Tea Time with the ladies in Jaheira’s house is a post-BG3 HC I had in my head.

Jaheira, the High-Harper 🌸

Part 2 of 2 Part 1

Yay, I finally finished it🎉

And the answer to the question of whether Ro ever tried to kill Gortash is... no

Having lost people she cared about to the Urge before, Ro mistakenly believed the same thing would eventually happen to Gortash. Because of that, she spent a long time in a constant state of anticipation, waiting for a threat that was never actually there.

I'll explain my interpretation of how the Dark Urge works another time, but the short version is that the Urge only amplifies thoughts and impulses that already exist within Ro -it isn't the one behind the wheel

So Gortash was never actually in any danger.

Mystra is the Weave. She is magic, full stop. This is explicitly stated.

But when Gale held her, kissed her, there was nothing there to touch. Skin more like marble in its flawlessness. Eyes more like crystal in their luminance. She always smelled of sharp rosewater, always tasted of mild sweetness. Never a hint of sweat, of saliva, of any of the unclear oils and bacterias that infest the mortal form.

Somehow, I can't imagine Mystra ever laid with him as a man. Why would she bring herself low, to get in a human's actual bed? What would even be the point, when an ocean of cosmic perfection lay above?

Did it disgust him, then, to travel so high, lay with the very form of Magic, only to return to his meager human body? To be the owner of skin that smelled of sweat, skin that had scars and wrinkles and marks, skin that aged?

When Mystra cast his aside for his folly, did he long for the divine from the confines of his humanity? Did he hate the needs and limits of his body, the various hungers that cried out to be sated, when all his mind craved was that glittering perfection?

Mystra loved Gale's magic. Mystra loved him as a tiny expression of her own self.

Gale is his mind, certainly. His mind is where the magic is. His mind is remarkable. His mind is worthy of love. But this human thing, this temporary human thing that is a body, is not him in the same way. It's needy, and he wants so badly to escape from it into the divine.

And maybe that's what surprises him so much about being loved by a mortal. That someone would lay with him, Gale the man. Would bury their nose into his neck and breathe deeply the scent of him, would kiss the crows feet at his eyes and relish in the taste of his mouth.