The night had been long and cold, Gale was surprisingly an excellent source of body heat. His arms wrapped tightly around you, face buried neatly into your chest.

The sun warded the darkness away like garlic to a vampire (even if Astarion insisted that was just a stupid myth— he actually quite liked it). The sky was orange, casting a warm, familiar glow over the two lovers who were curled up together in Gale’s tent.

He stirred, gently pushing his head up to look at the sky. “If I were an immortal god, this would be the one pleasure I wouldn’t get tired of.” Gale whispered, his voice quiet as to not startle you. His hand slowly brushed some hair out your face, then he laid back down in your arms, the warmth of your body making him smile.

This, laying in the morning sunrise with his love, was something Gale could never hate. He adored this time of day- peaceful snoring, warm cuddles and his beautiful partner. What more could a wizard want?