[It's the nature of young things still gathering their bearings. Still learning what has weight and where and just how much matters— not just to themselves (irritation prickling along the back of Astarion's neck, and yet for what? Just because he's angry and protective doesn't make Elise the villain in this story when she bites back at their shamelessly unsubtle overtures: one foot in the antics they've grown up around and breathed in like a second language, the other in their own oh-so-serious hearts), but to those around them it's not particularly innocuous either, their flirting and atticborne howling and diminutive disturbances. Of course they're thrilling in each other, self-aware most often when perceived, but the execution is so so heavy handed, and their perspectives capped below the knees (Fenris significantly less so, but still).
Elise isn't wrong Astarion's easier to rile, in short. For him, this circling is deathly serious. A kitten puffing up its fur in mortal outrage over nothing but a handful of lazy, listless shots across the bow.]
I'd be more interested if everyone you consorted with was of Fenris' caliber, but I don't see them lining up around the block. Run out of paying clients willing to shell out for your goods?
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illithidnapped) wrote2025-05-31 06:45 pm
1/
Elise isn't wrong Astarion's easier to rile, in short. For him, this circling is deathly serious. A kitten puffing up its fur in mortal outrage over nothing but a handful of lazy, listless shots across the bow.]
I'd be more interested if everyone you consorted with was of Fenris' caliber, but I don't see them lining up around the block. Run out of paying clients willing to shell out for your goods?
Having to resort to—