[Astarion understands the weight of the gesture without the need for words. Even before the night's discussion, the mark of Mystra still left on Gale was something he'd prefer to see done away with. Gale owes nothing to her except his magic. Everything about him that is mortal, that makes him the man he is, has no right to bear her symbol.
With deft fingers, Astarion slips the earring free, his touch a whisper against Gale's skin. Once it's loose, he holds it for a moment, sharp star points pressing into the pads of his fingers, before letting it drop to the pile of clothes gathered at their feet.
When he speaks it's in a low voice, thick with desire and a small tremor of trepidation.]
Be careful what you offer, Gale Dekarios. You know what power can do to a man.
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With deft fingers, Astarion slips the earring free, his touch a whisper against Gale's skin. Once it's loose, he holds it for a moment, sharp star points pressing into the pads of his fingers, before letting it drop to the pile of clothes gathered at their feet.
When he speaks it's in a low voice, thick with desire and a small tremor of trepidation.]
Be careful what you offer, Gale Dekarios. You know what power can do to a man.