[ Again, Gale wonders if heโs misstepped โ but no, he thinks, this is just the way of Astarion (and Shadowheart and Laeโzel). Not so tactile as Wyll, who might place a hand on his shoulder, or encouraging as Karlach, who would rouse him with a word. The cat that edges forward, only to leap back (lingering all the same, not yet darting out of sight).
Gale recalls, too, the way Astarion kept glancing back at him while they roamed the faire, as if he might disappear. Today, he hasnโt done much to dissuade him of that concern. A poor showing. One he resolves to improve upon, for Astarionโs sake more than his own. Itโs always been easier, for Gale, to do something for another. ]
Youโve my word, [ a hand over his heart, as he catches Astarionโs eye before clasping them at his back and walking through the door. ] particularly when Iโm told the menu for tonight is rather more substantial than potatoes and vinegared wine.
๐
Gale recalls, too, the way Astarion kept glancing back at him while they roamed the faire, as if he might disappear. Today, he hasnโt done much to dissuade him of that concern. A poor showing. One he resolves to improve upon, for Astarionโs sake more than his own. Itโs always been easier, for Gale, to do something for another. ]
Youโve my word, [ a hand over his heart, as he catches Astarionโs eye before clasping them at his back and walking through the door. ] particularly when Iโm told the menu for tonight is rather more substantial than potatoes and vinegared wine.