essea: (54.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2025-02-03 12:40 pm (UTC)

[ Signs of privilege and prestige all around them; Iorveth, for now, doesn't wonder if Astarion would prefer a life like this instead of the one they'd been living the past few days. He's too busy sinking back onto a could-soft duvet with Astarion above him, shushing animal instinct to indulge in the impossible certainty that Astarion won't actually hurt him in any meaningful way.

Most people who have been recently restrained in a horrific way would say "too soon" to being tied up, even in a playful manner. Iorveth, not a normal or reasonable person, slowly links his wrists above his head, letting a frisson of thrill run up his spine at the thought of being able to trust someone the way he trusts Astarion. Iorveth has fought all his life for the semblance of control, so it feels nice, in a way, to not feel threatened when he gives up said control to someone else.

"I think I'm more in love with you than strictly necessary," is a candidate for an answer, but Iorveth settles on:
]

If needs must.

[ Long, lean, and stretched on a bed. Iorveth remembers how miserable Astarion'd been, curled under that bridge in the middle of a forest, and wants to make up for making him feel so small. ]

Deliberate to your heart's content.

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