[Gale's brow furrows, his chest aching as he continues to hold onto Astarion's hand, as though he'd vanish if he let go. He's not entirely certain that he won't, should his anger swallow him. The wizard is quiet as he thinks, unsure of what to say.
Some wounds take time to heal, he reminds himself inwardly, more time than anyone wants to admit. He's had years to work on his, and they often feel fresh as the day his heart was shattered. Astarion has only just gotten his freedom, and with Cazador still alive, it's tentative at best.
What he needs is patience - something Gale struggles with, given his tendency toward hubris. Astarion has to realize he needs time to determine who he is outside of Cazador's enslavement, while Gale needs to understand that not every problem is one he can reasonably solve, no matter how badly he'd like to.
He pulls in a breath, pushing it through him.]
Do you think you have to please me like this, Astarion?
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Some wounds take time to heal, he reminds himself inwardly, more time than anyone wants to admit. He's had years to work on his, and they often feel fresh as the day his heart was shattered. Astarion has only just gotten his freedom, and with Cazador still alive, it's tentative at best.
What he needs is patience - something Gale struggles with, given his tendency toward hubris. Astarion has to realize he needs time to determine who he is outside of Cazador's enslavement, while Gale needs to understand that not every problem is one he can reasonably solve, no matter how badly he'd like to.
He pulls in a breath, pushing it through him.]
Do you think you have to please me like this, Astarion?