#fadeweave

Anders: One moment. I'm almost done with this chapter.

Gale: Now, Anders.

Anders: *ignores him*

Gale: Alright then, I hate that it had to come to this— *takes a deep breath*

Anders: No, no, no. Dont. You. Dare.

Gale: TARA!

Anders: You ass!

Tara: Mr. Dekarios, no need to shout. Tell me, what is all this ruckus about?

Gale: Anders isn't eating dinner.

Anders: I was going to! I was just caught up in reading this book, and I—

Tara, disappointed: Oh, Mr. Anders, that simply won't do! I admire a fellow scholar's thirst for knowledge as much as the next wizard, but you are already as thin as a pole, my dear! You need some meat on those bones. Surely you could spare a minute or two for a tiny morsel, yes?

Anders: ... Yes.

Gale: 😌

Tara: Great! Now that this matter is resolved, you two behave. I must return to sir Astarion's side. We were exchanging stories of our various prey, and he was sharing the most riveting tale about a bear. How exciting!

Anders, waiting until she is out of earshot: I hate you.

Gale, bowl of stew already in hand: No, you don't.

Anders: Can't believe you used Tara against me. That has to be the highest crime imaginable.

Well, I bring good tidings! May I interest you in some humble Gale/Solas nerdery, shenanigans, and eventual *whispers* salacious smut?

Driftwood — Chapter 1: The Tempest

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Baldur's Gate (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition

Relationships: Gale (Baldur's Gate) & Solas (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age) / Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Characters: Solas (Dragon Age), Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Additional Tags: The Fade (Dragon Age), Crossover, Fade Shenanigans, Eventual Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Fade Nerds (Dragon Age), just let me put my videogame boys together, Fadeweave

Words: 3,699

Chapters: 1/6

Summary: That night, Gale finds it hard to fall asleep in the darkness of their plush rooms at the Elfsong. He definitely doesn’t imagine Solas’ hands gently cradling his face, his thumb pressing on Gale’s lip as if asking for entry. Nor his purple eyes resting on Gale, looking at him like a lanceboard problem to be solved. And, least of all, really not at all, does he think about how Solas had mumbled the word Impressive looking not at his spellwork, but right at him.

Gale starts dreaming in the Fade shortly before the events of BG3, and continues over the three months of the whole Netherbrain business. In the strange dream landscape, he runs into none other than Solas, the Dread Wolf, who post-Inquisition walks the Fade.

Gale, amused: Does it rhyme with bat or rat by chance?

Anders: Look, all I'm saying is that we made room for the dog. We made room for the owlbear.

Gale: That, we did.

Anders: Would it be such a stretch to have a cat in camp? Come on! Just one. [Then, in a mumbled voice.] Or two. Maybe even three.

Gale: Anders...

Anders: Gale...

Gale: Is now really the best time to take on that added responsibility?

Anders: Now is the perfect time! You know, I expected this sort of resistance from the others but never from you.

Gale: Hey now, do we really need to go there? Weaponizing my love for a good feline companion against me?

Anders: To think that you once bragged to me about having a cat, but to deny my request for one... *shakes head* The utter betrayal.

Gale: Oh, come now.

Anders: Please?

Gale: Is this really—

Anders: 🥺

Gale: ...

Gale: Alright, fine.

Anders: Yes!

When Anders came to his tent in the middle of the night, Gale didn't know what to expect, but it was most certainly not that.

Gale blinked owlishly at him, his brow furrowed.

"Of course I don't mind," he said, "but may I ask why?"

As he shuffled in his bedroll to make room, Anders hesitated before sliding in next to him. A glow of blue light flashed across his skin, there and gone within the blink of an eye.

Anders sighed.

"You know, since coming here, I have had way more nights without nightmares than with them. As a matter of fact, sometimes I start to think that it feels a little too quiet up there." Tapping his temple, Anders gave a humorless chuckle. And as he studied Gale's features, his face fell. "Tonight, though, I had a nightmare. One unlike those that I'm used to. Frankly, it scared the shit out of me."

Gale raised an eyebrow at that.

"Must have been quite the dream to rattle you."

He hesitated before reaching out, brushing stray hairs back behind his ear.

When Anders shifted closer, leaning into his touch, he reached out to press his hand over the orb.

This time, when blue light spread across his skin, it lingered. His eyes glowed. His voice reverberated, the echoes of a deeper tone lying underneath.

"We dreamt that you went through with it," they told him. "That we lost you, but we don't want to lose you." They swallowed thickly before they could muster up the strength to meet his eyes again, their sorrow thick in the air. "We had to know that you were still alive, that you were still here."

It hit Gale like a magic missile to the face.

Because deep down, never had he expected his presence to have such a monumental impact on another, yet here they were. The mere prospect alone of his death hurt both Justice and Anders to the point where they sought out his company as a reminder that he was still alive.

It—It felt strange. Not to feel needed, but to feel wanted.

Without thinking, Gale drew them into his arms, and they all too eagerly complied. They wrapped around one another, clung to each other, until they drifted off once more.

Gale held them close, combing his fingers through their hair, and whispered, "I'm here."

Anders, at his core, is a good character.

Take a step back from his "defining" moment at the Chantry explosion because it truly doesn't define him as a whole. One major act of desperation (one that was only done in the name of revolution anyways) doesn't erase years of service in terms of his character.

Of course, all of this has been said and done before, but Anders was a healer for years without expectation of any payment. In Lirene's words, he helped deliver people's children, tended their wounds. His influence was so widely felt in Kirkwall that he had Ferelden refugees ready to throw hands for him, all because Hawke started sniffing around for him. He worked in the Mage Underground. He tried peacefully appealing to those in positions of authority for years about mages' rights, putting so much effort into a manifesto that other characters were always quick to dismiss, before taking a violent approach. He became a vessel for Justice, in short, because he was his friend and thought that they could make real change together.

So then, why wouldn't he help those in need in Faerûn? Why wouldn't he save a kid from some harpies? Why wouldn't he help a traumatized bard heal a little through her music? Even though we know he is atrocious at playing the lute. Why wouldn't he step between an arrow and a defenseless prisoner, warning how vengeance could consume a person? A fact that he knows all too well. Why wouldn't he save a girl, even one who stole, from a viper's fangs? Because that is not just punishment. Why wouldn't he help Gale, who chose to confide in him (no matter how vaguely at the moment) about his condition?

Not to say that Anders doesn't have his biases, some prejudices and flaws that would surely carry over, but at his core? He is as good as he knows how to be.

And while I do think he and Gale would have that typical rivalry that Gale has with almost every spellcaster class, if given the chance, every time Gale would stop and tell stories of his past...

I didn't take the smartass options, tempting as that may be, since Anders can also be a humorous character. No, instead, I chose the options where Anders would genuinely listen.

Because Gale lives in a realm where Anders' impossible is possible, a place where mage oppression doesn't exist. Because Gale lived a life, had a childhood, that Anders could have only dreamed of having.

And why do I ship it, personally? In a way different from Hawke/Anders, mind you.

Well, Anders said it best himself.

"Ten years. A hundred years from now. Someone like me will love someone like you, and there will be no templars to tear them apart."

Given all that he had been through, Anders needed time to himself, he tried to reason, but it was a futile effort.

He could only pour over scrolls for so long before he went in search for him.

Not that he had to go far.

Anders was still in camp at least, perched on an outcropping of rock that overlooked the nearby lake.

He waved his hand through the air in intricate patterns, and wisps of light burst forth in an array of colors, forming shapes as he willed it.

Before Gale had a chance to announce his presence, Anders angled his head ever so slightly to the side and spoke.

"Surprised it took you this long to come find me," he greeted.

After a split second of hesitation, Gale stepped forward to join him, taking a seat on the rock beside him as silver moonlight shined down on them from above.

"How did you know I was there?" he asked, watching the first wisp dissipate before Anders crafted another.

"I was what my people called a Grey Warden, remember?" he said as way of explanation. "Always had to be alert in case of a random darkspawn attack." His face scrunched up then, nose wrinkled in disdain. "And it always paid to be vigilant in the Circles."

Gale watched him closely, how he steeled himself at the mere mention of the Circles, how guarded his expression became.

It hurt in a way that he had no words for, to hear what he had suffered in that Thedas of his for simply possessing magic.

It was mind-boggling to Gale, the very notion...

In an attempt to turn both of their minds away to less infuriating subjects, Gale nodded at Anders' light display.

"Having fun?" he asked, glad to see it when Anders cracked a smile.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted in a small whisper. "It's calming, you know, to be able to cast for the sake of doing it. To not have to use my magic for battle for once. To not have to hide it for fear of the Templars or the Chantry.

"Maker, I can't even explain to you how happy I am to finally be able to wear robes out in the open again!" Anders laughed, even as his eyes started to glisten with unshed tears. "It might be strange, having to use a source of power other than the Fade, but..."

He trailed off with a shrug, then looked over at Gale, golden brown eyes drinking in the sight of him from head to toe.

Gale shivered when a nightly breeze trailed over him.

Goosebumps spread over his skin like wildfire.

Smirking, Anders leaned in and whispered, "But I had an excellent teacher."

Gale's heart skipped a beat.

"Is that so?" he breathed.

"Mm-hmm..."

Anders' eyes darted down to Gale's lips, and he sank his teeth into his bottom lip.

Gale swallowed thickly in response.

He couldn't help it. He was drawn in like a moth to a flame.

He leaned in closer as well, so close that he could feel Anders' breath upon his lips.

Their noses brushed. They adjusted the angle, but then uncertainty struck Gale at the most inopportune moment.

He averted his eyes with a bashful grin.

"I, uh, ahem." He cleared his throat. "Are we really about to...?"

"To kiss?"

"Uh-huh."

"I don't know," Anders answered. "Are we? Because I'm certainly not opposed."

"Neither am I," Gale said, perhaps a bit too fast, had it been anyone else, "but you deserve a more romantic display, surely!"

"Heh." Anders chucked and shook his head at him in disbelief. "Gale, what could possibly be more romantic than this? Here I am, embracing my freedom with a smart, handsome man such as yourself and getting swept up in the moment under the night sky. Let me spell it out for you: if there was ever a time for you to make your move, then this is it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, alright. On that note, I must confess," he told him, "that it has been a while since I've been with anyone physically. Turns out, self-imposed isolation isn't exactly conducive to matters of the flesh."

"No matter," Anders said. Reaching out, he grabbed Gale by the fabric of his robes and dragged him forward until their lips were only a hair’s width away. "I have to say it's been a while for me as well. Perhaps this is something we can explore again. Together."

"And Justice?" Gale asked, concerned. "Is he okay with this too?"

"Trust me," Anders said, huffing out a breath of a laugh, "you would know if he had an issue with it. He doesn't." Not now. Not when they had the luxury to focus their attention elsewhere. Not when they didn't have a current cause to consume their days. Anders tightened his grip, pressed himself against him. "Now, kiss me."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Their lips barely brushed when a voice pierced through the darkness.

"Mr. Dekarios!" Tara called out. "Mr. Dekarios! Where are y— Oh, there you are! And Mr. Anders, too. How delightful!"

They jumped apart, wide-eyed with shock, when their resident tressym made an appearance.

Their faces instantly flooded with warmth, neither of them quite able to meet each other's eyes.

Tara sat down a few feet away, staring at them intently.

"Mr. Dekarios! The gravest emergency has occurred, and I need your immediate assistance." It was then that she sensed the tension between the two, her ears perking up. "Wait! I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"

"No!" they both answered, but Tara was far from dumb.

"Oh, my! I was, wasn't I? Well, by all means, don't let me interrupt," she said, yet she made no move to leave, watching them as her wings fluttered.

Gale grimaced.

Anders had to slap a hand over his mouth to muffle his giggles, ignoring Gale's glare while he got to his feet.

"Why, Lady Tara, our conversation can surely wait in the face of what sounds like a dire circumstance," Anders said, bowing lightly to her. "May I?"

She tilted her head up and said, "You may."

Anders gathered her into his arms.

"What a gentleman!" she praised as he pet her. "Isn't he such a darling, Mr. Dekarios?"

"Yes, Tara, he is," Gale said, following their lead as he stood up with a groan. "Now, what is this emergency you spoke of?"

"Ah, yes!" She ruffled her feathers. "Sir Astarion left at the most inopportune time to go hunting. Usually, he is up for such a task, but my feathers need preening and my fur needs brushing before I head to bed. It is a task of the utmost importance, you understand."

"But of course," Anders readily agreed. "Let's see to that at once, shall we?"

"Leave it to you to encourage her," Gale sighed.

"Try not to get jealous," Anders teased, leading the way to his tent. "I'll make sure to spare some time for you later. We still have much to discuss, after all."