illithidnapped: (45)
Tʜᴇ Pᴀʟᴇ Eʟғ | Asᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ Aɴᴄᴜɴíɴ ([personal profile] illithidnapped) wrote2021-05-17 05:27 pm
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illithidnapped: (51)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2021-05-26 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
Correct enough observation, Fenris, and a good tack to take.

Another sip of wine warms him. Warms him, in ways he hasn't felt in an absolute eternity, and he finds he's more content in this moment than he has been up until now— or, maybe that's just because he's drinking an excellent vintage on an empty stomach. Right. Alcohol does that.

"Ten years is quite a long time. Whatever happened to her, then? Not dead I hope."
broodypants: (is the man)

[personal profile] broodypants 2021-05-26 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
"None have heard of her since war broke out in Kirkwall. I assume her dead, as most do."

He doesn't sound overly choked up about it, but neither, for once, is he spiteful.

"There's an utterly inaccurate statue of her down by the docks, if you're ever passing through."
illithidnapped: (37)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2021-05-26 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
"You'll have to take me there sometime. So I don't get lost, of course."

Inaccurate could mean a lot of things— Astarion hopes in this case, it means in all the absolute best ways. A little exaggeration after (alleged) death never hurt anyone, after all.

Also, thank you for absolutely letting him sidestep your initial question, Fenris. Very helpful.
broodypants: (adrock!)

[personal profile] broodypants 2021-05-26 01:06 am (UTC)(link)
Astarion will make his own mistakes. In the end, Fenris can only push him so far, and he recognizes that.

"Do you want a tour of Kirkwall? I lived here a very long time." A bitter smile crosses his features. "I should see how my mansion in Hightown has weathered the years."
illithidnapped: (82)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2021-05-26 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
He's halfway through yet another finishing sip from his own cup when that question registers, widening red eyes with eager interest. Oh, normally a tour might be a chore in and of itself, but he finds he enjoys his current companionship— and anything's bound to be an improvement over spending an afternoon picking at his own fingernails or topping off chores.

And really. A mansion. Gods. He could use the sight of one of those. Comfortable bedding, high ceilings, a roaring fire—

He leans forward, stealing yet another pour from the bottle to top himself off before any and all departures, already rising to stand in the process.

"I thought you'd never ask."
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