Ok technically I have posted part of this fic before, but also that was 2 years ago (jfc time needs to chill out) and the BG3 brainrot is back. This is part of my co-op fic, featuring mine and four of my friends' Tavs. If some of these words look familiar, they probably are, but there are more this time. Enjoy!
Pairing: Gale/Shoras
Summary: Shoras can't sleep, and decides to check on their resident wizard, but something is wrong, and it might not have anything to do with the tadpole.
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: Brief descriptions of panic-attack-like symptoms
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Despite her best efforts, sleep didn't come easy. No amount of ignoring the tadpole could stop the faint squirming sensation behind her right eye. Shoras began to think Lae’zel might have been right when she suggested they keep moving, rather than spending the night in the druid’s grove.
Shoras flopped over to her other side with a huff, cursing lumpy sandstone underneath the thin fabric of the bedroll digging into her side. She wondered if the others were just as uncomfortable. Giving up on sleep for the moment, she sat up, intent on exploring the grove some more.
Across the room of their makeshift campsite, Quill and Reed laid fast asleep on their own bedrolls, with Mo and Lae’zel across from them. After the goblin attack at the gate, Jaymes and Astarion offered to stand watch by the entrance to their cave, just in case any more happened to be lurking in the darkness.
The campfire they’d set up before going to sleep was still burning strong. Sitting on the ground, tending to the logs with a dead goblin’s scimitar, was the silhouette of the wizard Shoras had pulled from the teleportation rune. Gale of Waterdeep, he’d called himself, but later specified that just Gale would suffice. With little else to do aside from pacing across the grove all night, Shoras decided to check on him.
Gale let out a deep sigh, warming his hands over the campfire as she approached. “Go to hell.” he said, slowly, never taking his eyes off the flames.
She hadn’t expected Gale to be optimistic about their decidedly terrifying situation, but a more polite greeting to the person who saved his life would have been nice. Blinking at the sudden attitude, Shoras replied with, “Been there, done that. Wouldn’t exactly recommend it.”
“Ha-” he turned his head to look at her with a half smile. “You’re a good sport.”
“I do try. Mind if I join you?”
“By all means.” Gale gestured to the space at his side, moving away to make room as she sat down beside him.
The smoky aroma in the air, combined with the heat radiating off the fire seemed to calm the tadpole’s insistent writhing. “Anything in particular I did to deserve that lovely greeting?” Shoras asked, to distract herself from the sudden itching sensation.
“Nothing, I assure you. I’m just… poorly making a point.”
“By telling a tiefling to go to hell?” she chuckled.
Gale opened his mouth to explain, but quickly abandoned the thought in favor of another. “Perhaps one day I’ll find myself able to speak with you without making an ass of myself, but it appears that day will not be today.”
“Well, there’s always tomorrow.” she shrugged, already wondering what might come of their mission to rescue the archdruid. “That is, assuming we survive the night.”
“Hmm. True enough. What a difference a day makes.” he replied, wistfully.
“Tell me about it. Why do you think I’m out here? I can’t sleep with this... thing, in my head.” As she spoke, Shoras could already feel her eyelids grow heavier. A weariness began to seep into her body as the warmth of the flames caressed her skin. Despite the many unknowns of their unwelcome passengers, it seemed odd that the tadpole would respond to a change in temperature outside the body. “What are you still doing up?” she asked, through a yawn.
“The fire was starting to dim. After the debacle with those goblins, I thought it best to keep some light around us.” Gale replied.
“I can keep an eye on it,” she offered. “if you wanted to get some sleep.”
He considered the statement, before shaking his head. “A ballet of flames invites reflection. I’d rather stay, if it’s all the same to you.” It didn’t take the connection of a mind flayer tadpole to know what was bothering him. Their shared affliction had been on (and in) everyone’s mind since escaping the Nautiloid.
“Afraid I’ll turn while you’re sleeping and eat your brain?” she smirked.
Gale wasn’t quite as amused. His eyes locked onto hers, nervously studying her face as if she was about to transform right in front of him.
“I’m just joking... I’m fine.” she said, firmly.
“Oh, I’m sure you are.” Gale replied, his expression relaxing as he turned towards the fire once again. “Illithids aren’t exactly known for their wit. Famously humorless creatures.”
“Then I’ll be sure to crack a joke or two every once and a while, just so you know you’re safe around me.” Shoras said, nudging his arm with her elbow.
Hidden in the firelight reflecting off his face, she could have sworn she saw him smile. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.
Shoras had only met the wizard a handful of times before. None of which he seemed to remember. His hair used to be shorter, and he was always clean shaven whenever he visited Sorcerer’s Sundries. She wondered how much of his appearance was due to the perils of the road, and how much was from the falling-out he had with Mystra.
“Unfortunately, our safety is not likely to last.” Gale pointed out. He jostled the ember-crusted logs once more, before settling back at Shoras’s side— slightly closer than before.
A sudden ache in her chest began to drown out all other thoughts. The tadpole flinched, as if it felt the pain as its own.
“We all remain blissfully symptom-free for the moment, but I fear it is only the calm before the storm.” he added.
Shoras feared he was right. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as a chill slithered down her spine. Something was wrong. It was as if her very essence was being drained from her body. “We’ll… find someone to help us.” she told him, despite the cold sweat on her brow, and the unsettling dread in her heart.
“How can you sound so certain?” Gale asked.
Reed had already assured them that their research with Halsin was leaps and bounds ahead of their current knowledge. If anyone had any shot of removing their tadpoles, it would be him. With any luck, they’d be cured within the next tenday, and they could all go their separate ways.
“Because we have to.”
Gale studied her face with increasing concern, searching for errant tentacles or any other signs of transformation. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t-” Shoras struggled to catch her breath, her vision swimming with each passing second. “I don’t know.”
“Stay right there. I’ll wake the cleric.” Gale stumbled to his feet, his gaze darting around the camp to look for Mo.
“Wait-” Seemingly, without any rhyme or reason, the sensation faded. Whether it was a symptom of ceremorphosis, or simply a bout of indigestion, she wasn’t sure. “It’s… I think it’s passing, I’m alright now.”
“Are you certain?”
Shoras nodded. “Yes. I think so. It’s probably just exhaustion. It’s been quite the day.”
Gale breathed a sigh of relief, but the fear never left his eyes. “I suppose that’s fair. We should probably get some rest.”
“Agreed.” Shoras stood to return to her uncomfortable bedroll.
As she passed by the wizard, she felt the soul-draining sensation again, but it faded the moment he was an arms length away. Shoras stared at the dark purple veins creeping down his left cheek, wondering if it was just a trick of the light that they appeared to glow, faintly.
Something to ask him about, in the morning.
“Good night, Gale.”
The wizard awkwardly cleared his throat, but gave a solemn nod in reply. “And to you.”
Another piece from the longfic marinating in my drafts. This is how SJ and Gale met (Again)
[Gale's POV]
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The rune carved into the cliff face wasn’t unlike the one she had already passed near the ruined temple, save for the dangerous-looking purple vortex threatening to suck in anyone who approached. Despite multiple warnings from her companions, SJ was already at the mercy of her curiosity. So while the others ventured on towards the dead goblins in the middle of the path in search of supplies, SJ began her investigation into what caused the rune to react so spectacularly.
She reached out towards the vortex, feeling a sharp pain shoot through her fingertips as the malfunctioning magic retaliated with an electric shock. Anyone else might have left it alone, realizing that perhaps the sigil didn’t wish to be disturbed, but in their brief moment of connection, SJ sensed the presence of a different kind of magic from within. Dangerous, volatile magic that didn't match the rune, or even the control panel on the Nautiloid.
Before she could determine where she’d sensed such magic before, an arm shot out from the center of the vortex. It couldn’t have been a conjuration, not with a faded purple sleeve and a pale human hand, waving erratically as if reaching for something.
Someone was trapped inside the stone.
“A hand?” asked a disembodied voice, presumably attached to the rest of the arm.
“Who are you?” SJ asked, taking a cautious step back.
“Just your average traveler, stuck between realms.” The voice replied, as the hand continued to grasp for purchase.
After a quick examination of the rune, SJ took a moment to attune her magic to it, pleading with it to calm down. The portal began to expand, allowing the hand to reach further towards her.
“Yes! That’s it! Whatever you’re doing is working wonders! Now, a quick little pull should do the trick.” His voice almost sounded... familiar. Where had she heard it before?
Taking the hand in both of hers, SJ dug her heels into the dirt as she pulled with all her might, hoping it would be enough to free the stranger. To her surprise, her limited strength was enough.
The rest of the human— thankfully, still attached to the arm— flew out through the portal, landing ungracefully in the dirt. SJ stumbled backwards as she landed beside him, watching as the vortex shrank into obscurity, and left behind a simple teleportation rune.
Once they managed to pick themselves up and dust themselves off, SJ got a better look at the human she’d saved. Shoulder-length brown hair with eyes to match, a short beard, and purple wizard robes.
Save for the beard, SJ couldn’t shake the feeling she’d seen him somewhere before.
The wizard grabbed her hand for a firm handshake, catching her even further off guard. “Hello, I’m Gale, of Waterdeep. Apologies, I’m usually better at this.”
Of course. It had to be him.
The infamous ‘Wizard of Waterdeep’ was well-known within the arcane community of Baldur’s Gate. Back when SJ worked in Sorcerer’s Sundries, she occasionally made small talk while he waited for appointments with other mages, and even sold him a scroll or two. She’d often heard grapevine rumors about the accolades of Mystra’s former chosen, but she never heard what became of him after he was banished from Elysium.
“No need to apologize.” She instinctively replied. “Are you alright?”
“A bit shocked. But, friend, it’s a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He grinned. “Say, but I know you… don’t I?”
SJ blinked in surprise, her tadpole humming in concert with her fear. She hadn’t expected the wizard would remember their limited interactions in the magic shop. “I suppose you do.”
“Well, in a manner of speaking. You were on the Nautiloid as well.”
Or perhaps he didn’t.
“Oh… Uh, yes. I was.” she replied. “I take it that means you also ended up with a worm in your eye?” It was more of a rhetorical question as her tadpole began to writhe. Somehow she knew he’d been infected as well.
“Indeed. You don’t happen to be a cleric by any chance, do you?” he asked. “We are going to need a healer, and soon. If my math is correct, we have approximately 7 days to find a cure.”
How far they’d fallen. Respected members of the arcane community, reduced to nothing more than hosts for mind flayer tadpoles. “Unfortunately, I’m not a cleric. But I’m also not alone. There are other survivors from the crash, just up ahead. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Ah, wonderful!” he exclaimed. “A parasite shared is a parasite... halved. Or... something to that effect.” he trailed off. “Shall we?”
“Sure.” SJ chuckled quietly at his rather amusing turn of phrase. “The others are this way.”
The wizard fell into step alongside her as she guided him towards their growing company of adventurers. “I didn’t catch your name.” he said, almost in the form of a question.
She hoped he wouldn’t catch the hesitation before her reply. Their reputations in Baldur’s Gate were nowhere near the same level of renown, but there was a chance he’d learned of her recent exploits, and subsequent banishment from the community.
“SJ.” she lied, refusing to make eye contact as she made a mental note once again.
“Well met.” he nodded, cordially.
“And you, Gale of Waterdeep.”
“Please, just ‘Gale’ will suffice.” he smiled.
“Gale it is, then.”
“I don’t suppose you know of any wizards in this troupe of yours?” he asked. “There is a matter I’d like to seek advice on.”
“Couple of bards, a cleric, and a druid from a nearby grove. I’m the closest thing we’ve got to a wizard, but if we all survived, there have to be others. Why? What do you need?”
“Oh, nothing you need concern yourself with. You’re right, there must be other survivors versed in magic…” he said, casually.
“What exactly is it that you need advice on? I am a sorcerer. There’s as much magic in me as there is in you.”
The wizard didn’t seem inclined to agree. “One might as well compare apples to oranges where the Weave is concerned.” he chuckled, lightly. “You’ve an innate connection to it, of course, but where you merely call upon the Weave, I’ve spent decades learning to compose it.” he added, with a flick of his wrist.
“That’s a bit of an unfair assumption, don’t you think?” She replied, in a more defensive tone than she intended.
“Oh, I do apologize.” Somehow, she doubted the sincerity of his apology. “Are you studied in magic?” he asked.
“I mean… a little?” Shame burned in her cheeks as he called her bluff. “I’ve been trying to study more, I’ve just been… preoccupied, as of late. You of all people should know what that’s like.”
sorry, i saw your tags and i was curious. so your oc sj gets her name from the initials of her full name, am i right? so when she marries gale is she SJD or does she still go by SJ? (from: @gale-dekarios)
Excellent question!
Yes, SJ still stands for Shoras Dekarios.
(Lore, just because. SJ is the nickname she comes up with on the spot so Gale doesn't find out who she really is, or that she got shunned by the arcane community in Baldur's Gate)
After she gets married, she's still SJ to her friends, but Gale sometimes calls her Shoras when they're alone because he secretly loves her name, no matter what reputation is attached to it 😌
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