[ Astarion would probably feel less shame about burning down Neverwinter than he does about his past, which almost certainly says something about the type of person he is; to hurt someone—even many someones—of his own volition is less wretched than being hurt because he was too helpless to stop it. But he does soften at the statement, because of course that's what he wanted to hear but didn't know how to ask for, that Iorveth will love him no matter how wretched he might be.
And then Gale fucking ruins the moment. ]
My gods, Gale, can't you see that we're having a private conversation? [ To Iorveth: ] Some people have no manners.
[ "Oh, I apolo—" Gale starts, as if by reflex. A moment of thought, though, and he crosses his arms. "This is my home, may I remind you." ]
no subject
And then Gale fucking ruins the moment. ]
My gods, Gale, can't you see that we're having a private conversation? [ To Iorveth: ] Some people have no manners.
[ "Oh, I apolo—" Gale starts, as if by reflex. A moment of thought, though, and he crosses his arms. "This is my home, may I remind you." ]