[ A genuine frisson of fear, when Astarion mentions the cells. Iorveth watches the tiefling shift gears and kaleidoscope from furious indignity to deep-rooted trauma, as if he can't bear the thought of being locked into one of those damp, dark rooms and be left there for uncertain periods of time.
"No! No. Please. I'll stay out of your way, as long as you don't put me down there."
Long fingers scrabble at Astarion's sleeve, imploring. Iorveth frowns, and flicks his gaze to the side, towards the desk and its drawers. ]
A taste of his own medicine, then?
[ If Iorveth remembers correctly, whatever he was dosed with would have been a sedative for the undead, not a poison. A part of him would still be more comfortable with killing someone who wishes Astarion harm (no loose ends), but more important than that is allowing Astarion to feel like he has control over their current, very chaotic situation.
A low breath, and Iorveth lists against Astarion's side again. Damris furrows his brows, clearly displeased by what he perceives, perhaps, to be audacity.
(Linus is nice, but Damris doubts that Linus would like him if he looked different. So many mortals have promised him things, and none of them have delivered.) ]
no subject
"No! No. Please. I'll stay out of your way, as long as you don't put me down there."
Long fingers scrabble at Astarion's sleeve, imploring. Iorveth frowns, and flicks his gaze to the side, towards the desk and its drawers. ]
A taste of his own medicine, then?
[ If Iorveth remembers correctly, whatever he was dosed with would have been a sedative for the undead, not a poison. A part of him would still be more comfortable with killing someone who wishes Astarion harm (no loose ends), but more important than that is allowing Astarion to feel like he has control over their current, very chaotic situation.
A low breath, and Iorveth lists against Astarion's side again. Damris furrows his brows, clearly displeased by what he perceives, perhaps, to be audacity.
(Linus is nice, but Damris doubts that Linus would like him if he looked different. So many mortals have promised him things, and none of them have delivered.) ]