essea: (54.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2025-02-02 04:34 am (UTC)

[ The both of them might as well be pushing up their respective pairs of imaginary spectacles, as far as Iorveth is concerned. A bit novel, really― like this, he can see how Astarion could have been a magistrate in his past life. Sitting at a table with someone, arguing semantics while reading pamphlets. He remembers the ridiculous pair of glasses that he'd made Astarion wear in that basement so long ago, and has to make a conscious effort to wave away the imaginary hearts that he's finding himself drawing around Astarion in this moment. ]

Keep arguing with him about loopholes, [ Iorveth half-laughs, sitting up from the table and bringing the now mostly-empty bread basket with him. ] I need to clean myself up.

[ A quick kiss to the crown of Astarion's head, which invites a raised brow from Gale. Iorveth doesn't know why Gale is acting brand new about this, but he also doesn't really care.

"Ah― I expect you'll need to borrow some of my clothes as well," Gale ventures, to which Iorveth waves a hand and brushes him aside.
] Keep Astarion company. I can make do.

[ Maybe he'll just lounge around in his smallclothes if all of Gale's clothes are that ghastly shade of purple. ]

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