[ Exotic, the man says, and it occurs to Iorveth that he hasn't seen a single wood elf since arriving at Athkatla. He can hazard a guess as to why. Still, if he had a copper for every time some idiot human called his people exotic, he'd be Duke Ravengard－ the comment is expected, but thank the gods Iorveth doesn't care for that this guy will be dead in a few minutes' time. ]
Aen Seidhe, [ Iorveth murmurs, fully expecting the man to not know what the fuck that is and being validated immediately by the man's slurred response: "bless you!", followed by a nails-against-chalkboard laugh.
Maybe Astarion should find someone better to sink his teeth into, actually. But blood is blood, and Iorveth doesn't want to waste time, so－
－he lets the man grope around some, damp palms searching over his waist, his hip. An exercise in knowing what Astarion had to put up with for centuries of his life. At least Iorveth doesn't actually have to sleep with this idiot. After a few seconds of the fumbling touches, Iorveth takes the man's wrist (imagines breaking it, as a treat) and guides him across the lobby. ]
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Aen Seidhe, [ Iorveth murmurs, fully expecting the man to not know what the fuck that is and being validated immediately by the man's slurred response: "bless you!", followed by a nails-against-chalkboard laugh.
Maybe Astarion should find someone better to sink his teeth into, actually. But blood is blood, and Iorveth doesn't want to waste time, so－
－he lets the man grope around some, damp palms searching over his waist, his hip. An exercise in knowing what Astarion had to put up with for centuries of his life. At least Iorveth doesn't actually have to sleep with this idiot. After a few seconds of the fumbling touches, Iorveth takes the man's wrist (imagines breaking it, as a treat) and guides him across the lobby. ]
Come. I want you in my room.