[ Poor Linus. His beloved is hogtied and tossed onto a pile of divan cushions like an attractive sack of potatoes, and the deranged elf responsible is trancing soundly with his face buried in a soft pillow that smells like his beloved. The dichotomy of man.
By the time Astarion returns with his card games won and his trinkets purchased, Iorveth is awake again and lounging in bed, restless but adhering to his promise to behave: he has his heirloom bow sitting on top of his crossed legs, and stops polishing it once he hears the door to their room swing open and shut.
If Astarion beelines for the bedroom, he'll find Iorveth with a throwing knife in hand, Just In Case. It, of course, gets tossed aside once Iorveth confirms that it's not an enemy who's infiltrated his space; he brightens in the way he only does in Astarion's vicinity, lips curling upwards in an uncalculated, unconscious smile. ]
You're back. [ Invisible fox ears flatten, relaxed and pleased. ] How does Athkatla measure against Waterdeep?
[ Starting to put his things away to give Astarion more space, wiping his wax-covered fingers on a dirty rag. ]
no subject
By the time Astarion returns with his card games won and his trinkets purchased, Iorveth is awake again and lounging in bed, restless but adhering to his promise to behave: he has his heirloom bow sitting on top of his crossed legs, and stops polishing it once he hears the door to their room swing open and shut.
If Astarion beelines for the bedroom, he'll find Iorveth with a throwing knife in hand, Just In Case. It, of course, gets tossed aside once Iorveth confirms that it's not an enemy who's infiltrated his space; he brightens in the way he only does in Astarion's vicinity, lips curling upwards in an uncalculated, unconscious smile. ]
You're back. [ Invisible fox ears flatten, relaxed and pleased. ] How does Athkatla measure against Waterdeep?
[ Starting to put his things away to give Astarion more space, wiping his wax-covered fingers on a dirty rag. ]