[ It's almost too easy, really; all he has to do is draw this out, and he can practically see Gale begin to vibrate with how much he wants to discuss the literature. He steps back inside his tent to pick the book up, checking to make sure it's still in good condition - it is - before he returns, holding it out with a soft twitch of his smile. More deliberate waiting, more deliberate teasing, because it is just so fun.
He waits, and waits, and then, of course, Gale bursts, and Astarion can't help huffing a little laugh. ]
There are far more enjoyable things to drag out of me.
[ Flirt, flirt, just because he can. He sighs, almost rolling his eyes but resisting the urge. ]
[ The anticipation is so excruciating that by the time Astarion finally admits his enjoyment, Gale practically ignites in excitement. ]
Yes! I knew it.
[ He bursts into a delighted grin, feeling very proud of himself. For a moment, he's all but patting himself on the back — before he realizes just how very much he's being and pulls back, straightening up a little and clearing his throat. He can't suppress the self-congratulatory smile on his face as he reaches out to take the book back, though.
Suffice it to say, he's very happy indeed. ]
You know, this is the part in a pleasant conversation where you might compliment my taste.
[ He doesn't think Astarion will do it on his own, so he'll have to try and browbeat him into it instead. ]
[ It's like giving a child something sweet before bedtime, isn't it? ]
Of course, because your taste is so impeccable.
[ It's so tedious, watching him be fuelled by such delight, and if Astarion wasn't enjoying it, just the smallest amount he might be a little more sour about it. Thankfully, he manages to force a little smile on his face, waving his hand. It also helps that Gale is attempting to restrain himself just a little bit, which eases some of his irritation.
Just like a child. ]
It was fine. I enjoyed the read, despite the predictability of the plot, and the characters were fine.
[ Gale inspects the book thoroughly, flipping through the pages looking for rips, stains, or Gods forbid, blood — he hopes Astarion had the presence of mind not to take his meals anywhere near it. All seems to be in order, and his smile only grows... only for his joy to be unceremoniously stomped on by the word 'fine'. Quite possibly one of the worst words in the Common language, as far as Gale's concerned.
He glances up from the book, scoffing in disbelief. ]
'Fine'? Fine.
[ He shakes his head, disappointed. ]
You've every word in our vast language to paint a picture of your thoughts, and you choose 'fine'.
[ Sometimes, he wonders if Astarion is purposefully trying to irritate or if it just comes naturally to him. He snaps the book shut, holding it to his chest. ]
Tell me, then. Which part of it was the most fine?
[ He thinks he should be offended at the way that Gale immediately examines the book, as if Astarion would dare harm and as if he hadn't been watching the entire time the book had been read. It's almost enough irritation to make the gleeful feeling of joy from Gale's reaction dissipate, but some things can't be ignored. He almost claps his hands together with his excitement.
It's so easy. ]
That is what I said. Are you having issues with your hearing? It must be all that terrible, loud magic you do.
[ Painfully easy. He doesn't have to try, and unfortunately that makes some of his excitement drip away. ]
Yes, because it was the word most likely to have you huffing like a toddler, and I was right.
I do not 'huff like a toddler'. It's more so a dignified sigh in the face of incorrigible behavior — if you must know, [ he says, a deliberate copy of Astarion simply to be, well, incorrigible.
Astarion may be tailor-made to perfectly get his goat, but that just makes Gale want him to praise the book (and, by proxy, Gale for choosing it) all the more. He should be downright effusive right now. Actually, it's quite rude that he isn't. ]
And the characters? Perhaps you might share with the class what made them so fine.
Yes, yes, I've spent enough time with arrogant vampires to recognise a huff, thank you very much.
[ As novel as it might be to tease and nudge Gale, to cause him problem upon problem, he does have to admit that the book was a decent recommendation. He can't exactly lie about having enjoyed it, not when he had, and he doubts he would be entirely believed anyway.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he sighs instead. ]
The main character was tolerable, given the fact that all I could picture was you, thanks to your determination to compare yourself. It was easy enough to figure out the conclusion, though I believe that was intentional for the more wise of readers. Plot points were written with care.
[ His expression twists into one of frustration. ]
[ Ah, 'tolerable' — truly the refrain of Gale's life. He resolves to take it in stride. There are many great things in this world that are merely tolerable to those who haven't the inclination to understand them. He likes to think of himself as one of those great things. An acquired taste, like a fine wine. Or perhaps a particularly pungent cheese.
Despite Astarion's rather dispassionate review, he finds himself glowing with the delight of a job well done. He thinks he's known Astarion long enough to know this is probably as gushing as his evaluation is going to get. In Astarionese, he imagines this is probably something like, 'Oh, Gale, this was a life-changing experience. You're the smartest, most interesting person in the entire world.'
Something like that. He may have used a little bit of artistic license, but the sentiment is surely there. ]
Happy? [ Obviously. It's written all over his face, but he makes a poor attempt at acting disinterested. ] I suppose I'm... 'fine'.
[ Maybe Astarion had a point about him acting like a toddler, but he won't be examining that. ]
Have you any feedback for next time, then?
[ He stares with expectant sincerity, having already decided on his own that, of course, there will be a next time. The possibility that Astarion wouldn't want to be book buddies hasn't even crossed his mind. Despite the worry for his book's safety, the endless anticipation, and Astarion's irritating review... it was fun. ]
[ If anyone else was to hear their conversation, they would surely think that Astarion is being a deliberate asshole - and maybe he is, going out of his way to poke and prod and upset Gale. It does make it feel too easy, sometimes, the way that he reacts, the determination to have Astarion say something he's not willing to offer. Gale is open and honest in his feelings in a way that Astarion simply cannot be; he has been forced into making sure that he was never vulnerable, never at risk.
... There is something rather refreshing about his keen energy when Astarion gives him a taste of praise, something that he could indulge in were he a worse person, but he tucks that away and keeps it to himself.
Arms crossing again, leaning forward, he speaks as if all of this were a terrible secret. ]
Then you understand what I meant with the word. I am glad you understand.
[ If he's offended by the use of his own phrase, he keeps it to himself, not even considering making a point of it. There are better ways to torment. ]
Is there going to be a next time? Do you intend to give me more of your library to indulge in, Gale? How daring of you.
[ It does feel strangely intimate, offering something that is clearly so important to him. ]
[ Astarion treated Gale's book gently. He actually read it. He was vexing and entirely withholding, but if Gale's honest with himself, that only makes the challenge of drawing kudos out of him all the sweeter. The way he sees it, there's no reason not to continue. And, of course, he wants to. Since isolating himself in his tower, it's been a painfully long time since he's had real social interaction; even Astarion's deliberately irritating ways are a balm for loneliness. ]
You know, I'm more daring than you give me credit for, [ he says, a little bitter at how milquetoast Astarion must find him.
The doubt Astarion casts on continuing creates an embarrassment that wasn't there before, and frankly shouldn't be there — it's just reading. Gale's grip on the book tightens like a security blanket. ]
I'd like there to be a next time. If you'd be so inclined.
[ Astarion does feel a little... Touched at the notion of being so trusted. The idea of Gale being willing to share more of his library is not what he had expected, especially when the first time had been a favour for a favour. The fact that there might be more literature does capture his interest, because he has been terribly bored over the last few weeks of their journey together. ]
I will believe it when I see it. [ Arms still crossed over his chest, almost defensive, Astarion watches and waits.
... And is rewarded. He sighs. ]
Very well. Astound me with another choice, then, and I will grant you my judgement.
Do you always sit back and merely wait for astonishment to drop in your lap without any input from yourself?
[ That's right, he's calling Astarion out. Thrilled as he is to continue the world's tiniest book club, he refuses to do all of the work himself. This is now a two-way street, whether Astarion wants it to be or not. Gale is stubborn enough to make it so. ]
You've clearly... opinions, however lukewarm. Surely you can help guide me in the right direction by sharing a few more.
[ It's the least he can do. You know, after the whole 'fine' debacle. ]
What is it that you like to partake in? Tales of dashing warriors? Bloody revenge? Perhaps all this time you've hidden a predilection for romance. [ No, he imagines not. ]
Mostly. There wasn't a lot of time for the investigation of one's own astonishment, before.
[ He's trying not to dwell too much on the whole "stuck in a mansion for two hundred years at the mercy of a sire who used him as a sexual object to lure food back for him to feast upon" aspect of his history, but it is difficult not to.
Scoffing a little noise, Astarion waves a hand. As if he would read something as pedestrian as romance. ]
Adventure, I suppose. Intrigue, something with a little bite to it. Romance is all well and good when you're not living it on a day-to-day basis.
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He waits, and waits, and then, of course, Gale bursts, and Astarion can't help huffing a little laugh. ]
There are far more enjoyable things to drag out of me.
[ Flirt, flirt, just because he can. He sighs, almost rolling his eyes but resisting the urge. ]
Yes, alright. I liked it, are you happy?
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Yes! I knew it.
[ He bursts into a delighted grin, feeling very proud of himself. For a moment, he's all but patting himself on the back — before he realizes just how very much he's being and pulls back, straightening up a little and clearing his throat. He can't suppress the self-congratulatory smile on his face as he reaches out to take the book back, though.
Suffice it to say, he's very happy indeed. ]
You know, this is the part in a pleasant conversation where you might compliment my taste.
[ He doesn't think Astarion will do it on his own, so he'll have to try and browbeat him into it instead. ]
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Of course, because your taste is so impeccable.
[ It's so tedious, watching him be fuelled by such delight, and if Astarion wasn't enjoying it, just the smallest amount he might be a little more sour about it. Thankfully, he manages to force a little smile on his face, waving his hand. It also helps that Gale is attempting to restrain himself just a little bit, which eases some of his irritation.
Just like a child. ]
It was fine. I enjoyed the read, despite the predictability of the plot, and the characters were fine.
[ Which is high praise, really, from him. ]
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He glances up from the book, scoffing in disbelief. ]
'Fine'? Fine.
[ He shakes his head, disappointed. ]
You've every word in our vast language to paint a picture of your thoughts, and you choose 'fine'.
[ Sometimes, he wonders if Astarion is purposefully trying to irritate or if it just comes naturally to him. He snaps the book shut, holding it to his chest. ]
Tell me, then. Which part of it was the most fine?
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It's so easy. ]
That is what I said. Are you having issues with your hearing? It must be all that terrible, loud magic you do.
[ Painfully easy. He doesn't have to try, and unfortunately that makes some of his excitement drip away. ]
Yes, because it was the word most likely to have you huffing like a toddler, and I was right.
[ Crossing his arms, he scowls a little. ]
I enjoyed the ending, if you must know.
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I do not 'huff like a toddler'. It's more so a dignified sigh in the face of incorrigible behavior — if you must know, [ he says, a deliberate copy of Astarion simply to be, well, incorrigible.
Astarion may be tailor-made to perfectly get his goat, but that just makes Gale want him to praise the book (and, by proxy, Gale for choosing it) all the more. He should be downright effusive right now. Actually, it's quite rude that he isn't. ]
And the characters? Perhaps you might share with the class what made them so fine.
[ It's like pulling teeth. ]
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[ As novel as it might be to tease and nudge Gale, to cause him problem upon problem, he does have to admit that the book was a decent recommendation. He can't exactly lie about having enjoyed it, not when he had, and he doubts he would be entirely believed anyway.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he sighs instead. ]
The main character was tolerable, given the fact that all I could picture was you, thanks to your determination to compare yourself. It was easy enough to figure out the conclusion, though I believe that was intentional for the more wise of readers. Plot points were written with care.
[ His expression twists into one of frustration. ]
Happy?
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Despite Astarion's rather dispassionate review, he finds himself glowing with the delight of a job well done. He thinks he's known Astarion long enough to know this is probably as gushing as his evaluation is going to get. In Astarionese, he imagines this is probably something like, 'Oh, Gale, this was a life-changing experience. You're the smartest, most interesting person in the entire world.'
Something like that. He may have used a little bit of artistic license, but the sentiment is surely there. ]
Happy? [ Obviously. It's written all over his face, but he makes a poor attempt at acting disinterested. ] I suppose I'm... 'fine'.
[ Maybe Astarion had a point about him acting like a toddler, but he won't be examining that. ]
Have you any feedback for next time, then?
[ He stares with expectant sincerity, having already decided on his own that, of course, there will be a next time. The possibility that Astarion wouldn't want to be book buddies hasn't even crossed his mind. Despite the worry for his book's safety, the endless anticipation, and Astarion's irritating review... it was fun. ]
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... There is something rather refreshing about his keen energy when Astarion gives him a taste of praise, something that he could indulge in were he a worse person, but he tucks that away and keeps it to himself.
Arms crossing again, leaning forward, he speaks as if all of this were a terrible secret. ]
Then you understand what I meant with the word. I am glad you understand.
[ If he's offended by the use of his own phrase, he keeps it to himself, not even considering making a point of it. There are better ways to torment. ]
Is there going to be a next time? Do you intend to give me more of your library to indulge in, Gale? How daring of you.
[ It does feel strangely intimate, offering something that is clearly so important to him. ]
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You know, I'm more daring than you give me credit for, [ he says, a little bitter at how milquetoast Astarion must find him.
The doubt Astarion casts on continuing creates an embarrassment that wasn't there before, and frankly shouldn't be there — it's just reading. Gale's grip on the book tightens like a security blanket. ]
I'd like there to be a next time. If you'd be so inclined.
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I will believe it when I see it. [ Arms still crossed over his chest, almost defensive, Astarion watches and waits.
... And is rewarded. He sighs. ]
Very well. Astound me with another choice, then, and I will grant you my judgement.
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Do you always sit back and merely wait for astonishment to drop in your lap without any input from yourself?
[ That's right, he's calling Astarion out. Thrilled as he is to continue the world's tiniest book club, he refuses to do all of the work himself. This is now a two-way street, whether Astarion wants it to be or not. Gale is stubborn enough to make it so. ]
You've clearly... opinions, however lukewarm. Surely you can help guide me in the right direction by sharing a few more.
[ It's the least he can do. You know, after the whole 'fine' debacle. ]
What is it that you like to partake in? Tales of dashing warriors? Bloody revenge? Perhaps all this time you've hidden a predilection for romance. [ No, he imagines not. ]
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[ He's trying not to dwell too much on the whole "stuck in a mansion for two hundred years at the mercy of a sire who used him as a sexual object to lure food back for him to feast upon" aspect of his history, but it is difficult not to.
Scoffing a little noise, Astarion waves a hand. As if he would read something as pedestrian as romance. ]
Adventure, I suppose. Intrigue, something with a little bite to it. Romance is all well and good when you're not living it on a day-to-day basis.
[ His version of it, at least. ]