[ No one up north has even met Astarion, and Iorveth is fairly sure that they'll be annoyed by him at first but warm to him quickly. Citation needed, perhaps, but the others they traveled with during the Illithid panic is evidence enough. Those weirdos love Astarion, even if they don't say it out loud (with the exception of Karlach and Wyll, who none of them deserve).
Astarion turns himself into a burrito, and Iorveth still lounges around, naked and unashamed, relaxed. Contrasting personalities, yet again. He huffs a laugh at the ridiculous pettiness of "Eisenhower", and finds more pillows to fortify themselves with. ]
I cared for him, certainly.
[ This is probably where he should say "forget him babe, you're the only one that matters", but Iorveth will be Iorveth. ]
But we were bound to each other by pain, I suppose. [ A bit of solemnity creeps into his voice, distant and detached. Like reciting history. The moment is brief; he comes back into himself, and rests a hand on Astarion's stomach over the blankets. ] You're different.
no subject
Astarion turns himself into a burrito, and Iorveth still lounges around, naked and unashamed, relaxed. Contrasting personalities, yet again. He huffs a laugh at the ridiculous pettiness of "Eisenhower", and finds more pillows to fortify themselves with. ]
I cared for him, certainly.
[ This is probably where he should say "forget him babe, you're the only one that matters", but Iorveth will be Iorveth. ]
But we were bound to each other by pain, I suppose. [ A bit of solemnity creeps into his voice, distant and detached. Like reciting history. The moment is brief; he comes back into himself, and rests a hand on Astarion's stomach over the blankets. ] You're different.