[ Someone has to consider how to navigate their uncertain future, Iorveth thinks, but he doesn't say so. No indictments tonight, not even about Astarion's underutilized brain cells. (Like Iorveth is one to talk.)
He gets up off of the stool and brushes the last of his fallen hair from his bath-warm skin, then wraps the towel on his lap around his waist as a perfunctory way to hide his privates. ]
You keep me busy, either way.
[ Which is a good thing, if Astarion is wondering. Iorveth plants a quick peck to Astarion's forehead before doing as he's told (gods, when did he become so easy), navigating towards poor Shadowheart's ransacked things to examine himself in her handmirror. He still isn't much to look at, but regardless: ]
―Mm. You truly are good with your hands. [ Tipping his head to the side, watching nicely-trimmed hair fall tidily into place. ] Talented, even.
no subject
He gets up off of the stool and brushes the last of his fallen hair from his bath-warm skin, then wraps the towel on his lap around his waist as a perfunctory way to hide his privates. ]
You keep me busy, either way.
[ Which is a good thing, if Astarion is wondering. Iorveth plants a quick peck to Astarion's forehead before doing as he's told (gods, when did he become so easy), navigating towards poor Shadowheart's ransacked things to examine himself in her handmirror. He still isn't much to look at, but regardless: ]
―Mm. You truly are good with your hands. [ Tipping his head to the side, watching nicely-trimmed hair fall tidily into place. ] Talented, even.