[ The nicknames that he gives her are so sweet; the thought comes to her mind unbidden, unable to think more of it as she slips into the room, head turning to check over her shoulder as she does. It is a frightening thing, to be afraid wherever she goes, to be unsure of what might happen if she dares to blink. Even here, in the safety of Astarion's space, the sanctuary of his room, she feels the ever-present threat of it all baring down on her.
Hovering for a moment, unsure of herself, Lauralae swallows. There's an instinctive urge to step forward, to wrap her arms around him and burrow into him, to find that level of safety, but she does not know if it is welcome. She remains unsure of herself, of what people want to accept from her, as if they might spurn or shun her. Even if he welcomed her, the threat of being the victim of a harsh touch and cruel word stays her hand.
It had happened before. She had lost so much.
Eventually, she steps forward, reaching out to offer her fingers for Shadowheart to sniff, should she please, as if the chicken was a dog before she pets her gently, lifting her skirts to offer her ankles.
She even leans down, language shifting to little clucks as she greets the chicken in her own tongue. ]
There is no prize worth this much blood.
[ Turning her gaze back to Astarion, she shudders out a sigh. ]
no subject
Hovering for a moment, unsure of herself, Lauralae swallows. There's an instinctive urge to step forward, to wrap her arms around him and burrow into him, to find that level of safety, but she does not know if it is welcome. She remains unsure of herself, of what people want to accept from her, as if they might spurn or shun her. Even if he welcomed her, the threat of being the victim of a harsh touch and cruel word stays her hand.
It had happened before. She had lost so much.
Eventually, she steps forward, reaching out to offer her fingers for Shadowheart to sniff, should she please, as if the chicken was a dog before she pets her gently, lifting her skirts to offer her ankles.
She even leans down, language shifting to little clucks as she greets the chicken in her own tongue. ]
There is no prize worth this much blood.
[ Turning her gaze back to Astarion, she shudders out a sigh. ]
I wish to protect you.