[It’s a relief, those words. Hearing it at last from someone other than himself and his own ceaselessly feigned bravado. Understanding, unforced under the weight of Fenris' stare, and it sticks beneath his ribs like held breath. Like the pang of being seen for the first time out of Cazador's shadow, pulsebeat faint as it fumbles.
That subsequent segue from ancient aches to fresher opportunity finding its footing with such ease, and Astarion's expression brightens within its span; weariness peeling away like paint.
The last sip of wine offered in rapidly forgotten gratitude— which isn’t erased so much as pressed to the side for a little while, making room for Astarion, the Rifter once more.]
The latter, I think. [Because he needs coin. Always. And not just for petty vanity.
A truth that now— he’s certain— needs no explanation between them.] Though I do wonder.
Do they try to cheat you out of a proper bounty as much as they cheat me?
no subject
That subsequent segue from ancient aches to fresher opportunity finding its footing with such ease, and Astarion's expression brightens within its span; weariness peeling away like paint.
The last sip of wine offered in rapidly forgotten gratitude— which isn’t erased so much as pressed to the side for a little while, making room for Astarion, the Rifter once more.]
The latter, I think. [Because he needs coin. Always. And not just for petty vanity.
A truth that now— he’s certain— needs no explanation between them.] Though I do wonder.
Do they try to cheat you out of a proper bounty as much as they cheat me?