[ Oh, of course Astarion has to go and dramatically ruin the new coiffure. Iorveth sighs through his teeth, watching silky hair spill back in uneven waves on soft sheets, and stifles the urge to roll his eye despite the effect that those big, pleading eyes have on him. ]
Don't be precious.
[ At least he acknowledges that Astarion is precious. Case in point: he can't help himself, and touches his palm to Astarion's cheek. ] You seemed remarkably capable of making your brother yield to your demands.
[ Translation: "you made bullying Petras look real easy". Another pleasant recollection, despite everything. Iorveth has already told Astarion that he was remarkably beautiful that night, deciding to spare the spawn instead of condemning them. That sentiment bleeds into the way he strokes under one red eye with his thumb, gentle and reverent before the touch retracts. ]
no subject
Don't be precious.
[ At least he acknowledges that Astarion is precious. Case in point: he can't help himself, and touches his palm to Astarion's cheek. ] You seemed remarkably capable of making your brother yield to your demands.
[ Translation: "you made bullying Petras look real easy". Another pleasant recollection, despite everything. Iorveth has already told Astarion that he was remarkably beautiful that night, deciding to spare the spawn instead of condemning them. That sentiment bleeds into the way he strokes under one red eye with his thumb, gentle and reverent before the touch retracts. ]