🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

[mystracal]

tfln | invitations | and there was only one bed | undermountain alurlyath | what could be | blood bond | the price of freedom
it wore his face | dinner with morena dekarios | rediscovery

Comments

[sangwhine]

Ah, I was almost missing the call of those angry spirits. I'm sure we'll become reacquainted soon.

[He takes the book, setting it aside with the tome he was reading earlier before moving to where the bottle of wine is set out on the table with a two glasses. He sits on a cushion near it, taking the bottle and working it open before filling one glass and offering it to Gale.]

Here. To our mutual survival.

[mystracal]

To our mutual survival.

[He takes his glass and raises it in toast before having himself a sip. The glass reveals a smile as it leaves his lips.]

Hm. Sweeter than I thought it'd be, but well worth the gold for the company.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion watches him drink before pouring a smaller amount into his own glass. He sets it aside without drinking.]

Careful with your flattery, my dear. You might give me ideas.

[mystracal]

It's flattery most earned in this case. You did get us back to camp, even if one of us had to make most of the journey on four legs.

[He nods toward Astarion, adjusting himself on the pillow he's taken as his seat. Time to get comfy.]

How is your side, by the way? Mended, I assume?

[sangwhine]

Much better, yes. I trust your rib is back in its proper place?

[He affects an artful lounge on his cushion, his attention entirely on Gale.]

[mystracal]

Right where it should be. The job so often falls to Shadowheart that I sometimes forget what an adept healer Halsin can be, when given the opportunity.

[sangwhine]

Oh? And how was it, feeling the "powers of nature" mend you?

[His voice drops for a moment into a mocking but startlingly accurate impression of their druid friend.]

[mystracal]

[The laugh that emerges from Gale is sincere and louder than he meant for it to be, but Astarion's impression is spot on.]

That's exactly the tone of voice he took as he figured out where to put his massive hands, trying to heal exactly the right spot. It was like covering a coin with an entire quilt.

[sangwhine]

Mmh, I do wonder sometimes at how those massive hands would feel.

[mystracal]

If you must know, he has a surprisingly gentle touch.

[He has another sip. There's a nice, nutty flavor that undercuts some of the sweetness, and he does enjoy that now that his teeth aren't rattling quite as much from the initial taste.]

As an elf, of course. I imagine his technique would be quite different in his more preferred form.

[sangwhine]

[Notably, Astarion hasn't had a drink yet. His fingers dance across the rim of his glass as he listens to Gale talk.]

The feeling of claws on your skin would be quite a different experience.

[mystracal]

[Excited to chatter with good company in the relative safety of their camp after the long night, Gale doesn't notice Astarion's distinct lack of drinking just yet. He's feeling more confident that they can truly amend what rapport they had - and perhaps even build upon it? - by the minute.]

I'd say so. He has a tent, but I've seen him leave it from time to time, right around the darkest hours of night. He shifts into that bear form, lumbers out to the trees at the edge of camp to find one he likes, then climbs up to a branch that will serve as his bed for the evening.

[He describes those movements with some key gestures of his hands, emphasizing the druid's bulk and particular gait.]

It looks as though someone balanced a boulder on a single plank of wood. One night, I expect him to come crashing down.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion gives a laugh at the mental image, shaking his head.]

Oh, to be so lucky to witness that moment. Though I imagine I'd be quite upset by his reaction. He takes far too many things in stride. That does dull the entertainment value.

[mystracal]

You do seem to favor getting a rise out of people.

[He says that with a casual smirk as he takes another sip.]

[sangwhine]

Guilty as charged.

[He almost adds "in more ways than one," but the words stall out on his lips. Instead he favors Gale with a smile, reaching to take a sip from his glass to cover the pause.]

[mystracal]

[Oh, he likes that smile. He likes it quite a lot.

He sets his glass to the side.]

I wanted to, erm. Talk about the other night, if we could. While the spirits are still high.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion sets his glass aside as well, his posture straightening up slightly.]

What part of it?

[mystracal]

You know which part.

[He takes a second to put his words together, trying to be more concise, clearer than usual.]

Now that I've had some time to clear my head, I just wanted to say that... I don't blame you for how you acted. You were desperate. Resigned to how things had to be. I've been there, in a way. Not the same, but a similar sort of hurt.

[sangwhine]

It was less resignation and more instinct.

[He shifts, his posture closing off somewhat, but he still keeps his gaze on Gale.]

I couldn't see any other way forward, any other path. You don't deserve that, though.

[mystracal]

[Gale's posture remains open, despite the difficult subject.]

Neither do you.

[sangwhine]

[His expression is pained for a moment. He turns away from Gale, his gaze fixing somewhere on the ground a short distance away.]

I don't know how to think of myself that way. As something more than an object of use. It's not something I've even thought possible for the past two hundred years.

[mystracal]

It is possible, Astarion. And, if you would—

[His eyes flick upward to meet his companion's.]

I'd like you to start with me.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion is visibly startled, looking up to meet Gale's gaze.]

Really? Truly.

[mystracal]

[Gale smiles, his grin pushing at his eyes.]

Yes. So long as you're willing to trust me from now on, and be honest. You needn't worry about me seeing you as anything less than a person. You make your own choices now, and those shouldn't include who you have to throw yourself at just to feel safe.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion can't help but smile in response, a warmth fluttering in his chest.]

I'd like that. Starting with you. Having something real.