[Frankly, it's a far tamer response than Fenris himself would have given so long ago. And thank god, he knows how to back off. He still doesn't love the thought of Astarion sleeping with others for money (or for the chance to steal from them), but it isn't his choice. Leave it, he orders himself sharply, and yet stares down at that blot for far longer than he should, trying to decipher its meaning.
But no: leave it, he tells himself again. There's nothing good that can come of badgering Astarion, and the last thing he wants to do is come across like some preachy Chantry brother eager to save someone from the sin of sex. The only thing he allows himself is a sentence, small and penned next to I'll consider your offer.]
There is no time limit.
[There. An endlessly open offer, and they can move on.]
No. I have not seen her for many years, but the last I heard she had gone back to sailing the seas as a raider. She even calls herself an admiral, though I do not know how true that may be— the legitimacy of the position, anyway, for I have no doubt she has the cheek to title herself that regardless.
For her sake, I hope the ships she raids are less perilous than they once were. Have you heard much about the Qunari uprising here? She began it by stealing— and losing— one of their most revered religious tomes.
It is as it should be. She always longed for the sea, and living for nearly a decade in Kirkwall was akin to caging a bird.
[A pause, and then:]
I doubt I will ever see her again.
[And it is what it is, of course, but it's not hard to hear the faintest shadow of grief in those words.]
no subject
But no: leave it, he tells himself again. There's nothing good that can come of badgering Astarion, and the last thing he wants to do is come across like some preachy Chantry brother eager to save someone from the sin of sex. The only thing he allows himself is a sentence, small and penned next to I'll consider your offer.]
There is no time limit.
[There. An endlessly open offer, and they can move on.]
No. I have not seen her for many years, but the last I heard she had gone back to sailing the seas as a raider. She even calls herself an admiral, though I do not know how true that may be— the legitimacy of the position, anyway, for I have no doubt she has the cheek to title herself that regardless.
For her sake, I hope the ships she raids are less perilous than they once were. Have you heard much about the Qunari uprising here? She began it by stealing— and losing— one of their most revered religious tomes.
It is as it should be. She always longed for the sea, and living for nearly a decade in Kirkwall was akin to caging a bird.
[A pause, and then:]
I doubt I will ever see her again.
[And it is what it is, of course, but it's not hard to hear the faintest shadow of grief in those words.]