[He doesn't say I don't want it to, for wanting means very little in this world, and he's known that since he was a child. But maybe some hint of it comes out in the way he hunches forward, shoulders rising up to his ears as he glances back at Zevlor.]
They're gossiping about us already.
[Not an argument, but a confirmation. He's heard the jokes, endured the teasing questions, but it's all different now. And he could so quickly get in over his head, he realizes. How many times has he seen that play out? The starlings of the Moulin Rouge are friendly enough, it's true, but that friendliness can turn vicious in the blink of an eye, for social creatures have such a tendency to pick on the weak. His being Zevlor's adopted ward won't change that. It might even make it worse.
It'll certainly make things worse for Astarion. What kind of Diamond is caught rolling around with his bodyguard? Whether because of a scrap or— or other reasons, no one will ever let him forget it. He already has so much to fight against, for he will have to earn his place as Diamond— prove it so thoroughly that no one will ever have leave to say it's only because Zevlor has a soft spot for his son.]
I'll . . .
[What? He doesn't know. There's no foolish thoughts about stopping their friendship, for he could not tolerate a life without Astarion in it. But . . . he cocks his head at Zevlor, something a little more canny in his gaze.]
His tutor . . . your Diamond.
She never once got into fights like these, right? She can't afford to.
[Because the second you show weakness, there's always someone hungry to take your place. Astarion isn't alone in that dream, not at all.]
He's going to have to learn to be . . . to not do that. How to control himself, no matter what happens or who insults him. And until he learns how, I'll do it for both of us.
I won't let things go so far. I won't let it dissolve into fights like that.
[For isn't that what it means to protect someone? It isn't always external fights. Sometimes it's from within. Sometimes it's even from yourself, and your confused, traitorous heart that wants more than it should.]
no subject
They're gossiping about us already.
[Not an argument, but a confirmation. He's heard the jokes, endured the teasing questions, but it's all different now. And he could so quickly get in over his head, he realizes. How many times has he seen that play out? The starlings of the Moulin Rouge are friendly enough, it's true, but that friendliness can turn vicious in the blink of an eye, for social creatures have such a tendency to pick on the weak. His being Zevlor's adopted ward won't change that. It might even make it worse.
It'll certainly make things worse for Astarion. What kind of Diamond is caught rolling around with his bodyguard? Whether because of a scrap or— or other reasons, no one will ever let him forget it. He already has so much to fight against, for he will have to earn his place as Diamond— prove it so thoroughly that no one will ever have leave to say it's only because Zevlor has a soft spot for his son.]
I'll . . .
[What? He doesn't know. There's no foolish thoughts about stopping their friendship, for he could not tolerate a life without Astarion in it. But . . . he cocks his head at Zevlor, something a little more canny in his gaze.]
His tutor . . . your Diamond.
She never once got into fights like these, right? She can't afford to.
[Because the second you show weakness, there's always someone hungry to take your place. Astarion isn't alone in that dream, not at all.]
He's going to have to learn to be . . . to not do that. How to control himself, no matter what happens or who insults him. And until he learns how, I'll do it for both of us.
I won't let things go so far. I won't let it dissolve into fights like that.
[For isn't that what it means to protect someone? It isn't always external fights. Sometimes it's from within. Sometimes it's even from yourself, and your confused, traitorous heart that wants more than it should.]