[ Gods, Astarion really is going to feed him the rest of this cake. Far be it for Iorveth to stop what he started, though: spurred on by the arch of Astarion's smile and an assertion that he's enjoying himself, Iorveth takes the offered bite. ]
You're better at it than you know. [ He should write a book. "How to Care for Your Terrorist-Slash-Freedom-Fighter". ] And I didn't think anyone ever would.
[ Care for him. Especially not after getting half his face torn apart. Iorveth had never believed the humans when they said that the disfigurement made him less of an elf, but he had internalized, to some extent, that he became too strange to love.
A soft exhale, fond, and Iorveth straightens just a bit to run a hand through Astarion's hair. ]
You continue to be a miracle in every way that counts.
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You're better at it than you know. [ He should write a book. "How to Care for Your Terrorist-Slash-Freedom-Fighter". ] And I didn't think anyone ever would.
[ Care for him. Especially not after getting half his face torn apart. Iorveth had never believed the humans when they said that the disfigurement made him less of an elf, but he had internalized, to some extent, that he became too strange to love.
A soft exhale, fond, and Iorveth straightens just a bit to run a hand through Astarion's hair. ]
You continue to be a miracle in every way that counts.