[ Helpful, kind Gale. It isn't his fault that vampire politics are following them all the way to Athkatla, and it isn't Astarion's fault that remnants of Cazador are still scattered around the continent like plague rats.
Iorveth sits up, shoulders pressed against the headboard of the bed. He watches Astarion and his reluctance to look at anything but the blank canvas of the ceiling above them― a survival tactic, maybe. Or a regression of sorts. Something about being buried and only being able to look up.
Protective, Iorveth keeps one hand rested against Astarion's cheek. A point of contact, if nothing else. ]
Just another loathsome creature.
[ Simply, without any insistence. If Astarion wants to talk through his feelings, Iorveth won't stop him; he was patient after Iorveth had his nightmares before, and Iorveth wants to extend the same grace to Astarion. ]
no subject
Iorveth sits up, shoulders pressed against the headboard of the bed. He watches Astarion and his reluctance to look at anything but the blank canvas of the ceiling above them― a survival tactic, maybe. Or a regression of sorts. Something about being buried and only being able to look up.
Protective, Iorveth keeps one hand rested against Astarion's cheek. A point of contact, if nothing else. ]
Just another loathsome creature.
[ Simply, without any insistence. If Astarion wants to talk through his feelings, Iorveth won't stop him; he was patient after Iorveth had his nightmares before, and Iorveth wants to extend the same grace to Astarion. ]