[ On his end of the crystal, Bastien’s concerned frown has begun to stretch into a smile, at the jokes and at the fact that Astarion thinks (correctly) Bastien would look out for them. And for Fenris, sure. Bastien hardly knows him, but for Riftwatch’s sake. For Astarion’s.
The question doesn’t make him stop smiling. It makes him smile wider. It’s reflex. Easier and often less suspicious to channel a grimace into a grin than to do nothing at all. ]
Oh.
[ He rubs the smile off his face with his hand. He shouldn’t be caught off guard by this. The circling-back. Bastien does it to people often enough, himself, and Astarion’s done it before. But still. ]
He died. He was hanged—two years ago now.
We hadn’t been close for years before that.
[ A footnote to avoid pity, to avoid claiming any portion of grief larger than rightfully belongs to him. Vincent had a wife. Vincent had three children. They were there when he died—the oldest, at least—and Bastien wasn’t. ]
The lesson to take from this, my young old vampire, [ is lighter, in a gallows humor kind of way, ] is never move on and never get [ mostly ] over anything, or someone will die.
no subject
The question doesn’t make him stop smiling. It makes him smile wider. It’s reflex. Easier and often less suspicious to channel a grimace into a grin than to do nothing at all. ]
Oh.
[ He rubs the smile off his face with his hand. He shouldn’t be caught off guard by this. The circling-back. Bastien does it to people often enough, himself, and Astarion’s done it before. But still. ]
He died. He was hanged—two years ago now.
We hadn’t been close for years before that.
[ A footnote to avoid pity, to avoid claiming any portion of grief larger than rightfully belongs to him. Vincent had a wife. Vincent had three children. They were there when he died—the oldest, at least—and Bastien wasn’t. ]
The lesson to take from this, my young old vampire, [ is lighter, in a gallows humor kind of way, ] is never move on and never get [ mostly ] over anything, or someone will die.