[ "I'm not actually sure" makes Iorveth snort, but he's been around Astarion for long enough to know that contemplating cause-and-effect isn't one of Astarion's strong suits. He should have anticipated that― if they'd gotten the wrong cloak― Iorveth would rage, and seethe, and perhaps plot with Gale even if Astarion said no, and maybe they would have had a huge row about it. As they usually do. ]
I still wish to kill her, [ he says, matter-of-factly. Speaking of not being able to let anything go. ] She's living on borrowed time, as far as I'm concerned.
[ Maybe a century from now, he'll slip out for "an errand" and come back covered in hag blood. He sets that thought aside for now, and concentrates on scheming a little less.
Which brings him right back to being annoyed that there's a however-many-day ban on triumphant canoodling. He pulls Astarion closer by the waist and kisses his jaw, nibbling at a smooth patch of skin to watch it turn slightly pink.
The sound of kids laughing and playing nearby is still audible. Iorveth considers the pros and cons of doing something that will get Gale kicked out of the neighborhood. ]
no subject
I still wish to kill her, [ he says, matter-of-factly. Speaking of not being able to let anything go. ] She's living on borrowed time, as far as I'm concerned.
[ Maybe a century from now, he'll slip out for "an errand" and come back covered in hag blood. He sets that thought aside for now, and concentrates on scheming a little less.
Which brings him right back to being annoyed that there's a however-many-day ban on triumphant canoodling. He pulls Astarion closer by the waist and kisses his jaw, nibbling at a smooth patch of skin to watch it turn slightly pink.
The sound of kids laughing and playing nearby is still audible. Iorveth considers the pros and cons of doing something that will get Gale kicked out of the neighborhood. ]