[ More heads turn as they wind their way around the perimeter of the stadium-sized open market situated in the heart of the District. The crowd of people is thickest here, the time of day (night) having done nothing to thin it. Iorveth makes no attempt to venture near the throng, however, instinctively disliking how many people are bumping shoulders in that space, and pulls Astarion closer to him in response to that squeezed hand.
Delusion says that everyone whose eyes linger a little too long is looking at Astarion, because why wouldn't they be? Iorveth has seen a lot of faces in the short amount of time since they'd been dropped unceremoniously into this new city, but no one has been half as striking as his favorite person (biased).
There probably are a few respectable jewelers in the open market, but Iorveth steers them away anyway. ]
Eager to fit something on me? [ Speaking of jewelers. Iorveth smooths his thumb over the back of Astarion's. ] You're the sweet one, I think.
no subject
Delusion says that everyone whose eyes linger a little too long is looking at Astarion, because why wouldn't they be? Iorveth has seen a lot of faces in the short amount of time since they'd been dropped unceremoniously into this new city, but no one has been half as striking as his favorite person (biased).
There probably are a few respectable jewelers in the open market, but Iorveth steers them away anyway. ]
Eager to fit something on me? [ Speaking of jewelers. Iorveth smooths his thumb over the back of Astarion's. ] You're the sweet one, I think.