[He likes Karlach already, but his pride is stung by the way she looks at him— and besides, it's true. He won't deny they require allies if they have any hope of storming Cazador's palace, but Leto is stubbornly certain he can handle whatever other foes might appear tonight. Baby birds indeed, and his expression had gone as indignant as Astarion's at that comparison.
As for living with others . . . Gods, as much as he likes this crew already, there's such a difference between befriending them and living with them, however temporary. Even in Kirkwall, his mansion (however lonely) was a refuge from all the chaos and excitement that their friends brought; he was never built like Isabela or Varric, thriving by being in the center of things, and Astarion is the same way. Gods, Ataashi is the same way— even now, she hasn't stopped whining and burrowing against him, overwhelmed by so many people.
On the other hand . . . he winces as Shadowheart's hands glide up his side. Those claws had sunk deep, and though they hadn't hit any major organs (he hopes), it's still an injury that will take some time to heal. And that's to say nothing of his arm . . . he could fight through the pain, of course, but it would be better not to.]
We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. I will not deny that we are grateful for your aid, but—
['Yeah? And what if we aren't in time next time?' Karlach snaps. 'What if they attack again tonight? Whatever devil he's made a deal with will be all the more eager to get his paws on all those souls now that Astarion's back— do you really think he won't throw all his forces behind Cazzy? You're going to get hit and hit hard, sooner rather than later!'
'It'll take time for me to finish this,' Shadowheart adds, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 'You aren't going to be up on your feet for at least another day, if not longer, never mind fighting. And I'll need to monitor for infection.'
'See? You do need us! And I wasn't asking,' the tiefling adds, glaring at her companions meaningfully. 'We have the room, and even if we didn't, we'll bunk up. We're not leaving them behind.']
We'll think about it.
[Firmer, that, and in answer to Karlach's beseeching tone. Putting one hand on Shadowheart's in silent pause, Leto sits up properly, his countenance sterner than before. Take me seriously, for he cannot stand being pitied, much less babied.]
As for tonight . . . you may as well stay, if you wish. There is a bar below, and that will serve well enough as resting place. [Yes, Montressor mumbles, unheard by anyone save her sister. Yes stay yes, her little tail wagging sedately as she snuffles at Wyll.] Some of you, anyway. But this is not a move we would make lightly, and we need time.
[To discuss it, to reel from all that's happened tonight, to steel themselves to the very real possibility of suddenly having a whole handful of roommates . . . it's a lot. It isn't the answer Karlach wants to hear, clearly, but before she can continue arguing her case, Wyll interrupts.
'Come on,' he says, ostensibly to the group but to her as well. 'Shadowheart needs room to work, I bet— and if there's a tavern below, we can settle in and plan further. No decisions need be made right this second, and nobody will be unprotected.'
It's a neat compromise, and it seems to settle some of Karlach's fretful urgency. She glances between Leto and Astarion, a little frown on her face, before nodding. 'Right,' she agrees. 'Come on, then.'
'I could have that done in a moment,' Gale says to Astarion as they begin to file out (the pups dutifully following Wyll, two little sentient orbs fixated on their newest adoration). 'Are you certain you want a carpenter?']
no subject
[He likes Karlach already, but his pride is stung by the way she looks at him— and besides, it's true. He won't deny they require allies if they have any hope of storming Cazador's palace, but Leto is stubbornly certain he can handle whatever other foes might appear tonight. Baby birds indeed, and his expression had gone as indignant as Astarion's at that comparison.
As for living with others . . . Gods, as much as he likes this crew already, there's such a difference between befriending them and living with them, however temporary. Even in Kirkwall, his mansion (however lonely) was a refuge from all the chaos and excitement that their friends brought; he was never built like Isabela or Varric, thriving by being in the center of things, and Astarion is the same way. Gods, Ataashi is the same way— even now, she hasn't stopped whining and burrowing against him, overwhelmed by so many people.
On the other hand . . . he winces as Shadowheart's hands glide up his side. Those claws had sunk deep, and though they hadn't hit any major organs (he hopes), it's still an injury that will take some time to heal. And that's to say nothing of his arm . . . he could fight through the pain, of course, but it would be better not to.]
We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. I will not deny that we are grateful for your aid, but—
['Yeah? And what if we aren't in time next time?' Karlach snaps. 'What if they attack again tonight? Whatever devil he's made a deal with will be all the more eager to get his paws on all those souls now that Astarion's back— do you really think he won't throw all his forces behind Cazzy? You're going to get hit and hit hard, sooner rather than later!'
'It'll take time for me to finish this,' Shadowheart adds, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 'You aren't going to be up on your feet for at least another day, if not longer, never mind fighting. And I'll need to monitor for infection.'
'See? You do need us! And I wasn't asking,' the tiefling adds, glaring at her companions meaningfully. 'We have the room, and even if we didn't, we'll bunk up. We're not leaving them behind.']
We'll think about it.
[Firmer, that, and in answer to Karlach's beseeching tone. Putting one hand on Shadowheart's in silent pause, Leto sits up properly, his countenance sterner than before. Take me seriously, for he cannot stand being pitied, much less babied.]
As for tonight . . . you may as well stay, if you wish. There is a bar below, and that will serve well enough as resting place. [Yes, Montressor mumbles, unheard by anyone save her sister. Yes stay yes, her little tail wagging sedately as she snuffles at Wyll.] Some of you, anyway. But this is not a move we would make lightly, and we need time.
[To discuss it, to reel from all that's happened tonight, to steel themselves to the very real possibility of suddenly having a whole handful of roommates . . . it's a lot. It isn't the answer Karlach wants to hear, clearly, but before she can continue arguing her case, Wyll interrupts.
'Come on,' he says, ostensibly to the group but to her as well. 'Shadowheart needs room to work, I bet— and if there's a tavern below, we can settle in and plan further. No decisions need be made right this second, and nobody will be unprotected.'
It's a neat compromise, and it seems to settle some of Karlach's fretful urgency. She glances between Leto and Astarion, a little frown on her face, before nodding. 'Right,' she agrees. 'Come on, then.'
'I could have that done in a moment,' Gale says to Astarion as they begin to file out (the pups dutifully following Wyll, two little sentient orbs fixated on their newest adoration). 'Are you certain you want a carpenter?']