[ Ah. A wry quirk of his lips, and Iorveth swallows a mouthful of alcohol. ]
As you can see, [ gesturing to himself, at the general state of his face, ] "Mr. Ancunín" is talented at embellishment.
[ Wild that Astarion would lie about something so easily debunkable, honestly. Iorveth can accept that Astarion is fine with the way he looks, but that's different from trying to convince objective third parties that he's anything beyond "scarred and weird".
It's sweet, though. The mental image of Astarion having sat here extolling Iorveth's nonexistent virtues to a gaggle of young people is equal parts boggling and endearing: it's not what Iorveth expected, which prompts him to surreptitiously reach sideways and put his palm over one of Astarion's hands. Under the table, sneakily. ]
―Talented in other respects, too. Did he tell you about the time he took down a hook horror in the Underdark?
[ And, well. Iorveth will tell them, simply and truthfully, with smatterings of personal bias thrown in here and there. Again, it's impossible for him to be completely objective about Astarion anymore, and if he says something about Astarion being very beautiful while wedging a knife into the ugly creature's carapace, well. It is what it is. The youths look back and forth between Iorveth and Astarion with clear awe, murmuring about how they've only ever heard of warriors like Drizzt being able to slay a hook horror singlehandedly, how amazing it is that they've been in the Underdark at all. ]
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As you can see, [ gesturing to himself, at the general state of his face, ] "Mr. Ancunín" is talented at embellishment.
[ Wild that Astarion would lie about something so easily debunkable, honestly. Iorveth can accept that Astarion is fine with the way he looks, but that's different from trying to convince objective third parties that he's anything beyond "scarred and weird".
It's sweet, though. The mental image of Astarion having sat here extolling Iorveth's nonexistent virtues to a gaggle of young people is equal parts boggling and endearing: it's not what Iorveth expected, which prompts him to surreptitiously reach sideways and put his palm over one of Astarion's hands. Under the table, sneakily. ]
―Talented in other respects, too. Did he tell you about the time he took down a hook horror in the Underdark?
[ And, well. Iorveth will tell them, simply and truthfully, with smatterings of personal bias thrown in here and there. Again, it's impossible for him to be completely objective about Astarion anymore, and if he says something about Astarion being very beautiful while wedging a knife into the ugly creature's carapace, well. It is what it is. The youths look back and forth between Iorveth and Astarion with clear awe, murmuring about how they've only ever heard of warriors like Drizzt being able to slay a hook horror singlehandedly, how amazing it is that they've been in the Underdark at all. ]