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[thirsted]

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ASTARION

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[thirsted]

[ Astarion wonders, first, if his mother and father felt anything at all, when their son went missing. His turning had been so absolute, such a point of no return, that the idea of letting them know had either never crossed his mind or never been an option.

He thinks, second, of the curse of knowing. Of knowing something is bound to happen, of being powerless to stop it. It's that inability, at the end of the day, that makes it so horrible to bear. ]

I'm sorry.

[ Because what else is there to say? What other sentiment truly matters? ]

I hope, for both your sakes, that the prophecy bears out to be false. Or that you both forget it, as cold as that sounds, and experience his passing as you were meant to.

For now, at least, we will catch the wolves, and bring this accursed game to its end.

[unapparent]

[ it’s the right thing to say. the only thing to say. the thing she has oft wanted to hear and rarely been given: acknowledgement of her miserable lot. ]

It will soon be my turn to tire of thanking you, Astarion.

Call upon me if you’ve need of me.
And perhaps if you don’t.
I should like to share our time by choice, when we next meet.

[thirsted]

Nothing would delight me more.

Humor me one thing, before then — and I promise, this has nothing to do with the game — have you a favored scent? Perhaps something you like, something that comforts you, whatever category or metric you wish.

[unapparent]

I suppose I prefer the scent fresh air, when it smells more of flowers or rain than anything else. I come from a region much greener than our capitol, famed for gardens far grander than the Balfours’ own. Stretches of freesia, gardenias, lavender, and foxglove seemingly go on forever.

[thirsted]

[ There is a part of him that understands: this is what they stole from you. Wide open spaces — freedom — in exchange for the cold confines of a castle. ]

You paint an enviable picture, my dear. Thank you for indulging me.

Later, then. Once the wind has changed and the clouds have lifted, we'll rejoin each other's company.