The campfire sparked and danced in the cold and sterile Sharran air that surrounded it, its flames twisting and undulating in the dark to a rhythm that only it could hear. As the flames crackled and hissed in their ancient tongue, a figure came to stand before them. The figure was tall, lean, horned, and muscular, and as the flames swirled and spiralled into the air, the figure joined it in kind.
Lithe on its feet, the dancer began to slowly spin around the fire's circumference, graceful steps turning into almost acrobatic leaps as it made its way along the edge of the flickering corona.
After a time, another figure came to join it, standing silently on the edge of the fire's light and watching. A soft, barely-there smile rested on its face as it did so, and after a time, the dancer slowed and stopped.
They approached each other and began to speak in quiet tones that their watcher could not hear, and he remained silent and unmoving in the invisibility granted to him by the dark and by their focus on one another.
He watched as, with an elegant extension of a hand, the dancer extended an invitation towards his companion, and he watched wordlessly as she slowly accepted the hand into her own. There was a momentary pause in their movements, and then as Gale stood mute and frozen, they began to dance in tandem.
He watched with a gaze that he could not tear away as Wyll matched her step for step, their movements in perfect harmony as the courtly choreography demanded that they perform for each other in solo soliloquy. He saw her raise her arms as she moved, saw the way that her relaxed attire grew taught around her breasts as the motion pulled and stretched it around them, and he watched as Wyll's gaze dripped unabashedly over her body as she moved.
When her motion ceased, the warlock began his approach once more, speaking quiet words that Gale could not catch. He watched as their dance resumed, languid and unhurried, their closeness increasing as the intimacy of their motions deepened.
Each raised a hand towards the other then, and as their palms touched and held as they slowly turned around each other, Gale could see the warlock's smile become one of true joy as they stared into each other's eyes. He watched then as they slowly descended, hands still flush with the other's, onto one knee in perfect mirror form, and watched, thrust into a state of dissociation from the slow and seething rise of anger, as they gazed at each other in a tension-laden silence.
As their stare lingered, Gale felt his fingers twitch where they were hanging limply at his sides, and from a place that was distant and closed and broken, he felt the rage that was now boiling within his chest lash out. He felt its righteous wrath issue its cold command to his hands, demanding that they raise and unleash the power of the Weave that now coursed through them with fury, and it was only the presence of her in front of the warlock that allowed him to disobey its siren's scream.
He stared, mute and emasculated, as the warlock deepened his gaze in an anticipatory silence, and watched as, suddenly, she turned her head to the side and away from his eyes. Wyll stared at her for a long moment before they both rose to their feet, and Gale watched as the warlock backed away slowly. The disappointment in Wyll's stance was palpable, even from the distance that Gale held, and he watched as the warlock stared her down for a long moment before turning and walking away.
She stood by the fire then, staring after Wyll as the warlock retreated to his tent, and Gale watched in silence as she padded over to the furs of her bedroll and sat down on them. The night was still young and she sat alone by the fire, casting her gaze around the site slowly as she scanned each silent tent in turn, their occupiers all having disappeared into their depths for their nightly routines before sleep. He watched as her eyes lit upon his tent as her last, and her expression was brooding as she stared at it in silence.
Slowly, she shifted in her position, and it looked as though she had been about to rise to her feet but then had thought better of it and lay down instead. As she lay her head down and closed her eyes, Gale's fingers finally moved, and with a flash of Weavelight that went unseen, he vanished.
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Unleash Me
FanfictionIt wasn't Mystra that he wanted, that much remained clear even as all clarity began to slip away. It wasn't her hands that he craved. He hadn't thought about her face when he had pumped desperately into his shaking hand every night previous, and it...
