#galelind

How he always laughed at the same parts, chiming in boisterously to recollect just how much cheese they had offerred the old chosen of Mystra, it made Merelind's cheeks ache with her polite if fake smile.

"The night is young, Gale, but I am almost three centuries old. Or have your forgotten?" She fired back under her breath before offering a demure, "Excuse me, Mama," to her mother in law. Then she hastily left the sitting room for the table of drinks yet one room over.

Quiet. Finally. Merelind grabbed a bottle roughly from the bucket of ice and settled herself in a chair at the set dining table.

Everything was glittering and shinning, a veritable feasting table of golds and greens and reds for the Yuletide season. "Hells, fuck," she cursed to the empty room, easing her laces of her bodice where her dress dug into her breasts. The laughter from the other room annoyed her, Gale's guffaw the loudest among the chittering.

She rolled her eyes. And then she drank deeply. In her home, in her arms, he was smooth and sensual, daring and bold and just a little controlling. Merelind loved it. But then, the second they were under the inestimable Morena Dekarios' roof? She could be naked and dancing for him to no effect of drawing his attention.

She huffed, blowing her bangs from her face. Tonight, she wanted that to change. That man thought with his cock just as much as with his brilliant brain, and he was her husband… Not this dolt who laughed on time with his mother's repetitive jokes. Morena was nice enough, kind and supportive, if a little bit… or a lot a bit… overbearing of her son.

Another drink right from the bottle neck of her champagne and she smirked. The way to his heart was one path. Straight and hard and thick.

The voices from the room over grew louder, speaking of the dinner that was about to take place. Morena praising again Gale's Hondur sauce, obviously a thousand times better than Hondur himself…

Enough. Merelind slid under the table, her whole body fitting nicely under its wide and covered top, white linen draping around the whole deal.

Now she was the predator, and her meal was about to sit at his mother's right hand.

Just in time, she pulled the chair back into place. Under the white linen of the table, she could see polished shoes and heels approaching. A polite little, "Here, Mother," and Gale's shined loafers drew to a stop beside the head of the table. The chair was pulled out, Morena's voluminous black skirts were seated with aplomb and properly first.

Then… just in front of where she crouched on the carpet, ready to spring, Gale settled just beside his mother. The seat beside him empty of course. It was supposed to hold a hungry Bhaalspawn and hero of the Gate, but the lesser influential Mrs. Dekarios was busy now.

Her own appetites and urges needed attention. Their voices were barely audible above the table, muffled by the cloth and drowned in the chatter of Morena's other friends and family.

She could make out her name… and Gale's reply to his mother. "Oh, I'm sure Merelind is merely out for a breath of air. Given her own nature, respite from such events does her good."

"I'll show you what does me better," she laughed to herself, rasped under her breath as she waited a moment. Then she pressed a hand to the inside of his knee.

The droning of his voice broke for a moment, only to have his mother's pick up and continue whatever boring topic was of his mother's design.

Merelind didn't hesitate, using her hand to push his legs apart a little, raking her nails over his pants. A move she'd done to claim her intent on his cock a thousand times.

His thighs tensed under her touch, a tan hand sliding from his knee to seek her face. Those magic fingers brushed their touch over her cheek, cupping her jaw and thumbing down on her bottoms lip.

Oh… yes. He did want to play. The good little boy act was cracking. The warmth of her gentle and dominant husband was seeping through.

All according to plan.

A little kiss to his palm, and she eased herself forward. Her skirts were crushed as she knelt under the table, but the sight of his cock straining in the dark purple fabric of his trousers was more than worth it.

"Haven't even touched you, and I can smell you leaking," she taunted. Her ears twitched, the voices at the table were surely too loud for him to hear. But that was adding to the thrill. She could run her dirty mouth an arms reach away from his mother and go unheard.

Perfect.

She pushed the fabric of the table cloth up, fingers finding and unlatching the buttons of his trousers. Just a little opening for the fabric of his briefs to peer through.

Delicious.

She leaned in to kiss his cock over that warm cloth, a hint of wet already there from the poor wizard.

This close to the table's edge, her pointy ears could glean more of the conversation, her name included.

"Are you not worried for your wife, Gale? Seems a terrible time to vanish into thin air, right at the commencement of dinner…" Morena's warbling voice almost put out Merelind's lust.

But not quite. She pursed her lips and sucked on his cock head through the fabric, tasting more fully his precum.

Much to Gale's delight and torture. "Hah, umm… well you know, her tastes do run more demanding… eclectic, one might say…" he did his best to keep a shiver out of his tone as her hands reached to free the object of her eclectic hunger.

"I suppose," Morena commented with a dry suck of her teeth. "Bhaalspawn, even former ones, must have urges yet."

"Yessomethinglikethat…" Gale huffed in one strident breath, warmth and wetness sucking around his sex at last. His hand flew to his chin, head turning as if he were looking for her, getting lost in the conversation at the table around him.

And by Elminster's frizzy beard, was he thankful that the company his mother kept was chatty and loud.

The hand at his mouth fisted over his parted lips, muffling his breaths as his wife's perfect mouth wrapped around his cock and sucked. He could feel her laughter as his mother called his name once more.

"Gale? Bread pudding, my heart? You know I make it just for you."

Gale huffed a laugh, steadying his hands to reach for the tray offered his direction. "Yes, perfect. Here's hoping there are leftovers if I have any suck…" he winced as his wife scored her nails down his inner thigh, taking him to the back of her throat and swallowing. "I-I-I mean… luck. Any luck," he let out a laugh, but to convince him or his mother that he was having politely good time, he wasn't sure.

Gale cleared his throat even as he shifted forward in his seat. He could feel his wife's dexterous and potentially sinful digits sliding under him, stroking that sweet span behind his balls. It made him fist his hand on the table, his eyes closing if only to keep his mouth from opening in a whine.

She was merciless when she was bored. Gale cursed himself, he should have known better than to let his mother prattle on and on about his childhood prowess.

Then that same maternal tone called his name again. "Gale, sweet Mage, is the turkey not sitting well with you? Why, you've hardly touched your plate."

Suddenly his cock was shoved deep in that throat, and Gale felt tears in his eyes from the need to move.

He was trapped deliciously at the mercy of his wife. Bhaalspawn as she was, she was certainly murdeing him in public. He exhaled softly and schooled his face into that controlled smile. It took every ounce of his concentration to ignore the sliding of her digit towards his asshole as he leaned back in the chair. "Oh no matter, Mother. You know I think I filled up too much on your delicious appetizers. You know… it would… finger… Imeanfigure… that your cooking was too delicious to resist.. hah…"

Gale groaned, hiding the noise in his wine glass, sucking loudly on the drink to hide the noises he was starting to hear right in his crotch under the table.

Merelind grinned, swallowing around him, feasting on his sex better than Morena's horribly over seasoned cooking. Gods, and that turkey, drier than a drained carcass, she wouldn't wish it on her foes. No, this was far, far better. Every twitch of his cock against her tongue, every drip of precome only made her hungrier. She bobbed faster, mouth and tongue devouring him. Her sucks were loud, easily covered by the din of conversation.

He was close. So close, she knew the signs of his pleasure and release better than her own. She smiled around his flushed and leaking girth when something brushed her skirt.

Merelind's mismatched eyes opened when she recognized even that lone huff of disapproval.

"Mrs. Dekarios. Was there not enough sausage on the table for your liking?"

Tara.

'Shit.'

Merelind didn't take the cock from her mouth as she turned slightly to look at their tressym. Poor Tara had accidentally endured enough of their marital festivities in the first months of their marriage.

"As usual," Tara clipped in reply, somehow arching a feline eyebrow, "I'll leave you two to your antics, but given the need for discretion, I expect extra Beholder jerky in my gift this Yuletide." Her tail swished, and Merelind managed a nod before returning to swallowing her husband whole.

The voice grew louder as the food was shared, the drinks flowed, and people imbibed greater. But Merelind only wanted to taste one delicacy on her tongue. And by the way his cock stiffened and jerked as she slurped and moved her head faster, she was about to.

Those magic fingers so good at casting spells and working the Weave came into her hair, pulling her into him with shaky desperation.

She could feel it, the way his hips wriggled on the seat as if it took every bit of his Archmage strength to keep from thrusting into her lips. He was there… right on the edge… when she heard the telltale chink of silverware on a crystal glass. The room quieted, his hand gripped into her hair hard and painful… but Merelind didn't stop.

A laugh in her throat and she took him all the way deep into the tight recess of her throat.

The noise that came from Gale in the quiet hush of the dining room could have made her come undone herself, but her own body was too busy fighting off laughter herself.

"Gale," his mother said with marked disapproval. And Gale winced despite the pleasure that warmed and loosened his muscles, even his tongue.

"Yes, Mother?" He fought not to slur his words. "I fear I am… a little out of sorts. Even still shall I give the toast? Or would you care to… mother, as matron of the mouth I MEAN HOUSE!"

Morena gave a polite smile, her gaze exacting. "Why don't you stay seated… Gale."

It wasn't a suggestion. And it was one Gale was all too happy to take regardless, even as his wife licked up the last spurts of his spend.

Truth be told, his brain made neither head nor tail of his mother's words. The toast came and went, and before he knew it, his cock was soft and still inside Merelind's warm mouth, and his glass of champagne was down his throat. It helped warm what would have been embarrassment at being dressed down by his mother, the inestimable Morena.

But, Gale smiled, now it was his wife's job to do the… dressing down. It made him laugh, his hand pawing gently in her soft waves of hair until she released her mouth, hands deftly putting his sex back in his pants

A little kiss to his clothed cock and she was gone.

All that remained was the telltale clinking of her necklaces and earrings, that soft swish of her silk skirts as she pulled herself out from the table under Invisibility.

Moments later, Merelind came up behind him, the toast long over and the conversation back in full swing. "Forgive me, Mother," she said, leaning around Gale to kiss his cheek. "Something didn't agree with me, I fear. Nothing a little swallow of fornification couldn't fix."

"Ahah! My love!" Gale instantly chimed in. "You mean forTIfication."

Merelind went quiet, kissing Gale on the cheek and then sitting at her place beside him.

She made no correction. Only a feline smirk on her lips as she quietly sat through dinner, her hand on Gale's thigh.

"You're awfully quiet this evening, my love," Gale whispered after a moment of him assuring his mother all was well.

Merelind turned and offered him an opened lipped kiss, letting him taste his spend on her tongue. "You know what they say," she murmured her reply, "it's rude to talk with one's mouth full."

Her gaze turned icy. Her jaw ticked. She whipped around to turn her back on him, searing rage simmering off her small, elven form. Anger and… hurt, both flickered in her eyes.

A warm red hand landed on his shoulder. "Come on, Soldier, give her some space, yeah?" Karlach spoke softly, pulling Gale towards the door. She could easily throw him over her shoulder without breaking a sweat, but this was far kinder. The metal door clanged shut behind them, and Astarion huffed his annoyance. "Cast out like yesterday's scraps, least we look delicious." He preened, pulling out his hairbrush to fix his silver curls.

But Gale only fumed inwardly, leaning against the wall to the balcony of the brothel. He moved his hand, practicing his most lethal spells without casting them. How he would like to Disintegrate that devil in reality.

Nothing a stop at his House of Hope wouldn't afford. It made him smile, his new ambition set on making the devil pay. Eventually.

"A pleasure," that smarmy silken baritone bid as the door opened once more to let their elven Bhaalspawn leader out.

The instant the door clanged shut, Gale descended on her. His brows furrowe into deep ridges. "Did you do it, Merelind. Did you sign away the Crown and our chance at future, at having what we have deserved all along at the tips of our fingers so that sulfur-reeking Buffoon can play dress up?"

Merelind just held his stare, still not speaking. She pushed past him to walk on down the stairs of the brothel and our into the street. Gale called after her. And once they reached the turns towards the camp, she felt a hand grab her from behind. "That's it, is it. Just like that?" Gale mimicked the dramatic flourish to snap his fingers as the Devil they had the misfortune of knowing did, right in their faces.

Merelind returned his annoyance and simmering anger with ice in her eyes and an unmoving frown.

"A simple yes or no would suffice, Merelind," he growled. And his tone even drew Karlach and Astarion to freeze in the middle of the dirt path. "Giving the Crown of Karsus to the devil to prevent our loses? You are many things, Merelind, but never that… naive."

"Did Gale just call her stupid?" Karlach whispered to the vampire, who had sense enough to yank her up towards camp.

"Did he?" Merelind snapped at him. "Insult to the injury of mistrust it seems." She huffed and pushed brusquely past Gale to follow towards camp.

But those magic fingers encircled her wrist, his voice a hiss in her ear. "Come now, we must discuss this later, Beloved."

Her own fingers clutched at his wrist and she dragged him the opposite direction towards the bluff down to the Chionthar. "No mistake, Wizard. We discuss this now."

They tumbled down the steep slope, both losing their footing to land unceremoniously in the sand and tall grass. Merelind lifted her head. "Gale? Are you okay?" She asked a little breathless

"Yes, just the knees, as you know…" he offered a small smile even as his anger was momentarily forgotten.

"Good," Merelind barked, her rage not far from her mind and she pounced on him, pinning him face down into the sand. "Your precious knees are no excuse, Gale. How could you have such little confidence in me, after everything?"She leaned down, legs spread on his back, hands on his wrists, and mouth right against his ear to hiss at him.

His wiry body should have flipped her on her back, but her small elven body pressed in all the right places to keep him crushed into the sand. "You… you gave the Crown away for some inconsequential fools hope to free the gith prince. How could you even consider it?" His anger had recapitulated full force. If only he could move his hands, he'd cast something, not sure what, but she'd be sorry, his lover.

She'd be on her back for him.

"Ah there it is, your smug rage." Merelind laughed darkly. "Don't hold back, Wizard. You were livid I didn't let you take control with the devil. Well, now I'm in control. And you're mine." She hissed, conjuring a pair of Mage Hands to come and replace her own on Gale's hands. "You love it, don't you, being in control of me, no matter how gentle or attentive it is. You give the orders, you call the commands." She pressed her lips right to his ear, where that blasted emblem of Mystra hung on him yet. She took it in her teeth and tugged it. "My turn, my Wizard. You give me power this time, and I'll show you you have no reason to place your trust, your faith in another."

She could feel him shudder under her, even as her lips pressed a tender kiss to his neck where the lines of his Orb yet wound.

"Merelind, I—"

She shushed him, silencing his words with a kiss. "None of that. It's my turn to direct you, and you're going to hold very still and keep very quiet out here in the open where anyone might take an evening stroll by the beach." He laughter was still deep and dangerous. The Bhaalspawn with the urge to tame. "And won't they be surprised to see your ass out and marked up by my hand and teeth…"

"Merelind," this time her name came out not in protest but in a deep, needy whine.

Her hands pushed up the hem of his robe, then tugged down the waistband of his trousers. A perfect unmarked canvas before her, she settled on his legs to pin those. "Six should do. Six spanks to redden the full globes of your ass, unless you want me to stop…" She let the offer linger in the air but he just shook his head into the sand.

"No, no, I want you to try your best to teach the greatest prodigy of Waterdeep a lesson he has yet to master," he groans. Teasing? Maybe. But still so haughty and arrogant.

But not for long.

Merelind hissed at his taunting, leaning down to bite the thick swell of his right cheek hard. Gale yelped long and loud, making his elven lover only laugh softly. "I'm not going to go easy on you, just your knees, Wizard." A wicked thing, a ring of sadism in it, her laughter tickled against the skin of his backside as she dragged her mouth to the other side, sinking her teeth into that tanned swell too.

He groaned, his face half in the sand. "Well then, I guess you'll take careful note of how I can count to six, beloved."

"Hope you can count quickly," she sneered, her lip lifted in dulled rage yet. Her small but deadly hands lifted and smacked each of his cheeks in quick succession. The tanned skin of his backside reddened in red patches, and her Wizard huffed through his nose. "So quiet, Gale?" she chuckled. "Has your practiced tongue fallen asleep on me? Tut, that's not like you one bit. Eager man…"

Her laughter rang low in her ribs as she slid from his legs, crawling to let her lips kiss his sandy cheek. "My love, do you trust me to make you feel good now? Especially since I've made you sting in a similar manner to how you made my very innermost heart that's yours, Gale Dekarios, sting?" She hissed, trying hard to sound enraged and not… sad. Wounded. The Mage Hands at his wrists worked to turn him over under her, his tall human form caged under her lithe body.

"My love, I'm sorry," he murmured, even as her hands brushed the sand from his face. Two fingers rested on his still slightly sandy lips.

"Sh, hush, Wizard. Quiet your tongue. You'll use it soon enough," Merelind murmured, her red and blue mismatched eyes scanning him as they brimmed with the immense wash of feeling. Anger, hurt started to give way to forgiveness, but it was still yet a far cry from trust to rekindle.

Leaning over him, she pressed her lips to his, hands sliding to drag his already dangerously low hanging trousers down. The effects of her attentions clear in the dying light; His cock twitched and leaked from her lesson. "Seems someone enjoyed their discipline, naughty Wizard. Learning your lesson less reluctantly than you intended, it seems?"

With a firm grip, she ran her hand on his cock, warm and velvety and hard as he always was for her. The slightest provocation and he was… ready and willing. That made Merelind smirk. She pulled back, staring right into his face. "You know something, Gale? I didn't sign." There, she told him. Despite his raging arrogance and flagrant lack of trust, she had upheld her lover's interests.

"Merelind, really?" He gasped as she pumped him, as her confession stoked his guilt more than her hand did his sex. "I… I am sorry."

"Not as much as I am that you truly thought I would side with the devil over the man I love."

Gale's eyes widened, wide brown eyes taking in the wounds his words had caused, invisible ones his Bard could not heal with her own magic. Only he could. "I am listening, my love," he cooed up at her, tugging at the Mage Hands still keeping him bound and stretched. "I am here now, not later, beloved."

"I don't want words," her freckled face scrunched up in pain. "I don't want apologies from your tongue. I want your tongue on mine, our hips slapping hard, and the sound of your voice moaning from how much you love me. How much you do trust me with your life and your heart." Her lips murmured her desires, her confession as her hands pulled off her leather jacket and boots and pants until it was just her. And him.

Tanned skin and freckled. Brown eyes and mismatched. Pointy ears and rounded human ones. So different, and yet their aches of hurt and their waves of desires burned the same.

"Gale," she murmured, holding his cock as she guided him inside her. With a small roll of her hips, she let him settle fully inside her, her hands reaching for his now without Mage Hands to hold him punishingly. Fingers woven, she straddled his hips, holding completely still. One more test of his trust in her.

The tight warmth made him gasp. His voice that could recite demise for their foes now broke in bliss inside her. "P-Please, my love," he croaked, as if it were his throat that were sandy. "I need you."

"More than any crown? More than any twisted piece of ancient metal, no matter how powerful?" She spoke in cold tones, the pain yet tearing at her from the inside as her bright eyes bored into his. The smallest shift of her hips on his dragged his cock through her warm wet, just a tease of what she would give him.

"Yes! Yes, Merelind," Gale interjected, even as he felt the muscles inside her pulsing around his cock. "I'd rather wear you on my cock and bear you in my heart more than a crown worn on my head and it's power born in my body. Now, please," he begged, warmed voice going shrill in his desperate confession.

"Then put your trust in me and not just your cock," Merelind hissed, an indignant smirk on her lips as she started to ride him. She set a damanding pace. The sand softened the way their bodies slammed together, but for as worked up as she was, Merelind showed no mercy as she slapped down on him. Hard and fast. Her hands fisted into the soft and worn fabric of his robe. "Say it." She snapped. "You know the words to recite. Those magic words, oh Wizard, that might get you out of this bind."

Her red and blue eyes glinted in the fading light, watching as he had to bring a hand over his mouth to keep from making noises too debauched. Gale spoke in barely a pressed whisper. "I'm sorry, Merelind. I said I was sorry."

"Tch." She just sucked her teeth and keep on riding him, not caring if he grew overstimulated too quickly. "Incorrect. Give me your hand." She ordered, and Gale obeyed. She kissed his long, bare digits and then pressed them to her clit, making him touch her even as she bucked wildly on his waist. "Don't be weak, Gale. Touch me like you mean it," she snarled.

In her heart, she cried, Touch me like I mean something to you…

Closing her eyes, she felt the heat of her rage settle in her lower belly, the friction of how she stretched on his thickness made her whine as she leaned forward. And that new, more diligent press of his fingers on her clit called lighting to chain its way up her spine.

"I'm coming, but don't you fucking dare to, Gale. Not yet. Not until I see you trust me," she gave it all as feral snarl.

Face scrunched up, he pressed into that slick apex of her sex. "I won't, not until you say," he groaned loudly as he felt the waves of her climax pulsing under his fingers and around his cock, more powerful than any magic he could pull from the blessed Weave. "I t-trust you to take care of me… even if it is later, beloved."

Those words worked a magic in her, her orgasm tore through her at his submission, at his admission of profound trust. Nothing between them at last. Her freckled body grinding harder, fucking down on him through her own peak to drive them both towards another. One of shared ecstasy and trust.

"Yes, yes, my love, Gale, come with me," her voice huffed down at him in broken pants. Her hand took hers from her sex, winding and weaving their fingers together. And finally, she granted him a chance to taste her love and mercy. Kissing him, she bucked on his length, feeling him rolling up into her, his hand coming to rest on her hip. As equals. As lovers. "Your heart is mine. Your ambitions are mine," she growled now not in anger but pure and unfettered love. And that was twice over all the more passionate. "You… you are mine, Gale of Waterdeep."

The noises that ripped from his throat echoed into the night. The sparks of light in his darks eyes from the heavens above them put the stars to shame as she felt his cock ram deep inside her. Hot, sticky slick, he filled her, even as Merelind rode through the wet heat that burst in her core. "Yours," Gale moaned in deep dulcet tones as he watched her face twist in bliss.

"Mine," Merelind repeated, even as her voice broke in a cry from her pleasure. Her body swayed as she came to a grinding halt on his cock. Both spent and both lovestruck under the tapestry of night above them. Her hand came to rest on his cheek, thumbing over the purpled lines that ran to his Orb. Her heart ached, a vow then and there to do anything it took to free him from it or help him dominate the magic inside it.

Nothing would keep her from her wizard. No devil. No crown. No orb. No false god or vengeful goddess. Merelind exhaled hard before leaning down to kiss those plush panting lips and practiced tongue. "We should most likely head back to camp before everything thinks I had the urge to kill you… again." She laughs, unable to sit up, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, and sex to sex still.

"Later, beloved Merelind. You are the very image of beauty like this," Gale murmured, his own hand coming to cradle her freckled cheek. "Red eyed for your passion and well-warranted ire, blue for the purity of your love, deep like the skies above." He mused as he trembled yet from his bliss. "Stay a moment," he murmured. "I want to remain a moment, basking in your forgiveness," a huff of a laugh broke his sentence, "especially after making an ass of myself."

Foggy and damp, the glowing of lanterns and carved pumpkins illumined the streets of the city in eerie flickers.

Merelind clung harder to Gale's arm, shivering. "Much further, my love?" She asked, a little out of breath, more than usual.

She hoped her Wizard didn't notice.

But Gale was far too festive, his step keeping them propelling along the winding streets past other revelers in costumes and masks. "None too far, my rose. We are just now passing the Selûnite Temple."

Merelind noted the scents of incense in the air and the muted songs of prayers and hums from the glowing windows. Good. Not much further.

Her body was aching, and rightly so. Her hand moved to adjust the mask on her face. Her eyes were rimmed extra black, making them a little extra striking, orbs of blue and red in the night sky.

"Your first Liar's Night as a Waterdhavian, Merelind. Aren't you ecstatic?" Gale began to droll as they kept walking into crowds of costumed citizens. "Watch your pockets, my love. Tonight is a night for mischief, tricks, pranks and the like." Arm snugly around hers, he guided his new wife towards the throng of people in the town center, all flowing towards the massive building of the Council Chambers ahead. Its large windows illuminated the square, so bright, even the fog seemed to obey and scatter.

But Merelind's face remained in a pained expression. "Certainly…. festive? Is festive the right word?" She couldn't help the sharp edge to her tone. "Masks and costumes are certainly a lot to behold. But the pumpkins?"

Gale raised a finger. "Ah yes! The pumpkins! An autumn symbol for us, the outer deception of a costume, the inner light of our true identity…"

"A night for tricks?" Merelind's sharp and cold annoyance rivaled the chilling fog.

"Or treats, depending on how well one behaves," Gale's voice lowered, rumbling and velvety, his own black and rose covered mask pressed against her ear as he did.

"Not now, Gale," Merelind huffed. "I'm not in the mood for playing the good girl." She shivered hard until they drew up to the glowing venue. Costumed guests lined the mirror and gold gilted halls and rooms. And Merelind's eyes went wide at the sea of people. "Oh… fuck."

Gale must not have heard her, or he was a bit put out by her flat out denial of his flirtation. He led them inside, heading right for the refreshments. Bowls of punch and mugs of steaming cider covered the table. But the wizard reached for two flutes of champagne. "If you won't allow me to demonstrate with carnal pursuits why this night is festive, at least allow me a toast?"

He held the alcohol out for his wife.

Merelind gave a practiced smile. Forced but she hoped he didn't notice. Instead her hand reached for a mug of cider, lifting it to her nose to sniff. "Allow me to toast with something warmer than champagne after that slog of a walk." The copper mug shined in the candlelight. "To…?" She prompted him.

"To Liars!" He teased, a great big grin on his beared chin.

"Quite the toast from the once Hero of Baldur's Gate, no?" She licked her lips before sipping the hot cider. Gale drank one flute, setting the other back down.

"Is it? Why, given my taste in powerful, deadly brides who smell divine after slaying a thousand enemies, I thought you of all people would know how I do enjoy the darker, more dangerous side of life?" Those brown eyes did not waver from her face, watching how her blood red lips pursed to blow on her hot drink with a hunger Merelind knew.

Shame he'd have to wait.

"You're cute Gale, and I do recall your… propensity for my body once said dangers were eliminated." Merelind's laugh was soft, her head turning to scan the crowd.

Gale's fingers softly pressed under her chin, turning those red and blue eyes back upon him. "Are you alright? Just say the word if you need me." His voice was laced with concern, his warm brown eyes scanning her up and down.

"Hmm? Oh yes. Never better, ha…" she huffed, her eyes flicking around the crowd yet, so many papered faces and voices, it made her uneasy.

"Hmm, not lying are you?" Gale asked, a hint hurt in his voice as if he suspected it was true.

"Lair's night, and you question me?" She frowns slightly. "Not very festive of you."

"Festivities be damned if you're not well, my rose." Gale gave a gentle smile, his black demi-mask framing his lips. "You worry me, and you're mine to worry about, my wife." His black gloved finger reached out to boop her masked nose, the nose of a skull. Gale huffed at the irony of a skull with a nose… andappendage and feature decidedly lacking in the real specimen.

"If you won't taste the champagne, at least let me push my wife around the dance floor a turn or two?" His eyes gleamed, expectant and eager to show her how wonderful this night was. "Your literal Rose Incarnate desires it." He bowed, his purple suit, covered in splotches of red and pink rose blossoms did catch the eye and accept his shape. Their pet names for one another made into his own disguise for the night.

Merelind shook her head, smiling. Even in her state, she couldn't deny him a dance. She held her crimson skirts, her skull mask sticking to her sweating face, but she smiled all the more. "A dance with Death is what you desire? Then I shall oblidge." Her small hand slipped into his, her mismatched eyes lost in the way his face captivated her, even half covered in his disguise. She would know him anywhere.

Gale's smile broadened as he led her to the dance floor, ever the gentleman. A lilting melody, if a bit haunting, crescendoed as he led her to the heart of the mass of dancers. Her body was ever bit lithe and graceful, characteristic of her elven blood. But in his arms, Gale could swear Merelind moved as an extension of his own body.

The same as it was when they made love.

She read every movement of his hands, of his feet on the dance floor, the smallest pressure of his hand at her waist. It was so easy for her to flow around him, like liquid gold, the same shade of her hair that cascaded down her back.

Gale couldn't help the enamored sigh from his lips as he beheld her in his arms. Compared to every other costumed figure in the room, even masked she turned heads. Even disguised as Red Death walking abroad, she was every inch a Queen.

He pressed a kiss to her neck as the moves of the dance dictated he pull her close. "My love, you are radiant," he praised. "What lucky a man am I that I should forgo the shadows of temples and orders of hollow goddesses to call you mine. My wife."

Merelind bristled at the mere vague mention of Mystra, but nevertheless, she smiled back at him.

"Certainly the call of the divine is nothing compared to the call of your wife from our bed, hmm?" She laughed, her body aching and protesting. Eager to return to said bed.

A deep rumble of a laugh vibrated her ear, the soft scruff of his beard scoring her sensitive shell. "Oh I'm sure your designs on getting me into bed are purely innocent, eh, wife?" He crooned, hand sliding down the red swaths of her skirt to squeeze her ass.

Her face fell, her lips pressing as she turned her head. "You misunderstand my intentions," she murmured, even as he took her hand to spin her under his arm. Mid-turn, Merelind caught the perplexed frown on his face.

"Have I?" Gale asked, confused and concerned. "Since when have I ever failed to follow the careful trail of your wiles to our…" he blushed and leaned in to whisper, "marital activities."

"Hells Gale, no," she pulled back, blushing harder even as they kept swaying and moving across the dance floor. "It's not that…. I'm tired." She swallowed the ball of nerves that threatened to burst from her throat. "I have reason to be."

"Gods, are you ill?" Gale frowned deeper. "Did you get into the cursed tomes I explicitly told you not to in my library? Is it Tara? Did she say something? My mother? Did she comment on…?"

Merelind lifted her hand and pressed her fingers firmly on his flapping lips.

"No. It has nothing to do with any of that and everything to do with you… me… us."

Gale frowned in utter confusion even as her fingers covered his lips. He tried to speak but Merelind only pressed to them harder.

"Ah ah, Gale," she smirked. "My words are heavy with meaning… they're still… incubating."

The perplexed scowl didn't move. Still nothing. Those brown eyes shifted even as he closed a hand around her wrist to remove her silencing touch. His mind, so sharp in matters of magic still did not perceive her meaning.

"Before I give you a pregnant pause, I'll tell you why I'm tired… eager to rest, less of my spritely self."

His eyes went wide, head moving as he eyed her up at down. "Is this a trick? It is Liar's Night. A good night for pranks." He muttered, a hint of excitement. "Don't tease me, Merelind," Gale hummed, looking down, a sad turn to his masked mouth as his hands came to rest on her hips.

"Not a trick, a…treat."

Gale's brown eyes warmed even brighter. "Oh… Oh, Merelind…" her meaning now had his belief. Those hands that could spark fire and lightning rested on her front. "Oh, my rose, I confess I was… expecting… something quite different, thought I cannot fathom what."

"Tch, don't use such crude puns, Gale." She teased, she smiled. "This dance for two is now a dance for three," she laughed softly, pushing her mask up off her face so he could see her revealed elation. "I hope you don't mind if she cuts in."

"She?" Gale pushed up his mask as well so he could smile as hard and wide as he wanted without impediment. "Already you think we are having a baby girl? A little half-elf daughter?"

Merelind shrugged, eyes down where his hand pressed to her front, belly still flat but sure to grow round now. "A mother's intuition…" she mused. "I can only think of the joy she will bring." Red and blue eyes drifted up to his face, lost in the warmth of his brown ones, watching them well with tears. "A creation of joy."

"An accurate observation," he commented in reply. "Our creation of joy, or," he lifted his finger yet again, his smile all trembling with happiness, "in your Elvish mother tongue of which I have been hard at study… Nhavae."

"Nhavae," Merelind repeated pulling herself into his embrace. "I think you should take Nhavae and I home. It's been a long night of lanterns, and tricks, and treats."

Gale laughed, scooping her up, formal dress and all, in his arms as he carried her from the party back into the lanternlight and dark of night. "Then allow me to escort you both back home to the warm tower that awaits."

Pumpkins grinned, lanterns flared in the foggy dark, but there was no one warmer or bright that night than the Wizard of Waterdeep and his wife.

“Blessed by a Curse: Ch3” where Mer and Gale will… “form an alliance”

“Close your eyes a moment:” Dead dove God Gale stalking Merelind post game

“Perfectly Silenced:” Tavship Smut Merelind x Glennath—NSFW Post battle throat fuck

“Peg Me:” Ascended Astarion getting pegged by his Consort

“Loss and Murder:” Dead Dove DJ Shadowheart and Bhaal’s Chosen Merelind with torture and hatefuck and monsterfucking

“Until Morning at Least:” Dead Dove Dub con Astarion sleep paralysis demon, shadow bondage and somnophilia