[Astarion jerks for a moment as if stung. He's still not quite used to how well Morena picks up on his cues, or perhaps to having someone who cares enough to track his moods.]
What—? No, no my dear. He's done nothing wrong.
[There's a frantic moment where he feels caught, like he's given the wrong answer, his eyes darting to Morena's face to judge her anger. But when he finds none, it catches in his throat. He has nothing to fear, he shouldn't have anything to fear, not here.
But how much can he tell her? How much to reveal before she might find him too much of a burden for her dear son to bear, too much of a blight to welcome to such a picture perfect family? He swallows against the weight still settled in his throat, the unease still threading through his nerves.]
no subject
What—? No, no my dear. He's done nothing wrong.
[There's a frantic moment where he feels caught, like he's given the wrong answer, his eyes darting to Morena's face to judge her anger. But when he finds none, it catches in his throat. He has nothing to fear, he shouldn't have anything to fear, not here.
But how much can he tell her? How much to reveal before she might find him too much of a burden for her dear son to bear, too much of a blight to welcome to such a picture perfect family? He swallows against the weight still settled in his throat, the unease still threading through his nerves.]
I—was reminded of someone. By Lena.