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."
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.
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"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."
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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."