I don't remember! [He protests in a snapping whine, defensive as he shifts in his own seat, brows low and— most of all— knowing. It doesn't take a genius to grasp exactly why that's a cruelty aimed at anyone, let alone his own adoptive pairing. Someone he cares for dearly enough to descend into a screaming, frothing, stupid fit over, apparently, because the rest wasn't bad enough on its own.
Gods above.]
I said a lot of things!!
[Which is true.
Ears pinned back, ankles shifting till they cross. Another glance elsewhere (he couldn't look at Kanan for gold or gods right now), and his next exhale turns sharp enough to cut.]
He knows I didn't mean it.
He can read fine now— that's how he does all the delivery unloading. He probably reads more than I do! It's not that big a deal.
[Astarion may not be able to meet his father's eyes right now, but trust Kanan's eyes are locked on his son. His squirming, wriggling, guilt-ridden son, who would rather do anything than admit it.]
Is that right.
[That very much is not right, his flat tone suggests. Zevlor never minds verbally sparing with their little magistrate of a boy, but Kanan tires of it swiftly— and sometimes it's easier to cut to the chase.]
Try again. I think you know exactly why it's such a big deal.
[Oh, that doesn't sound like Fenris— though on the other hand, perhaps it isn't so far from the truth as it sounds. It's not as if the other boy is a saint; he can be plenty obnoxious (plenty vicious) when he wants to be. It doesn't take the largest leap of the imagination to picture Fenris bragging like that, whether out of defensiveness or sheer bravado.
His chin rests in his palm again, and while none of the disappointed air has left his expression, he is genuinely asking. Gods, it's going to be a long night piecing together the fragmented facts of this fight with Zevlor.]
And what were you telling him, exactly? That you wanted to practice? That you knew what you were doing?
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illithidnapped) wrote2025-05-31 06:45 pm
no subject
Gods above.]
I said a lot of things!!
[Which is true.
Ears pinned back, ankles shifting till they cross. Another glance elsewhere (he couldn't look at Kanan for gold or gods right now), and his next exhale turns sharp enough to cut.]
He knows I didn't mean it.
He can read fine now— that's how he does all the delivery unloading. He probably reads more than I do! It's not that big a deal.
no subject
Is that right.
[That very much is not right, his flat tone suggests. Zevlor never minds verbally sparing with their little magistrate of a boy, but Kanan tires of it swiftly— and sometimes it's easier to cut to the chase.]
Try again. I think you know exactly why it's such a big deal.
no subject
But Kanan he really did start it— bragging about the two of them, telling me how he knew everything there was to know about kissing because—
[**Author's note: the events recounted here are not accurate to true historical events, and do not represent the views of the writer.]
—well, you know!
He just wouldn't shut up even when I told him the same bloody thing over and over again, I couldn't take it anymore!
no subject
His chin rests in his palm again, and while none of the disappointed air has left his expression, he is genuinely asking. Gods, it's going to be a long night piecing together the fragmented facts of this fight with Zevlor.]
And what were you telling him, exactly? That you wanted to practice? That you knew what you were doing?
Or that you wanted to kiss him?