizes who he is. Surely having Gale of Waterdeep in their party will make her and her son's survival more likely.

Her initial thoughts are not remotely romantic. She and Alwyn were just abducted by mind flayers, and she has more important things to worry about. On later reflection, she does find that she liked him right from the start, even though he immediately puts his foot in his mouth by mentioning ceremorphosis in front of her son, and later by calling her "unstudied." And she does wish he'd stop calling her "Miss Grayling."

Despite the fact that they have the classic wizard/sorcerer thing going on, there's really no rivalry, because Mairwen isn't interested in it. Once she gets over the fact that he's an archmage, they become normal friends.

“Hello!” He used his still-outstretched hand to grab and shake her gloved one. “I’m Gale of Waterdeep.” Unwanted though the contact was, it was over too quickly for her to be overly perturbed, and his harried combination of sheepishness and good manners was enough to make her relax minutely. Then her mind caught up with her ears, and she realized where she’d heard that name before. “Apologies,” the man continued. “I’m usually better at this.” “At using a simple teleportation rune? I should think so, Archmage,” she said with a nervous smile. She’d assumed it would lighten the mood, but instead she caught a flicker of uncertainty tugging his brow downwards. “I— pardon?” His tone was still pleasant, but Mair winced at what had obviously been a bit of a misstep. “Sorry.” She held out her hand to shake a second time. “Mairwen Grayling, also of Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you, Archmage.”

Gale

Mairwen also puts her foot in her mouth right off the bat by recognizing Gale as an archmage, which rattles him. He is worried that she might have heard about what happened between him and Mystra, or ask him about his exile from the magical community. But as time goes on, he realizes she's been away from Waterdeep too long to have heard about it. He also notices -- in a purely objective sense, of course -- that she is very beautiful, and intelligent to boot. He's fascinated by the mystery of her education. Most of all, he wants to help her. It's a sad sight, seeing a young single mother struggling with all this by herself.

“You seem to be a mage,” he said to Mairwen, and both she and her little boy turned their heads to look at him, “but you’re not versed in magic, are you?” “Perhaps not by your standards,” she said with a rueful smile. “I am a storm sorcerer with half an education and a lot of experience.” “Ah, my apologies. What I meant was: are you studied in magic? Namely: are you a wizard? Which you are not.” He hadn’t meant it as a slight, but a flash of something flickered across the woman’s face — too quickly for Gale to read, and he was a notoriously fast reader — before she schooled it into a neutral expression. Hopefully not anger, but given his personal experience with sorcerers, it very likely had been. Still, she herself had owned that she was not versed in magic by his own standards, so perhaps he should give her the benefit of the doubt. The same could not be said for the child, whose face scrunched up — rather adorably, he had to admit — into an expression of severe offense. “She did too studied!” the boy insisted. “She fought krakens and she went to wizard school!” “He didn’t mean it like that, Alwyn,” his mother hushed him, but Gale’s curiosity was piqued. “Is that true?” “Fighting krakens? No, you’ll have to blame my father for telling him tall tales.” Her breath hitched for a moment, but she closed her eyes and quickly mastered her expression as if nothing had happened. “As for the rest: as I said, I have half an education — and ‘half’ may be a bit generous. You’re right that I’m not a wizard.” “You attended an academy, then? In Waterdeep?” “It hardly matters now. Circumstances changed, and I left Waterdeep years ago. I’ve a stall at the Wide — the market in Baldur’s Gate — selling enchanted items.” Gale nearly halted, stumbling slightly as he did so. “You—ahem—sell enchanted items?” He tried not to look as though he had more than a professional interest, but he doubted he had much success. After all, what were the chances? Mairwen gave him an assessing glance, and her back straightened with confidence. “I enchant them myself.” A sharp, hungry pang in Gale’s chest nearly took his breath away. He told himself it was only psychosomatic, but even so, he had to restrain himself from asking to see her wares then and there. He didn’t need an item yet, and she might not have been carrying any when she’d been abducted. Besides, it wouldn’t do to show his hand so early into their acquaintance. “That’s quite impressive, for only half an education,” he said instead, because in truth it was. Most wizards didn’t bother learning such a skill, let alone sorcerers.

(I tried to keep both excerpts short, but I'm ✨incapable✨)