Amelia had done everything she could to work up the courage and act on the need she felt in her veins to contact her otherworldly mentor for an endeavor even she, the famed Emerald Witch, could not possibly achieve on her own. On the day that she checked out of the hotel, or rather, woke up and found herself back in Blackgale, there was a crow perched on her kitchen counter as if waiting to welcome her back.
“Tell him I need something.”
The crow flew away to deliver her message after she opened her window. She didn’t give a set time or date to meet. He would pass through and meet with her on his own terms and act on his own fancy. And much to her relief, it did not take much time. It did, however, take a week, enough time for her anxiety to work itself up into a frenzy, doubts to cloud her mind, and her resolve begin to crumble.
If this led nowhere, Amelia would have to accept the possibility of either spending fruitless amounts of years trying to bridge a gap between worlds or never seeing Gale Dekarios again.
But she couldn’t accept that. She wasn’t the same broken woman she was over ten years ago when her first love died and she had no hope for the future. Here there was hope, here there was someone who was still out there waiting for her and worth fighting for using everything she had gained. Amelia had the power, but her Envisioning has yet to propel her to voyage among the vast expanse of stars and beyond.
And so, a week later, the Witch King appeared in her garden, his crimson red hair gleaming in the late afternoon sun, a corruption in the otherwise idyllic and peaceful sanctuary. She ignored the distortion of space around them and how his presence made the sky crackle, the flowers change colors and shapes, how sound and noise twisted around them, and stared at him straight into his ink-black eyes that stared through her.
“Welcome back from vacation! How was it my dear?”
Of course he knew.
She got to her point quickly enough. The Emerald Witch wanted a spell to help her cross to another world or at least acquire a language in magic that could bring her closer to her goal. He listened to her while idly playing with his hair and when she finished, that was when he laughed. The witch bit down on her lip and clenched her fists, but did not lash out, waiting for him to be done.
“You don’t need my help. Well, I joke; I can give you a bit of a push. But honestly, I can tell you’re desperate if you hadn’t looked at what materials you already have at your disposal.”
He pointed to her delicate, golden bracelet around her wrist and she lifted it up to her eyes, dumbfounded. Before she could blink, the Witch King slipped it off and held it between his fingers.
“Oh, a Sending spell? A neat little trick, but it’s not enough for our purposes.”
Before she could protest, he crushed the bracelet in his palm and it emitted several sparks of magic. When he opened up his palm to return it to her, Amelia was relieved to see it was intact, but…
“I just gave it a boost. Nothing much. You figure out the rest on your own. Far be it from me to do everything for you since you’re already irate about asking for me in the first place.”
The Witch King gives a flippant farewell and disappears. The distorted world stills and achieves its equilibrium once again and Amelia is left with Gale’s gift, now throbbing with even more mysterious energy.
✨🌹
It was just a matter of coaxing her house to conjure up just the right door to insert her bracelet into. She failed many, many times. The bracelet simply wouldn’t react to any entrances and forcing it didn’t help.
A month passed. And then two. It became a routine to look down her hallway to see if any new doors appeared and to hold up the bracelet to see there was a change. After month three was when things looked up.
The door was old and beaten, but elaborately decorated. The bracelet thrummed and Amelia quickly tied several strands of her hair around it. The strands diffused into magic and seeped into the enchanted metal. It floated before her, the golden rose and chain expanding in size and glowing brightly until it was metal no more, but pure magical energy that pressed itself into the door.
This was it. If this didn’t work, she would keep going, but god she wanted this to be the one.
Her hand wrapped around the doorknob and she twisted it and pushed it open.
Everything went dark.
✨🌹
In the grand scheme of things a house appearing in the waters off the coast of Baldur’s Gate (way past High Hall and far from the site of the now dead Netherbrain) feels like small potatoes after the great calamity had passed and was conquered. That wasn’t to say it didn’t attract anyone’s notice and someone was certainly going to have to do something about it.
[His sudden return to the bloody patch of the Sword Coast that he and his companions had temporarily come to call home was a terribly rude awakening.
He had always thought, perhaps foolishly, that when his time came to check out of the hotel, when he had no choice but to return to Faerun to take care of those matters he had left untended, that he would at least have the opportunity to say goodbye, to reiterate that he had a plan. As it stood, he had been granted no such grace: rather than awakening in the room that he had altered to reflect his beloved tower, he found himself on the cold ground and looking up at convex ceiling of his tent, alone, his bedroll doing little to soften the stone beneath him. The bustling sounds of a morning at camp and the smell of the lower city told him precisely where he was.
Baldur's Gate.
His heart sinks. All at once, he recalls precisely what trials he faces here, in addition to what he had left behind. His own promise resonates, the assurance that he would find his way back to the woman he had come to love so deeply— a promise he has absolutely no intention of breaking.
First, he has to live— and for the first time since he had set out on this journey, he wants to.]
✨🌹
[The days following the defeat of the Netherbrain are surreal, to say the least. So much has happened in such a short time that Gale has been able to do little but focus on what's directly ahead of him, but not once has he forgotten his goal, his reason for wanting to make it through— once, he would have been at peace with allowing his death to mean something, but now he has higher goals, greater ambitions, and they do their part to help him pull through to the end. Their victory is hard-won and not without casualties— much of the city has suffered immensely, but it still stands and that is a greater relief than most are willing to admit.
The Crown of Karsus is returned to Mystra, the truth of its nature revealed. She offers forgiveness, or what she would consider to be such, and Gale's answer is no longer what he'd once thought it might be. What he had once thought to be love now rings terribly hollow, and he does not allow himself to be baited by the implication that he might be Chosen of Mystra once more— instead, he will walk a different path, though Mystra will never be able to cease hearing him when he calls upon the Weave. As a wizard, he remains as much in her service as any of his ilk, but as people, they have gone their separate ways.
The orb is removed from his chest, though its mark on him remains. He is still a long way from what had once been his full power, but given room to recover, he now has the opportunity to mend his relationship with the Weave itself, to restore that connection and become his old self again— or, perhaps, a new version of Gale entirely. No longer Gale of Waterdeep, wizard of great renown and scholar of considerable acclaim, but Gale Dekarios— a wizard and dedicated scholar of intentionally moderate renown, intent on dedicating his talents to serving the magical community in new ways.
Days turn into weeks, then months. When he is able, he dedicates his time to planar studies and the potential for traveling between worlds beyond the planar system itself. The potential is certainly there, but no spell has yet been developed, no method defined, and even Elminster has little to offer but encouragement.
"If anyone can manage it, my boy, I believe it would be you. You have always been meant for great things. I am glad to see you have gained the wisdom with which to temper that ambition of yours."
He and a few of his companions remain in Baldur's Gate to assist in rebuilding, in aiding the locals in recovering from all that the Chosen of the Dead Three had put them through, but every spare moment he has, his efforts are tireless. He uses every resource available to him, including spending long days within Ramazith Tower with the permission of its new master. He foregoes sleep more often than he ought, but the goal, he feels, is well worth it.
Whatever it takes, he is determined to find his way.]
✨🌹
[It's Rolan who brings the house out past the harbor to Gale's attention initially, his response being a puzzled furrow of the brow as he pauses in helping himself to a number of Ramazith's tomes to further his research. Though it is raised as an odd curiosity, it is agreed that it ought to be investigated, strange as it is— though the city has certainly seen stranger in recent months. Gale can only hope this might be the harmless kind of strange, but something in his gut tells him that he ought to have a look for himself before the Flaming Fist gets involved.
When he arrives at the harbor, across from the Water Queen's House, it appears that he isn't the only one whose attention had been drawn that way— Shadowheart is there before him, looking out to sea with her arms folded across her chest, frowning thoughtfully.
"Here I was about to go looking for you to see what you might make of this. I can't imagine Umberlee's followers will be content to let it remain undisturbed for long."]
Something tells me that we ought to take a look before they or the Flaming Fist get any ideas.
[The cleric chuffs softly, bracing a hand against her hip.
"I'll accompany you, if you like. I can't say I've ever seen a house like it."]
Darkness had engulfed her vision the second she opened the door. It was a rush of sensation, magic energies both knowable and foreign crackled around her and all at once shut down Amelia's entire bodily system. No, she wasn't dead; she could register her body going numb and falling onto the floor. What irritated her most was that she was conscious, but not at the same time, aware, but unable to do much about it.
The witch tries not to panic. It was an inconvenience, but in light of what was done, there was an academic explanation to it. If she had successfully opened a door that led to Faerun, the energy required to open it and subsequently transport herself and her entire house would be astoundingly substantial. Regarding her own presence, she is by definition a foreigner and her partial blackout most likely served a purpose in diminishing her presence to make her less threatening to the many internal and external forces of this world. Most of all, her own body needed the rest and readjustment from the sudden travel.
Yes. That's exactly it, thinks the witch self-assuringly.
...
...
In truth, rationalizing helps keep her troubled mind at bay. How long has it been? Will she ever wake up? Did she end up in a location far from where Gale could be or even worse, the wrong world?
An unknowable amount of hours later, she's finally able to open her eyes and sit up. Her head is throbbing, but everything else seems to be in order. The room she's in is concerningly empty, but...]
Is that water...?
[There's one large window gracing her with the view of the outside. It's not her garden or the canopy of trees from Blackgale. Instead, the usual scenery is replaced by an open sky, languid waves, and a mysterious cityscape in the distance.
The witch feels her heart thump against her chest as she stands and stares. Is this it? Did she really make it? But she still feels too weak to move and too cautious to just run out the door without properly assessing the new environment.
With her hand against the walls, Amelia makes her way to her living room where her wind chimes hang from the ceiling.
It was time to send a scout.]
✨🌹
[The mysterious abode isn't just sitting in the water. Its foundation is like a small island, grassy and surrounded by flowers such as poppies, daisies, cosmos, and roses. Other than those, the signs of life were few.
Something does emerge from a window, flapping its glass wings while its metal tubes and attachments tingle and chime beneath it. The glass butterfly makes one flight around the house before moving away and towards the shore. It hovers in the air as if looking for something, someone...
And very soon, it flies towards a certain wizard and half-elf who had been observing from afar.]
[The appearance of an new island alone would have been enough to draw attention, however small it may be, but there is something about the house and garden resting atop it that strikes Gale as somehow familiar despite the fact that he knows for certain he has never seen either. It's something more than their appearance; a resonance of sorts, and the fact that he feels it from this distance speaks to its significance— all the more reason to investigate more closely.
He deploys a Mage Hand to start untying the ropes mooring the fishing boat he and Shadowheart have opted to 'borrow' while the cleric proceeds to loosen those at the back, both adventurers having securely lowered themselves from the docks without managing to draw attention to themselves. Though he doesn't expect trouble, he would prefer that they be able to set out without having to field any unnecessary questions, and in that respect, they seem to be quite fortunate.
They're hardly five meters out from the dock when something flying above them catches his eye; sunlight hits the colored glass as it approaches from the direction of the small island, the hue marking it as distinctly different from the seabirds circling the harbor, and the moment he catches a glimpse of the windchimes hanging from it, his breath catches, his grip against the stern of the boat tightening.
Could it be?
He wants to believe it, even if part of him is cautious of being too hopeful for fear of disappointment— that resonance, the nature of the scout that had been sent forth, the otherworldly design of the dwelling itself. It's enough to tell him that it truly could be, and by the gods, if anyone were going to be clever enough to manage this trick before he did—
He quickly looks back to his companion, his eyes bright with a wild, almost manic quality that Shadowheart has not had occasion to see in him for some time, and she raises an eyebrow coolly in question as he quickly gets to his feet, clearly calculating something in that head of his, the wheels turning rapidly as he sorts himself.]
Stay here— all of a sudden, I have a hunch as to what we might find up ahead. I'm going.
[He speaks quickly, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, and the cleric furrows her brow, even if she trusts his judgment— mostly.
"Are you sure you should be running off alone? If you get yourself killed, at least Karlach and Wyll are going to be very disappointed."
He chuckles warmly, tracing the rune for flight in the air with a few precise flicks of his wrist before he gently pushes off from the boat by propping a boot against one of the planks that serves as a seat.]
If my hunch is correct, it's not a potential enemy we'll find there— quite the opposite!
[The butterfly windchime is within proximity of the wizard and pauses to hover above his head. Sunlight shines through its glass wings and its metal tubes sing to Gale as if beckoning him to follow.
Meanwhile, Amelia had weakly laid herself on her sofa, eyes closed and breathing softly. Waiting. And much to her surprise, she didn't need to wait all that long. Her roof rattles and her other windchimes relay the message of the scout like a glorious choir. She bolts upright, eyes widened and her heart thumping against her chest.
Did I do it?
Adrenaline floods her veins and the magic in her hair begins to circulate erratically through every strand, giving her enough energy to stand up and drag herself to the door.
Will he be there on the other side?
One of her worst fears while trying to open a gate was the many obstacles that Gale had to face all while she was worlds away. There was the Orb, the tadpole in his brain, and so many other dangers that Faerun had to throw at him and his party. Yes, he was always more than capable even in his weakened state and yet the most miniscule of doubts remained like a scab in her mind, itching to be scratched so that it could grow and paralyze her even more.
But she didn't get this far only to stop now. The front door opens and she's greeted with a wave of coastal air washing over her face and through her hair. She struggles to regain her balance, but manages, staring at the city in the distance. There are many ships of various sizes and dots of people and other signs of life. And further ahead, she hears her lone windchime echo in the distance near a boat...]
... Gale.
[Amelia takes the first step and stumbles, falling to one knee before pushing herself up.]
Gale...!
[Her voice isn't strong enough yet and neither are her faculties as she almost takes a step on the edge of the makeshift island to tumble into the water. The witch swears and looks down at her feet surrounded by flowers, back at the small figures in the distance and back at her feet again.
She closes her yes and takes a deep breath and then a few steps backwards. She counts to ten. The Emerald Witch lets her magic pulse through her body, steadfast and enticing to the same forces that the wizard of Waterdeep uses towards her. She feels it respond and intertwine with her own being. Her mind clears itself of everything except for a singular image. A path to him.
And then she sprints forward. Earth, grass, and flowers burst to life beneath her feet with smaller ones of emerald green magic sparking with each step she makes across the water.
This wasn't the finish line. This is a new beginning.]
[Even at a great distance, there is no mistaking her. A flash of brilliant red, the unmistakable ripple of magic that stands apart from the Weave and yet remains familiar to him, the arcane pulse that may well be the Emerald Witch's heartbeat.
She had done it. He had toiled for months, intent on finding his way back to her, and for perhaps the first time in his life, he is truly glad to have been shown up— he had never doubted her, not for a moment; his heart had always been equal parts brilliant and stubborn.
He races towards her, water rippling in his wake as his spell breaks the surface tension and he leaves his companion behind, no longer bearing thought for anything but the woman running across the water towards him— that he is still alive to see her again, that they have conquered the divide between worlds to see one another are both miracles in their own right, and nothing matters but reaching her.]
Amelia!
[She calls his name, and he pushes himself forward; nothing else registers and time itself feels suspended. He is near breathless, momentarily lost for words when he reaches her, extending a hand to catch her arm and pull her into a tight embrace, twining his arms around her and burying his face against her hair. His heart beats fit to burst out of his chest before it catches in his throat; he inhales the scent of her for the first time in months and slowly, steadily finds his voice, holding her against his chest as they both hover above the water, and a laugh escapes him, amazed and half-startled.]
I should have known you would be the one to crack it, my heart.
[Her heart leaps as he becomes clearer in her view and it hastens her feet as flower petals and blades of grass fly all around her. When he calls her name her heart gets caught in her throat and there's almost a small fear of this being too good to be true and that there will be one last second mistake that would make this all disappear.
But Gale doesn't disappear. He extends his hand towards her and pulls her into his arms and her own automatically wraps around him. His warmth envelopes her in a way nothing else, no one else ever could and the witch chokes down a sob that threatens to escape her from all the sheer relief and the overwhelming success of hope that shakes her very foundation.
For once, a miracle didn't go wrong for the Emerald Witch.
She takes a deep and shuddery breath as she finds her voice.]
You're... You're alive.
[Amelia doesn't even care that her words come out raspy or about her lack of composure in her tone. Her hands find their way to his face and she only draws back enough to look into his eyes while her thumb traces his cheek.]
[He laughs again as he turns his face into her touch; there is genuine joy there, but something else, as well— disbelief, perhaps, that this has truly come to pass, at all that had come before this.]
You almost were.
[There's a faint smile as he makes that particular confession, and his hold on her tightens just slightly, as though if he doesn't hold on tightly enough, she'll slip away as suddenly as she'd appeared— something he absolutely cannot risk, and the weight of his gaze as she meets it is broken only by the threat of tears that has begun.]
Then I remembered I had something to fight to live for— a promise to keep. This once, I am overjoyed to have been outdone.
[It didn't matter which of them found the other first, only that they had.]
[If she was more collected in the moment, she would have admitted she needed a push in the right direction via the Witch King, but that's neither here nor there. Gale in front of her and being in each other's arms, is all that matters. His admittance and the intensity of his gaze causes unavoidable tears to well up in the corner of her eyes. Amelia defiantly rubs them away with the back of her fist]
Well... [Hold on, she'll reach up catch any tears from her beloved's eyes while holding his face.]
I think you'll be pleased to know you were always going to be my most pressing matter. Home itself isn't in any dire straits compared to... Well, I'm here now anyways.
[The witch glances back and forth and behind Gale, noting that there is a boat with someone witnessing their reunion.]
Should we go back to shore? There's a lot to catch up on and... Oh, god. How long has it been for you?
[Probably not years, thankfully, but it had been at least three months for her.]
[His smile crooks fondly to one side as her thumb gently swipes away the tears that threaten to fall— she, too, had been his utmost priority, once he had been free to pursue it, and he can only pull her into another tight embrace for a moment, unable to truly express his gladness in words. It was not often that Gale of Waterdeep found himself unable to articulate something, but some moments were too big for even his vocabulary to sufficiently capture.]
If I weren't holding you right now, I would hardly believe it— even so, it almost feels too good to be true, but—
[She draws his attention to the boat he had left behind; he looks back just in time to see Shadowheart raise a hand to hail them, and he exhales another peal of awed laughter, shaking his head.]
You're quite right. We've much to talk about, and we would be better served by having our feet on dry land. [He turns just enough to gesture broadly towards the docks, his smile blooming wider.] Welcome, my love, to Baldur's Gate— the Sword Coast's 'Halfway to Everywhere.'
"Hello. I'm Amelia Eva Steinbeck and I'm a witch. I'm new to this world, but not new to Gale."
[This was Amelia's (awkward) introduction given to Shadowheart once she and Gale released themselves from each other's embrace. As they got on the boat, the earth that sprouted beneath Amelia's feet crumbles behind them automatically, ensuring no curious bystanders or authorities had an easy path to her house. Mechanics and technicalities be damned; it's a miracle she's made it to Baldur's Gate at all and the witch is content with pushing the details aside to focus on Gale and well... Everything else.
Their time at Hotel Caelum has mostly made Amelia immune to the peculiar sight of Shadowheart's appearance and that of the non-human denizens, but it's still challenging to force herself not to stare at various races. More importantly, the city itself was in an obvious state of repair. Besides the businesses going about as usual, the consequences of the warfare that had occurred haven't been completely erased.
Amelia squeezes Gale's hand, endlessly relieved he wasn't part of the damage.
They finally make it to a peculiar tower manned by a gruff looking tiefling who blinks at the witch, but nonetheless allows Gale and her free passage inside. The sight of books, some organized, some in disarray, calms her down from all the excitement.
And then it makes the exhaustion flood back into her body and Gale's lady love is now leaning her whole body against a bookshelf breathing deeply.]
Gale. If I fall asleep against the bookshelf, I hope Rolan won't pay me any mind.
[Shadowheart had been reasonably willing to accept the very vague explanation that Gale had offered her, during which he referenced earlier tales that she had been rather skeptical of at the time— but she seemed to deem it good enough for the time being, as well as the fact that the new structure out beyond the harbor wasn't an immediate danger. That would have to do. She makes an awkward introduction of her own, introvert that she is, and assists in getting all three of them back to the docks before she excuses herself, offering to go fill Jaheira in on the latest happenings so that Gale could focus on his guest.
Gale opts to save sightseeing for another time and leads Amelia through some of the broader, safer streets as they make their way towards Sorcerous Sundries and the tower above it. Rolan is, understandably, quite curious about this new development, despite his potentially off-putting manner, but accepts Gale's explanation that it's all to do with his recent subject of research. They'll have the tower to themselves for a time while Rolan focuses on his own work, though the place is so large that Gale has many times been able to make use of its extensive library without even crossing paths with its new master.
He chuckles softly as Amelia leans against one of the countless bookshelves, folding his arms in front of him as he looks on fondly.]
Take your ease, my heart. We'll not be bothered here, and it's been rather a busy day, crossing planes as you have. You must be thoroughly exhausted.
I only wish I could have left you more, some way to be certain you would find your way here— but it is clear you hardly needed it.
[He steps forward, his arms dropping away from his chest so that he can take her hands in his own as he joins her, his dark gaze softened. It still feels so surreal, even with her hands in his, almost too good to be true— but this was what they had sworn to one another.]
I can still hardly believe—
[He cuts himself off with another soft, incredulous laugh, then takes her face between his hands as he exhales, tipping his head downwards to rest his brow against the top of her own.]
You truly are a wonder. I keep thinking I'll wake and find this all to be some incredible dream, but it's real. You're really here. Gods above, I missed you.
[At last, with the initial shock having eased and here away from prying eyes, he tips his head to gently press his lips to hers, the kiss soft and heartfelt, all the sweeter for all the time they've spent apart.]
[His kiss is gentle, but she returns it with fervor, hands moving to cup his face. The gap created by the months of separation are filled within these few seconds. It had been worth the hours of agonizing over potential failure and the real possibility of another heartbreaking loss because all of those were rendered invalid now.
Amelia is also first to end it to take a breath, but she remains close and exhales with relief and contentedness.]
I missed you too.
[What else could she say? Her efforts have brought her here and that speaks loudly enough.]
I'll admit that I don't think I thought as far ahead as I usually do. Now that I'm here...
[Her voice trails off and she looks him in the eyes with curiosity.]
[His hands drop from her face to rest comfortably against her shoulders; truly, he feels lighter just having her here, the last missing piece having now fallen into place now that he was no longer staring death directly in the eye.]
I suppose I must. I've rid myself of an additional passenger, for one, and as for the orb...
[His smile softens into something bittersweet; he's nothing short of glad to be relieved of it, but he'll not soon forget the lesson it taught him regarding his own hubris.]
I don't feel quite myself again yet, but well on the way.
[The mark itself remains, though largely hidden beneath his robes, with its dark tendrils still faintly trailing up the side of his neck, but the power that had pulsed and roiled within him has certainly quieted. An echo of it yet remains; he had lived with that piece of the Karsite weave within him for so long that it had left traces behind. He could only hope that they would continue to fade with time as he went on to heal, but to say so aloud felt like something akin to greed. That he had lived to see it removed at all— that was miracle enough.
He turns his head into her touch, his lips ghosting against the ball of her thumb.]
In no small part thanks to you, in fact.
[She had eased his aches and pains during their time at the Hotel, helped him to find stability, but she had done far more than that. She served as a reminder of not only who he wished to get back to, but who he himself wanted to be. He might have made a different choice, otherwise— but remembering who he was when he was with her guided him to choose humility, instead.]
A great deal has happened, more than I can tell in a single afternoon, and much of it feels far too heavy to heap upon you when you've come such a long way— but the orb is truly gone, even if it's left me a little worse for wear in its wake. That I can stand here and tell you so for myself... I could ask for nothing better.
[It might have come down to him sacrificing himself of his own accord, not even because his goddess had wished it, if it meant stopping the Netherbrain.]
When I returned here, I was able to learn a great deal more about the orb itself— from a book found in the vaults of this very tower, in fact. If I were still the Gale of Waterdeep of two years past, I might have used what I learned to do something I now realize would have been incredibly foolish, but my time with you... it's done so much to help me in deciding who it is I wish to be.
[Amelia listens to his explanation. Brief as it is, it's more than enough to flood her heart with absolute relief. She swallows and blinks away the mist of incoming tears when Gale declares her part in his decisions.
In the early stages of their tentative, but sincere relationship, the wizard had made it known how much she had meant to him to an almost embarrassing degree. It sounded and felt unbelievable had it not been for the pivotal moment before even that when he revealed the nature of the orb to her.
And though she had grand notions of finding a way to overcome that affliction once they were reunited, it was Gale who had outrun the ticking clock. It was Gale who made sure he did not die while she found her way to him.]
Gale...
[Her hands are shaking without her realizing it as she cups his face lovingly once again. She looks at him, really looks at him and notices the tendrils of the mark that remains. After a few more seconds of stunned silence, she wraps her arms around him again in a fierce hug.]
Tell me everything another day then. Right now, I'm just... I'm so proud of you Gale. I'm so proud and—
[She didn't quite mean to say this next, but it tumbles out of her anyway because it is the most important.]
Thank you for still being here. Thank you for not leaving me.
[Briar had to leave. Had it happened with Gale, the Emerald Witch would be an entirely different creature today.]
[He wraps his arms around her as though it were second nature; even after months apart, there is no denying how right being together feels, and he drops his chin to bury his face against her hair. Her voice is so small in that moment, smaller than he's ever heard it, but he feels emotion rise and catch in his throat as he pulls her against him just a little bit tighter.
She had been alone for so long... he truly could not bear the thought of leaving her to grieve him and find herself alone once more.]
You are more than worth living for— fighting to live for.
[He exhales, pressing a chaste kiss against the top of her head.]
If I have my way, you will never be made to feel alone again.
[They had decided to write their story to come together— their time apart had done nothing to shake his resolve on that front.]
[Of all the decisions Amelia has ever made in her life, Gale has been the one she's never regretted. And moving forward, there will be many more made together.
With all that said and done, she clears her throat and loosens her hold on him.]
As established, there is... A lot to consider and look forward to. But just to be sure, I should sleep another hour or two in order to ensure stabilization.
[Always the practical woman, this one.]
After that... Well, I'm all yours.
[She squeezes his hands. They've talked about this sort of thing idly when they were in the hotel; things they would partake in if they were able to visit each other's worlds, but it was always a fancy of their imaginations until now.]
[He exhales, his expression all warmth and affection as she loosens her hold, and he loosens his own only to take hold of her just beneath both shoulders and give a gentle squeeze of reassurance before she takes his hands a moment later.]
Of course. There's an alcove just past this stretch of shelves with a chaise I've fallen asleep on quite comfortably more than a few times while working— perhaps even a step up from a library sofa, though it was sorely lacking in your company.
[He can't help but make that playful remark, mirth in his gaze, and he gestures towards the next expanse of shelves and beyond.]
You'll not be bothered here. Later, we'll get you set up properly at the Elfsong, where I've been staying while in the city— something of a home away from home.
That'll do then. I won't sleep more than I need to.
[She starts to move to the alcove he's directed her to while still holding his hand. A few steps in and she glances at him again and her gaze softens.]
... Your hair's gotten longer.
[Amelia reaches up with her free hand to run some of his hair strands through her fingers.]
[He reaches up to touch his own hair experimentally, though he's far more focused on how familiar and comforting it is to feel her run her fingers through it— there are countless ways in which he's missed her, more than even he has words for, but it's the little moments between them, the ease and the mundane that he had come to miss the most. He had become quite used to sharing his daily life with her; the absence of that left a hollow ache in its wake. Her own gaze softens and he feels a gentle squeeze in his chest.]
My mind has been decidedly elsewhere, I suppose, looking to move between planes— look at me, utterly hapless without you.
[He jokes, but there's genuine warmth there, as well.]
At this point, I'd not trust anyone else to trim it for me. It's a very good thing you're here; Tara is already on me about the beard as is.
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sunfloras2024-11-22 08:40 pm
because it's witchcraft
Amelia had done everything she could to work up the courage and act on the need she felt in her veins to contact her otherworldly mentor for an endeavor even she, the famed Emerald Witch, could not possibly achieve on her own. On the day that she checked out of the hotel, or rather, woke up and found herself back in Blackgale, there was a crow perched on her kitchen counter as if waiting to welcome her back.
“Tell him I need something.”
The crow flew away to deliver her message after she opened her window. She didn’t give a set time or date to meet. He would pass through and meet with her on his own terms and act on his own fancy. And much to her relief, it did not take much time. It did, however, take a week, enough time for her anxiety to work itself up into a frenzy, doubts to cloud her mind, and her resolve begin to crumble.
If this led nowhere, Amelia would have to accept the possibility of either spending fruitless amounts of years trying to bridge a gap between worlds or never seeing Gale Dekarios again.
But she couldn’t accept that. She wasn’t the same broken woman she was over ten years ago when her first love died and she had no hope for the future. Here there was hope, here there was someone who was still out there waiting for her and worth fighting for using everything she had gained. Amelia had the power, but her Envisioning has yet to propel her to voyage among the vast expanse of stars and beyond.
And so, a week later, the Witch King appeared in her garden, his crimson red hair gleaming in the late afternoon sun, a corruption in the otherwise idyllic and peaceful sanctuary. She ignored the distortion of space around them and how his presence made the sky crackle, the flowers change colors and shapes, how sound and noise twisted around them, and stared at him straight into his ink-black eyes that stared through her.
“Welcome back from vacation! How was it my dear?”
Of course he knew.
She got to her point quickly enough. The Emerald Witch wanted a spell to help her cross to another world or at least acquire a language in magic that could bring her closer to her goal. He listened to her while idly playing with his hair and when she finished, that was when he laughed. The witch bit down on her lip and clenched her fists, but did not lash out, waiting for him to be done.
“You don’t need my help. Well, I joke; I can give you a bit of a push. But honestly, I can tell you’re desperate if you hadn’t looked at what materials you already have at your disposal.”
He pointed to her delicate, golden bracelet around her wrist and she lifted it up to her eyes, dumbfounded. Before she could blink, the Witch King slipped it off and held it between his fingers.
“Oh, a Sending spell? A neat little trick, but it’s not enough for our purposes.”
Before she could protest, he crushed the bracelet in his palm and it emitted several sparks of magic. When he opened up his palm to return it to her, Amelia was relieved to see it was intact, but…
“I just gave it a boost. Nothing much. You figure out the rest on your own. Far be it from me to do everything for you since you’re already irate about asking for me in the first place.”
The Witch King gives a flippant farewell and disappears. The distorted world stills and achieves its equilibrium once again and Amelia is left with Gale’s gift, now throbbing with even more mysterious energy.
It was just a matter of coaxing her house to conjure up just the right door to insert her bracelet into. She failed many, many times. The bracelet simply wouldn’t react to any entrances and forcing it didn’t help.
A month passed. And then two. It became a routine to look down her hallway to see if any new doors appeared and to hold up the bracelet to see there was a change. After month three was when things looked up.
The door was old and beaten, but elaborately decorated. The bracelet thrummed and Amelia quickly tied several strands of her hair around it. The strands diffused into magic and seeped into the enchanted metal. It floated before her, the golden rose and chain expanding in size and glowing brightly until it was metal no more, but pure magical energy that pressed itself into the door.
This was it. If this didn’t work, she would keep going, but god she wanted this to be the one.
Her hand wrapped around the doorknob and she twisted it and pushed it open.
Everything went dark.
In the grand scheme of things a house appearing in the waters off the coast of Baldur’s Gate (way past High Hall and far from the site of the now dead Netherbrain) feels like small potatoes after the great calamity had passed and was conquered. That wasn’t to say it didn’t attract anyone’s notice and someone was certainly going to have to do something about it.
But who?]
it's time at last for the reunion of all time
He had always thought, perhaps foolishly, that when his time came to check out of the hotel, when he had no choice but to return to Faerun to take care of those matters he had left untended, that he would at least have the opportunity to say goodbye, to reiterate that he had a plan. As it stood, he had been granted no such grace: rather than awakening in the room that he had altered to reflect his beloved tower, he found himself on the cold ground and looking up at convex ceiling of his tent, alone, his bedroll doing little to soften the stone beneath him. The bustling sounds of a morning at camp and the smell of the lower city told him precisely where he was.
Baldur's Gate.
His heart sinks. All at once, he recalls precisely what trials he faces here, in addition to what he had left behind. His own promise resonates, the assurance that he would find his way back to the woman he had come to love so deeply— a promise he has absolutely no intention of breaking.
First, he has to live— and for the first time since he had set out on this journey, he wants to.]
[The days following the defeat of the Netherbrain are surreal, to say the least. So much has happened in such a short time that Gale has been able to do little but focus on what's directly ahead of him, but not once has he forgotten his goal, his reason for wanting to make it through— once, he would have been at peace with allowing his death to mean something, but now he has higher goals, greater ambitions, and they do their part to help him pull through to the end. Their victory is hard-won and not without casualties— much of the city has suffered immensely, but it still stands and that is a greater relief than most are willing to admit.
The Crown of Karsus is returned to Mystra, the truth of its nature revealed. She offers forgiveness, or what she would consider to be such, and Gale's answer is no longer what he'd once thought it might be. What he had once thought to be love now rings terribly hollow, and he does not allow himself to be baited by the implication that he might be Chosen of Mystra once more— instead, he will walk a different path, though Mystra will never be able to cease hearing him when he calls upon the Weave. As a wizard, he remains as much in her service as any of his ilk, but as people, they have gone their separate ways.
The orb is removed from his chest, though its mark on him remains. He is still a long way from what had once been his full power, but given room to recover, he now has the opportunity to mend his relationship with the Weave itself, to restore that connection and become his old self again— or, perhaps, a new version of Gale entirely. No longer Gale of Waterdeep, wizard of great renown and scholar of considerable acclaim, but Gale Dekarios— a wizard and dedicated scholar of intentionally moderate renown, intent on dedicating his talents to serving the magical community in new ways.
Days turn into weeks, then months. When he is able, he dedicates his time to planar studies and the potential for traveling between worlds beyond the planar system itself. The potential is certainly there, but no spell has yet been developed, no method defined, and even Elminster has little to offer but encouragement.
"If anyone can manage it, my boy, I believe it would be you. You have always been meant for great things. I am glad to see you have gained the wisdom with which to temper that ambition of yours."
He and a few of his companions remain in Baldur's Gate to assist in rebuilding, in aiding the locals in recovering from all that the Chosen of the Dead Three had put them through, but every spare moment he has, his efforts are tireless. He uses every resource available to him, including spending long days within Ramazith Tower with the permission of its new master. He foregoes sleep more often than he ought, but the goal, he feels, is well worth it.
Whatever it takes, he is determined to find his way.]
[It's Rolan who brings the house out past the harbor to Gale's attention initially, his response being a puzzled furrow of the brow as he pauses in helping himself to a number of Ramazith's tomes to further his research. Though it is raised as an odd curiosity, it is agreed that it ought to be investigated, strange as it is— though the city has certainly seen stranger in recent months. Gale can only hope this might be the harmless kind of strange, but something in his gut tells him that he ought to have a look for himself before the Flaming Fist gets involved.
When he arrives at the harbor, across from the Water Queen's House, it appears that he isn't the only one whose attention had been drawn that way— Shadowheart is there before him, looking out to sea with her arms folded across her chest, frowning thoughtfully.
"Here I was about to go looking for you to see what you might make of this. I can't imagine Umberlee's followers will be content to let it remain undisturbed for long."]
Something tells me that we ought to take a look before they or the Flaming Fist get any ideas.
[The cleric chuffs softly, bracing a hand against her hip.
"I'll accompany you, if you like. I can't say I've ever seen a house like it."]
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Darkness had engulfed her vision the second she opened the door. It was a rush of sensation, magic energies both knowable and foreign crackled around her and all at once shut down Amelia's entire bodily system. No, she wasn't dead; she could register her body going numb and falling onto the floor. What irritated her most was that she was conscious, but not at the same time, aware, but unable to do much about it.
The witch tries not to panic. It was an inconvenience, but in light of what was done, there was an academic explanation to it. If she had successfully opened a door that led to Faerun, the energy required to open it and subsequently transport herself and her entire house would be astoundingly substantial. Regarding her own presence, she is by definition a foreigner and her partial blackout most likely served a purpose in diminishing her presence to make her less threatening to the many internal and external forces of this world. Most of all, her own body needed the rest and readjustment from the sudden travel.
Yes. That's exactly it, thinks the witch self-assuringly.
...
...
In truth, rationalizing helps keep her troubled mind at bay. How long has it been? Will she ever wake up? Did she end up in a location far from where Gale could be or even worse, the wrong world?
An unknowable amount of hours later, she's finally able to open her eyes and sit up. Her head is throbbing, but everything else seems to be in order. The room she's in is concerningly empty, but...]
Is that water...?
[There's one large window gracing her with the view of the outside. It's not her garden or the canopy of trees from Blackgale. Instead, the usual scenery is replaced by an open sky, languid waves, and a mysterious cityscape in the distance.
The witch feels her heart thump against her chest as she stands and stares. Is this it? Did she really make it? But she still feels too weak to move and too cautious to just run out the door without properly assessing the new environment.
With her hand against the walls, Amelia makes her way to her living room where her wind chimes hang from the ceiling.
It was time to send a scout.]
[The mysterious abode isn't just sitting in the water. Its foundation is like a small island, grassy and surrounded by flowers such as poppies, daisies, cosmos, and roses. Other than those, the signs of life were few.
Something does emerge from a window, flapping its glass wings while its metal tubes and attachments tingle and chime beneath it. The glass butterfly makes one flight around the house before moving away and towards the shore. It hovers in the air as if looking for something, someone...
And very soon, it flies towards a certain wizard and half-elf who had been observing from afar.]
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He deploys a Mage Hand to start untying the ropes mooring the fishing boat he and Shadowheart have opted to 'borrow' while the cleric proceeds to loosen those at the back, both adventurers having securely lowered themselves from the docks without managing to draw attention to themselves. Though he doesn't expect trouble, he would prefer that they be able to set out without having to field any unnecessary questions, and in that respect, they seem to be quite fortunate.
They're hardly five meters out from the dock when something flying above them catches his eye; sunlight hits the colored glass as it approaches from the direction of the small island, the hue marking it as distinctly different from the seabirds circling the harbor, and the moment he catches a glimpse of the windchimes hanging from it, his breath catches, his grip against the stern of the boat tightening.
Could it be?
He wants to believe it, even if part of him is cautious of being too hopeful for fear of disappointment— that resonance, the nature of the scout that had been sent forth, the otherworldly design of the dwelling itself. It's enough to tell him that it truly could be, and by the gods, if anyone were going to be clever enough to manage this trick before he did—
He quickly looks back to his companion, his eyes bright with a wild, almost manic quality that Shadowheart has not had occasion to see in him for some time, and she raises an eyebrow coolly in question as he quickly gets to his feet, clearly calculating something in that head of his, the wheels turning rapidly as he sorts himself.]
Stay here— all of a sudden, I have a hunch as to what we might find up ahead. I'm going.
[He speaks quickly, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, and the cleric furrows her brow, even if she trusts his judgment— mostly.
"Are you sure you should be running off alone? If you get yourself killed, at least Karlach and Wyll are going to be very disappointed."
He chuckles warmly, tracing the rune for flight in the air with a few precise flicks of his wrist before he gently pushes off from the boat by propping a boot against one of the planks that serves as a seat.]
If my hunch is correct, it's not a potential enemy we'll find there— quite the opposite!
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Meanwhile, Amelia had weakly laid herself on her sofa, eyes closed and breathing softly. Waiting. And much to her surprise, she didn't need to wait all that long. Her roof rattles and her other windchimes relay the message of the scout like a glorious choir. She bolts upright, eyes widened and her heart thumping against her chest.
Did I do it?
Adrenaline floods her veins and the magic in her hair begins to circulate erratically through every strand, giving her enough energy to stand up and drag herself to the door.
Will he be there on the other side?
One of her worst fears while trying to open a gate was the many obstacles that Gale had to face all while she was worlds away. There was the Orb, the tadpole in his brain, and so many other dangers that Faerun had to throw at him and his party. Yes, he was always more than capable even in his weakened state and yet the most miniscule of doubts remained like a scab in her mind, itching to be scratched so that it could grow and paralyze her even more.
But she didn't get this far only to stop now. The front door opens and she's greeted with a wave of coastal air washing over her face and through her hair. She struggles to regain her balance, but manages, staring at the city in the distance. There are many ships of various sizes and dots of people and other signs of life. And further ahead, she hears her lone windchime echo in the distance near a boat...]
... Gale.
[Amelia takes the first step and stumbles, falling to one knee before pushing herself up.]
Gale...!
[Her voice isn't strong enough yet and neither are her faculties as she almost takes a step on the edge of the makeshift island to tumble into the water. The witch swears and looks down at her feet surrounded by flowers, back at the small figures in the distance and back at her feet again.
She closes her yes and takes a deep breath and then a few steps backwards. She counts to ten. The Emerald Witch lets her magic pulse through her body, steadfast and enticing to the same forces that the wizard of Waterdeep uses towards her. She feels it respond and intertwine with her own being. Her mind clears itself of everything except for a singular image. A path to him.
And then she sprints forward. Earth, grass, and flowers burst to life beneath her feet with smaller ones of emerald green magic sparking with each step she makes across the water.
This wasn't the finish line. This is a new beginning.]
GALE!!
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She had done it. He had toiled for months, intent on finding his way back to her, and for perhaps the first time in his life, he is truly glad to have been shown up— he had never doubted her, not for a moment; his heart had always been equal parts brilliant and stubborn.
He races towards her, water rippling in his wake as his spell breaks the surface tension and he leaves his companion behind, no longer bearing thought for anything but the woman running across the water towards him— that he is still alive to see her again, that they have conquered the divide between worlds to see one another are both miracles in their own right, and nothing matters but reaching her.]
Amelia!
[She calls his name, and he pushes himself forward; nothing else registers and time itself feels suspended. He is near breathless, momentarily lost for words when he reaches her, extending a hand to catch her arm and pull her into a tight embrace, twining his arms around her and burying his face against her hair. His heart beats fit to burst out of his chest before it catches in his throat; he inhales the scent of her for the first time in months and slowly, steadily finds his voice, holding her against his chest as they both hover above the water, and a laugh escapes him, amazed and half-startled.]
I should have known you would be the one to crack it, my heart.
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But Gale doesn't disappear. He extends his hand towards her and pulls her into his arms and her own automatically wraps around him. His warmth envelopes her in a way nothing else, no one else ever could and the witch chokes down a sob that threatens to escape her from all the sheer relief and the overwhelming success of hope that shakes her very foundation.
For once, a miracle didn't go wrong for the Emerald Witch.
She takes a deep and shuddery breath as she finds her voice.]
You're... You're alive.
[Amelia doesn't even care that her words come out raspy or about her lack of composure in her tone. Her hands find their way to his face and she only draws back enough to look into his eyes while her thumb traces his cheek.]
I thought I'd be too late.
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You almost were.
[There's a faint smile as he makes that particular confession, and his hold on her tightens just slightly, as though if he doesn't hold on tightly enough, she'll slip away as suddenly as she'd appeared— something he absolutely cannot risk, and the weight of his gaze as she meets it is broken only by the threat of tears that has begun.]
Then I remembered I had something to fight to live for— a promise to keep. This once, I am overjoyed to have been outdone.
[It didn't matter which of them found the other first, only that they had.]
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Well... [Hold on, she'll reach up catch any tears from her beloved's eyes while holding his face.]
I think you'll be pleased to know you were always going to be my most pressing matter. Home itself isn't in any dire straits compared to... Well, I'm here now anyways.
[The witch glances back and forth and behind Gale, noting that there is a boat with someone witnessing their reunion.]
Should we go back to shore? There's a lot to catch up on and... Oh, god. How long has it been for you?
[Probably not years, thankfully, but it had been at least three months for her.]
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If I weren't holding you right now, I would hardly believe it— even so, it almost feels too good to be true, but—
[She draws his attention to the boat he had left behind; he looks back just in time to see Shadowheart raise a hand to hail them, and he exhales another peal of awed laughter, shaking his head.]
You're quite right. We've much to talk about, and we would be better served by having our feet on dry land. [He turns just enough to gesture broadly towards the docks, his smile blooming wider.] Welcome, my love, to Baldur's Gate— the Sword Coast's 'Halfway to Everywhere.'
hiatus makes the heart grow fonder
[This was Amelia's (awkward) introduction given to Shadowheart once she and Gale released themselves from each other's embrace. As they got on the boat, the earth that sprouted beneath Amelia's feet crumbles behind them automatically, ensuring no curious bystanders or authorities had an easy path to her house. Mechanics and technicalities be damned; it's a miracle she's made it to Baldur's Gate at all and the witch is content with pushing the details aside to focus on Gale and well... Everything else.
Their time at Hotel Caelum has mostly made Amelia immune to the peculiar sight of Shadowheart's appearance and that of the non-human denizens, but it's still challenging to force herself not to stare at various races. More importantly, the city itself was in an obvious state of repair. Besides the businesses going about as usual, the consequences of the warfare that had occurred haven't been completely erased.
Amelia squeezes Gale's hand, endlessly relieved he wasn't part of the damage.
They finally make it to a peculiar tower manned by a gruff looking tiefling who blinks at the witch, but nonetheless allows Gale and her free passage inside. The sight of books, some organized, some in disarray, calms her down from all the excitement.
And then it makes the exhaustion flood back into her body and Gale's lady love is now leaning her whole body against a bookshelf breathing deeply.]
Gale. If I fall asleep against the bookshelf, I hope Rolan won't pay me any mind.
[She's clearly overstimulated, poor old lady]
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Gale opts to save sightseeing for another time and leads Amelia through some of the broader, safer streets as they make their way towards Sorcerous Sundries and the tower above it. Rolan is, understandably, quite curious about this new development, despite his potentially off-putting manner, but accepts Gale's explanation that it's all to do with his recent subject of research. They'll have the tower to themselves for a time while Rolan focuses on his own work, though the place is so large that Gale has many times been able to make use of its extensive library without even crossing paths with its new master.
He chuckles softly as Amelia leans against one of the countless bookshelves, folding his arms in front of him as he looks on fondly.]
Take your ease, my heart. We'll not be bothered here, and it's been rather a busy day, crossing planes as you have. You must be thoroughly exhausted.
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[Her head swivels around to peer at the wizard over her shoulder.]
I can't estimate how long I was knocked out once I found a working door.
[There's a pause and Amelia turns to face him and leans her back against the bookshelf. She's fidgeting her fingers.]
I used the bracelet you gave me. I still had that and the book you gifted me back in the hotel.
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[He steps forward, his arms dropping away from his chest so that he can take her hands in his own as he joins her, his dark gaze softened. It still feels so surreal, even with her hands in his, almost too good to be true— but this was what they had sworn to one another.]
I can still hardly believe—
[He cuts himself off with another soft, incredulous laugh, then takes her face between his hands as he exhales, tipping his head downwards to rest his brow against the top of her own.]
You truly are a wonder. I keep thinking I'll wake and find this all to be some incredible dream, but it's real. You're really here. Gods above, I missed you.
[At last, with the initial shock having eased and here away from prying eyes, he tips his head to gently press his lips to hers, the kiss soft and heartfelt, all the sweeter for all the time they've spent apart.]
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Amelia is also first to end it to take a breath, but she remains close and exhales with relief and contentedness.]
I missed you too.
[What else could she say? Her efforts have brought her here and that speaks loudly enough.]
I'll admit that I don't think I thought as far ahead as I usually do. Now that I'm here...
[Her voice trails off and she looks him in the eyes with curiosity.]
You feel lighter.
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[His hands drop from her face to rest comfortably against her shoulders; truly, he feels lighter just having her here, the last missing piece having now fallen into place now that he was no longer staring death directly in the eye.]
I suppose I must. I've rid myself of an additional passenger, for one, and as for the orb...
[His smile softens into something bittersweet; he's nothing short of glad to be relieved of it, but he'll not soon forget the lesson it taught him regarding his own hubris.]
I don't feel quite myself again yet, but well on the way.
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[Her eyes widen and glance at where the orb's marking should be and then back to Gale's face where she strokes some of his hair away ]
So it's not just my feeling? It's really gone?
[That's another sorrow down. Amelia can't believe either of their fortunes could take so many good right turns.]
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He turns his head into her touch, his lips ghosting against the ball of her thumb.]
In no small part thanks to you, in fact.
[She had eased his aches and pains during their time at the Hotel, helped him to find stability, but she had done far more than that. She served as a reminder of not only who he wished to get back to, but who he himself wanted to be. He might have made a different choice, otherwise— but remembering who he was when he was with her guided him to choose humility, instead.]
A great deal has happened, more than I can tell in a single afternoon, and much of it feels far too heavy to heap upon you when you've come such a long way— but the orb is truly gone, even if it's left me a little worse for wear in its wake. That I can stand here and tell you so for myself... I could ask for nothing better.
[It might have come down to him sacrificing himself of his own accord, not even because his goddess had wished it, if it meant stopping the Netherbrain.]
When I returned here, I was able to learn a great deal more about the orb itself— from a book found in the vaults of this very tower, in fact. If I were still the Gale of Waterdeep of two years past, I might have used what I learned to do something I now realize would have been incredibly foolish, but my time with you... it's done so much to help me in deciding who it is I wish to be.
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In the early stages of their tentative, but sincere relationship, the wizard had made it known how much she had meant to him to an almost embarrassing degree. It sounded and felt unbelievable had it not been for the pivotal moment before even that when he revealed the nature of the orb to her.
And though she had grand notions of finding a way to overcome that affliction once they were reunited, it was Gale who had outrun the ticking clock. It was Gale who made sure he did not die while she found her way to him.]
Gale...
[Her hands are shaking without her realizing it as she cups his face lovingly once again. She looks at him, really looks at him and notices the tendrils of the mark that remains. After a few more seconds of stunned silence, she wraps her arms around him again in a fierce hug.]
Tell me everything another day then. Right now, I'm just... I'm so proud of you Gale. I'm so proud and—
[She didn't quite mean to say this next, but it tumbles out of her anyway because it is the most important.]
Thank you for still being here. Thank you for not leaving me.
[Briar had to leave. Had it happened with Gale, the Emerald Witch would be an entirely different creature today.]
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She had been alone for so long... he truly could not bear the thought of leaving her to grieve him and find herself alone once more.]
You are more than worth living for— fighting to live for.
[He exhales, pressing a chaste kiss against the top of her head.]
If I have my way, you will never be made to feel alone again.
[They had decided to write their story to come together— their time apart had done nothing to shake his resolve on that front.]
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With all that said and done, she clears her throat and loosens her hold on him.]
As established, there is... A lot to consider and look forward to. But just to be sure, I should sleep another hour or two in order to ensure stabilization.
[Always the practical woman, this one.]
After that... Well, I'm all yours.
[She squeezes his hands. They've talked about this sort of thing idly when they were in the hotel; things they would partake in if they were able to visit each other's worlds, but it was always a fancy of their imaginations until now.]
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Of course. There's an alcove just past this stretch of shelves with a chaise I've fallen asleep on quite comfortably more than a few times while working— perhaps even a step up from a library sofa, though it was sorely lacking in your company.
[He can't help but make that playful remark, mirth in his gaze, and he gestures towards the next expanse of shelves and beyond.]
You'll not be bothered here. Later, we'll get you set up properly at the Elfsong, where I've been staying while in the city— something of a home away from home.
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[She starts to move to the alcove he's directed her to while still holding his hand. A few steps in and she glances at him again and her gaze softens.]
... Your hair's gotten longer.
[Amelia reaches up with her free hand to run some of his hair strands through her fingers.]
I've been away for too long.
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[He reaches up to touch his own hair experimentally, though he's far more focused on how familiar and comforting it is to feel her run her fingers through it— there are countless ways in which he's missed her, more than even he has words for, but it's the little moments between them, the ease and the mundane that he had come to miss the most. He had become quite used to sharing his daily life with her; the absence of that left a hollow ache in its wake. Her own gaze softens and he feels a gentle squeeze in his chest.]
My mind has been decidedly elsewhere, I suppose, looking to move between planes— look at me, utterly hapless without you.
[He jokes, but there's genuine warmth there, as well.]
At this point, I'd not trust anyone else to trim it for me. It's a very good thing you're here; Tara is already on me about the beard as is.
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The ends could use some tidying up, but I think it's a good length.
[An actual smile blooms across her features as she brushes some of his hair behind his ear.]
If you looked completely hapless, I'd be on your case too. I didn't cross over to your world for you to look like a mess.
[He'd still be a handsome mess tho, but that's Amelia, holding her compliments close to her chest.]
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