[ A few responses are half-typed and then thought better of (not least for a flotilla of typos) as Astarion near-instantly begins making his way to the infirmary.
He feelsโ dizzy, almost. The house being a source of danger is one thing, but to find that danger redefined, and to find himself unwilling to confront one of the other guests, has him feeling as though he's been turned on an axis, a toy whipped one way and then the other for some higher power's amusement.
And he hates that, has always hated that โ to be in service to another.
He arrives at the infirmary not too long after Gale does, his hands held in fists at his sides, and a knit seemingly permanently installed in the set of his brow.
In a tone that falls halfway between relief and aimless frustration: ] Gods, it's a miracle you're not dead.
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He feelsโ dizzy, almost. The house being a source of danger is one thing, but to find that danger redefined, and to find himself unwilling to confront one of the other guests, has him feeling as though he's been turned on an axis, a toy whipped one way and then the other for some higher power's amusement.
And he hates that, has always hated that โ to be in service to another.
He arrives at the infirmary not too long after Gale does, his hands held in fists at his sides, and a knit seemingly permanently installed in the set of his brow.
In a tone that falls halfway between relief and aimless frustration: ] Gods, it's a miracle you're not dead.