[ This might be all he needs in life: a Gale to irritate, an Iorveth to groom him. It's funny how a couple days can make all the difference. Not long ago, he was staring at a damp spot on the ceiling of the Commandant's basement, feeling the lowest he's felt in a long time. Now, in the safety of Gale's tower, he allows himself to feel— hope? The habitual urge to suppress it is strong; for much of his existence, hope only meant that he felt even more dismayed when he was inevitably let down. Better not to hope at all and cushion the fall.
It's strong enough now not to be extinguished, though, which is a little intimidating in itself. Astarion would be lying if he said he weren't nervous that this will eventually end in disappointment, but for the first time, he allows himself the possibility that it won't. He clasps his hands behind his back, smiling. ]
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It's strong enough now not to be extinguished, though, which is a little intimidating in itself. Astarion would be lying if he said he weren't nervous that this will eventually end in disappointment, but for the first time, he allows himself the possibility that it won't. He clasps his hands behind his back, smiling. ]
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