It's not Henselt I'll be remembering. Gods know that I don't want his face to be the last one I recall at death's door.
[ Another snort, and he pinches Astarion's nose. ]
I'll remember sharing a bed with you for the first meaningful time, you fool. So yes, a happy thought to take with me to oblivion.
[ The murder meant everything in a practical sense, but the murder didn't magically liberate his people; that's a future that still remains to be seen. Trancing with Astarion, however, was a turning point, and he'll remember that more fondly than slitting a man's throat. One is novel, the other is routine.
Releasing Astarion's poor abused nose (it's been bonked enough tonight), Iorveth lets himself smile briefly before flicking his attention towards the door, and by extension, the space outside it. No signs of anyone approaching yet, but they might be cutting it close. ]
no subject
[ Another snort, and he pinches Astarion's nose. ]
I'll remember sharing a bed with you for the first meaningful time, you fool. So yes, a happy thought to take with me to oblivion.
[ The murder meant everything in a practical sense, but the murder didn't magically liberate his people; that's a future that still remains to be seen. Trancing with Astarion, however, was a turning point, and he'll remember that more fondly than slitting a man's throat. One is novel, the other is routine.
Releasing Astarion's poor abused nose (it's been bonked enough tonight), Iorveth lets himself smile briefly before flicking his attention towards the door, and by extension, the space outside it. No signs of anyone approaching yet, but they might be cutting it close. ]