The fingers at her back slow, then stop, but she feels them pressed against her skin still, expectant as a held breath. “Ahem. Perhaps it would be best if you clarified?” Rook sighs, but with exasperated affection. Emmrich’s bashful gentility is a large part of the appeal. She’s always imagined she would have to drag him kicking and screaming - or at least gently protesting - into bed. “It’s making me wish you would touch me… everywhere.” “Ah.” Then, as if the words have just sunk in: “Ah!”

Gale is a divination wizard, but a mere shadow of his former glory. Aoife is an Oath of the Ancients paladin, haunted by the grief of her past. After a fateful meeting a year ago Aoife's path crosses the Wizard of Waterdeep's once more. But as they are drawn together Gale's misfortune with the orb and Aoife's long-held sorrow aren't the only dark shadows cast upon them by the past. And soon their fates become as entangled as the threads of the Weave.

Gale is a research librarian in a small college town, dealing with an unfulfilling job and a wretched break-up. One day his cat Tara gets stuck up a tree, and in a moment of panic he calls the local fire department. When Aoife arrives on the scene she thinks this is an absurd use of a critical resource, and that the soft intellectual should learn to keep better track of his cat - or at least learn how to climb a goddamn tree. But like two celestial bodies in orbit, Gale and Aoife find themselves indescribably drawn to one another. And when there is a fire in Gale’s library and Aoife comes to his rescue the spark of interest catches to become a brighter flame.

“Gods forbid I offend Mystra.” Nyx sets the viol aside and looks up at Gale. “She might blow us all up where we stand. Oh, wait - that’s already on her divine agenda.” He sighs heavily. “I’m finding myself dangerously close to it myself after engaging in this conversation.” “Oh,” says Nyx, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. Her lips part, and he sees a flash of hungry curiosity in her eyes. “Do you erupt so easily?” The sound of her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth, sucking and wet. “Disappointing.”

“How would we kiss?" asks Rook, and there is something jagged in her tone that he longs to smooth. "Hold hands? Make love?” Emmrich is silent, for there is no answer that will truly satisfy her here. “Or had you not even thought about that?” “Of course I’ve given it -” “Would you even love me anymore? Would you even be capable of it?” Her voice is fracturing now, spilling apart like the rippling waves fracturing the surface of the pool. “I don’t have all the answers, darling. I’m truly sorry.” He takes her hand again and threads his fingers through hers. “I trust that our bond will hold, but in the end it must be a leap of faith. One that I hoped to make with you by my side.” --- After a whirlwind romance Emmrich ends things with Rook, fearing that their differences are irreconcilable, their dreams incompatible. Unfortunately, they are both still desperately in love.