[Indeed, it is. It is odd, and it is uniquely terrible- to be frozen in time in the singular moment of the worst thing that had ever happened to you. ...That was, until things got even worse with Cazador himself. Tav had hardly scratched the surface of it. Yet he has seen the scars. And even those are horrifying.
But. The parasite, for all of the problems that presents, has enabled Astarion to make his escape. To be free of him- at least for now. Regardless of how many Gur trackers that were sent.
He lowers his head slightly, the slight breath of a laugh laced underneath his words.]
Let's. I'm finding I'm enjoying myself. And if we take our crossbows, we'll be fine. Mostly.
[Strange as it sounds, strange as it feels, there's a very understated joy in this. Not just in the fact that he gets to gaze down at someone oh so very beautiful as they half-doze upon his lap. Astarion is beautiful, after all. But as the night sky is dark and daytime sky is blue, that's a statement that's simply factual.
Instead, his contentment comes from the fact that the other appears entirely relaxed now. That simply sitting around and talking seems to be doing him some good. That for the first time in days, he does not seem to be preoccupied with being tracked, or in siphoning what information he can from the book found within the necromancer's basement.
Astarion must be somewhere closer to feeling contentment, too. Just the fact that Tav's not been (curtly) told to leave so far indicates as much. He turns quiet then, moving his hands away from Astarion's hair to lean back on his hands.
Some time passes. A minute? Ten? Who knows. Then...]
no subject
But. The parasite, for all of the problems that presents, has enabled Astarion to make his escape. To be free of him- at least for now. Regardless of how many Gur trackers that were sent.
He lowers his head slightly, the slight breath of a laugh laced underneath his words.]
Let's. I'm finding I'm enjoying myself. And if we take our crossbows, we'll be fine. Mostly.
[Strange as it sounds, strange as it feels, there's a very understated joy in this. Not just in the fact that he gets to gaze down at someone oh so very beautiful as they half-doze upon his lap. Astarion is beautiful, after all. But as the night sky is dark and daytime sky is blue, that's a statement that's simply factual.
Instead, his contentment comes from the fact that the other appears entirely relaxed now. That simply sitting around and talking seems to be doing him some good. That for the first time in days, he does not seem to be preoccupied with being tracked, or in siphoning what information he can from the book found within the necromancer's basement.
Astarion must be somewhere closer to feeling contentment, too. Just the fact that Tav's not been (curtly) told to leave so far indicates as much. He turns quiet then, moving his hands away from Astarion's hair to lean back on his hands.
Some time passes. A minute? Ten? Who knows. Then...]
Astarion?