[ Astarion asks, and maybe it's just the buzz of alcohol in Iorveth's system, but he doesn't Get It immediately. There's a beat that stretches after the question, invisible question marks joining the garlands strung across the ceiling above them.
For a moment, he really, truly has no idea why Astarion is asking. And then, when the moment passes: ]
I'd never considered it. [ He isn't posturing; he just. Hasn't. Rather happy to acknowledge instead of being acknowledged, what with the state of him and the purpose he serves. He tilts his head like a questioning dog. ] ―You've already agreed to stay.
[ That's his idea of being worshiped, which probably says too much about him. Hm. Even for a drunk man, that answer seems lame, so he searches for something slightly more practical, which turns out to be: ] Bathing with me, I suppose.
[ Warm, close, skin on skin. His idea of a good time. ]
no subject
For a moment, he really, truly has no idea why Astarion is asking. And then, when the moment passes: ]
I'd never considered it. [ He isn't posturing; he just. Hasn't. Rather happy to acknowledge instead of being acknowledged, what with the state of him and the purpose he serves. He tilts his head like a questioning dog. ] ―You've already agreed to stay.
[ That's his idea of being worshiped, which probably says too much about him. Hm. Even for a drunk man, that answer seems lame, so he searches for something slightly more practical, which turns out to be: ] Bathing with me, I suppose.
[ Warm, close, skin on skin. His idea of a good time. ]