Chapter Text
Gale
Fucking.
Finally.
If the arrogant part of his brain was still functioning, he might jump for joy at his victory and gloat about how he brought his wife to her knees in such a spectacular fashion.
Instead, his mind promptly turned off to her supplication, his goddess’s sacred task.
There is only one thing to do, and is he ever devoted to his service.
In mere seconds, a crisp shimmer echoes in the air as he swats away the chains on her hands and ankles, and hauls her sweaty, shaky body immediately back to his worktable.
No more games.
No more schemes.
So many instruments are at play as the orchestra reaches its climax. The sweepings of papers, the clinks of quills, and the thunders of several books as they hit the floor. The sharp creaks of Réalta’s weight on the desk, and the nonstop, sloppy, fervent kisses and licks on open skin, wherever Gale can see it, can feel it.
And the whole time, his siren’s moans become high-pitched cries. A pure aria of begging, yearning, needing for him to fulfill his marital duty, the perfect duet to his progressively louder groans and the unbuckling of his pants.
‘Tis a good thing that the tower is well warded from the outside world listening to their obscenities, not that he particularly cares at this moment. All of Toril, all the Planes could hear, and it would not stop him from his worship.
“Gale!”
“I have you, I have you-!”
With a yank, he pulls out his cock and presses fiercely to her entrance, no resistance to be found, just a drenched tightness enveloping him, ready to receive him fully.
Heaven has finally opened.
As much as his body wants to lurch forward, his mind reels it back. He still needs to show some restraint, and revel in his hard-won prize. Continuing his kisses and groans on her breasts, he rocks gently back and forth....
Until he feels two strong, trembling legs lock behind his backside, forcing him to a gallop. Réalta does love taking charge.
He guffaws and groans, “Well, aren’t you just being impatient? Can’t wait a moment longer?”
She always tries to compete, even if she has already lost the game.
“No, you don- you-, oh, gods!”
Then again, maybe this is a shared win for the both of them.
He snorted, "No gods, my love, just Gale."
Suddenly, the tingle of nails scrape through his hair to his scalp; the strands tightening into an iron fist. He lets out a high-pitched whine at the painful yet tantalizing sensation as he's dragged to look at his wife.
His wife, with hair tousled, cheeks pink, forehead glistening, eyes passionate, lips blithe. He could write a thousand treatises on how this woman has such power over him with just one look, and yet it wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough.
“Husband, be honest with me.”
His pace slows down to pay attention, hanging onto his goddess’s every word.
“Did I marry a wizard? Or are you actually Dribbles in disguise?”
He harshly laughs, almost stopping completely at the incredulous question.
“Dribbles? Dribbles the Clown!?”
Even with her face flush and chest panting, she is waiting for a serious answer. His eyes widened.
What.
Is.
Wrong with her??
“Seriously?!”
"Well, you both have this knack for terrible puns and jokes, so-Ahh!”
Repeated cries and incomprehensible moans overtake her statement as he picks up the pace again, slamming into her now. Somehow, even ready to fall over the edge, Réalta can tease him so well.
Unacceptable.
He fists her hair now, forcing her ear to his lips, biting the pointed tip raw. Her cries go up an octave at his tongue and teeth, nails moving, digging into his back as she turns her head to show her ear more.
Much better, but it’s not enough. Not until he gets what he needs, what he has been aching for in the past tenday.
He groans now, huskier than ever, “Setting aside my indignation to your ridiculous comparison,”
Another suckle on her ear.
“The proper answer to your question is this…”
A bite to her neck.
“This awful clown-wizard is going to fuck you till he is done…”
A grope to her breasts.
“Till you take every last drop of his seed…”
A kiss to her lips.
“Into that pretty cunt of yours…”
A rub to her swollen clit.
“And bear his awful clown-wizard chi-Gah! Fuck!”
At the pressure of his thumb, she flutters and pulses around him with no mercy, nails scratching into his back, downright screams of his name muffled into his shoulder.
His body responds first, wrapping his arm even tighter around Réalta to pull her flush to him, the other gripping his desk for dear life as he bucks haphazardly, penetrating even deeper to chase the feeling. Paradise is finally in his hands, and he refuses to let it go.
The fog has lifted, the stars are detonating, the lightning is striking the tree...
With a high-pitched cry, he finally releases himself.
There is only the fall now.
Their delirious cries merge at the euphoria slamming into their connected bodies. His thrusting slows and softens as they let the moment wash over them completely, as the tension hovering for far too long finally drains away.
To think, he was considering ascension when a veritable paradise had been on this earth the whole time. He truly was absurd.
Somehow, with the last sparks of whatever sense he has left, he places one more gentle kiss on the top of her head. He would commend her for the fine performance, if he could.
Truly a magnificent finale indeed, worthy of applause.
Réalta
While it might be strange to compare the two events, the next few minutes feel like when she died, except the circumstances leading to this death were much more exciting.
The other difference is she would be more than happy to do it again.
There is only the warmth of Gale's body enveloping her, inside her. The intoxicating mixture of their breaths and sweat as they come down from their respective orgasms. Or shared?
Not like the question really matters right now.
A moment later, a pained, smothered groan vibrates in her neck. At that, she finds the strength to lift her head from his shoulder.
“I'm sorry my love, I hope your knees are okay,” she says.
He plants a kiss on her shoulder in response, a dopey, relaxed smile she hasn’t seen in a tenday lined from rosy cheek to rosy cheek.
“Unlike when we had to sneak around on our adventures, this excursion was well worth it,” he responds.
He follows with another kiss to her lips. “My sweet wife.”
She blinked.
How can she be… sweet?
The fire blazing in her core frosts at the realization.
Her limbs freeze at what just happened.
What they just did.
Breathe in. Hold. Out.
What she just allowed.
Breathe in. Hold. Out.
How can she be so stupid?
Breathe in. Hold.
How can she pass down something she never possessed?
Breathe in. Hold.
How can she do this to her husband?
Breathe
How can she do this to her possible child?
Breathe
How can she do this to the world?
Breathe
How can she be so selfish?
Bre-
Her hands jerkily move on their own, pushing back Gale to an arm's length.
There is no room to breathe.
There is only the nightmare.
“Réalta, what-?”
She needs to go.
She needs to run somewhere.
She needs to be anywhere that isn't the scene of this horrible mistake, of this terrible tragedy of her own doing.
But her legs are too shaky, too weak to do as she commands.
Why is she so weak?
How can she be so weak?
How could she kill Alfira in cold blood?
How could she continue to live with herself after everything she had done?
How many die today?
How many die tomorrow?
How can she guarantee their children won’t suffer the same fate?
Will they pave their path with corpses?
Will they build their castle with bones?
How can she protect them from Bhaal?
How can she?
How?
How?
How?
How-
*Inhale*
*Pause*
*Exhale*
…What?
*Inhale*
*Pause*
*Exhale*
She blinks again.
*Inhale*
Feeling.
*Pause*
Knowing.
*Exhale*
The consistent heartbeat on her fingertips.
*Inhale*
The coarseness of chest hair.
*Pause*
The delicate yet sturdy hand covering her own.
*Exhale*
The whiff of old books and the sea.
*Inhale*
The soft voice.
It’s calling her name.
It’s begging her to come back.
*Pause*
The familiar eyes, full of love.
*Exhale*
Safety.
*Inhale*
She is safe.
*Pause*
How could she ever leave?
*Exhale*
She doesn’t want to run.
Breathe in, Hold, Out
There is only here, with him.
Breathe in, Hold, Out
There is only here, with him.
Gale
Throughout all their time spent together in their adventures, he had only ever seen Réalta’s true terror on three occasions.
The first was when she tried to kill him in his sleep.
The second was when Bhaal took her life.
The third was now. It was such a severe diversion from the unadulterated bliss they had only moments ago.
Why?
How could this be?
What they just did should be something magnificent and pure, instead there are tears pouring down her cheeks, and apologies over and over and over again of all her sins, her faults, her wrongs she committed a lifetime ago that should not, do not apply to her anymore.
Every teardrop from her is another stab to his heart. How it hurts him, how it makes him so, so angry.
If anyone should apologize, more than that really, it’s Bhaal. Even now, he continues to have his death-grip on her.
It is pure evil, plain and simple.
And worst of all, what kills him the most is that he’s helpless. There is no magic up his sleeve that could lift this curse.
Maybe he should re-evaluate being a wizard after all, if he cannot protect what he loves so dearly.
Ever so gently, he picks up his fair maiden and guides her to the velvet fainting couch in the corner. With a flick of his wrist and a whisper, he sets the hearth ablaze for them.
Instead, he can only patiently wait and hold her close. Wait until the storm passes, until the clouds roll their way, and the sun’s rays gleam once more. That is when she will come back to him.
She has never failed to return, and he has no reason to doubt now.