[In good news, Gale seems to be more or less in one piece, save for a few surface wounds that didn't quite heal over. If the numerous slits along his clothes and visible cuts to the skin beneath are any indication, Orin had to fight the temptation to not tear him to ribbons, letting long, slender slices and the resulting blood sustain her as she waited for their true target.
His brow knits as he watches Astarion's expression shift, tears forming along his eyelashes; he stifles a groan as he pushes off the pedestal he's been placed upon, wrapping his arms around Astarion and pulling him into a tight embrace.]
I am a besotted, stupid man, but I'm your besotted, stupid man.
[He fights back the onset of emotion himself as he catches sight of the room all around them, and reality sets in: the Temple of Bhaal, and the stone beneath him, a sacrificial table. They were so, so close to losing one another.
He laces a hand through Astarion's hair, holding him tighter, tears welling in his own eyes.]
no subject
His brow knits as he watches Astarion's expression shift, tears forming along his eyelashes; he stifles a groan as he pushes off the pedestal he's been placed upon, wrapping his arms around Astarion and pulling him into a tight embrace.]
I am a besotted, stupid man, but I'm your besotted, stupid man.
[He fights back the onset of emotion himself as he catches sight of the room all around them, and reality sets in: the Temple of Bhaal, and the stone beneath him, a sacrificial table. They were so, so close to losing one another.
He laces a hand through Astarion's hair, holding him tighter, tears welling in his own eyes.]
I'm sorry.