[ Astarion will absolutely cry and stomp his feet, which are actually two things he's trying very hard not to do right now. This is worse than the nightmare, somehow; it's a new nightmare, something that can still hurt him now. ]
No, no, absolutely not.
[ He stomps his feet. Fuck.
Watching the person he loves most in the world get loaded into a crate is possibly the most horrific thing he could do, and he rushes to it, grabbing the other end of Iorveth and tugging like they're two dogs fighting over the same stick. She's a hag, and of course he could never be stronger than her — he's hardly even strong enough to heft Iorveth's body up, but he struggles through it regardless. ]
Keep your stupid cloak, then! I don't want it.
[ He is very much throwing a fit now. Crying, stomping his feet, the works. ]
no subject
No, no, absolutely not.
[ He stomps his feet. Fuck.
Watching the person he loves most in the world get loaded into a crate is possibly the most horrific thing he could do, and he rushes to it, grabbing the other end of Iorveth and tugging like they're two dogs fighting over the same stick. She's a hag, and of course he could never be stronger than her — he's hardly even strong enough to heft Iorveth's body up, but he struggles through it regardless. ]
Keep your stupid cloak, then! I don't want it.
[ He is very much throwing a fit now. Crying, stomping his feet, the works. ]
You can have whatever you want, just not him.