[ It's fortunate, Iorveth thinks, that Astarion only saw him after he was sure that Astarion was still alive. He might have been unnerved by the Iorveth that that poor brothel girl saw in the hallway, so utterly void of emotion or warmth or empathy.
(The only time in an age where he'd had to cut himself off, entirely, from the act of feeling. He knew he wouldn't have been able to bear it if he started thinking of the unthinkable, of the possibility that he might actually have fucking lost Astarion.)
Enough about that, though. Iorveth huffs, brow hiked, and flicks under Astarion's chin. ]
Full circle, I suppose. [ Back to the source of this conversation. ] I could undress.
[ He wouldn't mind, really. Gale might not be pleased, and poor Tara will probably want to stay far, far away from Iorveth, but being naked really isn't an issue. ]
no subject
(The only time in an age where he'd had to cut himself off, entirely, from the act of feeling. He knew he wouldn't have been able to bear it if he started thinking of the unthinkable, of the possibility that he might actually have fucking lost Astarion.)
Enough about that, though. Iorveth huffs, brow hiked, and flicks under Astarion's chin. ]
Full circle, I suppose. [ Back to the source of this conversation. ] I could undress.
[ He wouldn't mind, really. Gale might not be pleased, and poor Tara will probably want to stay far, far away from Iorveth, but being naked really isn't an issue. ]