[ Something about the way Astarion says master unsettles Gale, a stone sinking in his gut. The unwilling, unbreakable link between master and spawn is much debated in wizarding circles, magical in nature but wholly other. However had Astarion manage to escape?
Gale tells himself it hardly matters, when the question of whether a vengeful vampire lord will seek him out has been settled. As Mystra’s Chosen, he won scrapes and survived ambushes. This will be nothing different. ]
I’m sure. [ an echo that’s at once pleased and amused, informed by the now familiar rhythm of Astarion’s sweet lies. His wandering hands are also anticipated, yet no less destabilising for it. Gale’s heart rabbits in his chest, threatening to leap into his throat. ]
Luckily, my tressym takes great pleasure in ridding the lower levels of vermin — and she isn’t fond of sharing. [ not in matters of food or, well, Gale. She’ll not like a surprise visitor one bit, but she’s been spending half her days with Morena on account of his piss-poor company, so they’ve time to plan for that. As for Astarion’s diet…his proposal in the stuff of novels, the vampire relieving their victims of blood while they sleep. Distrust sharpens in his lidded gaze, even as he allows the chain to slacken once more.
He raises both hands to wrap gentle fingers around Astarion’s wrists, more touch than hold. He should guide them back and step away, lengthening the chain with a quick spell. Instead, he leans forward, attention dropping to Astarion’s mouth for a second too long to be academic. Silent calculations evident in his face. ]
You can take what you need from me only while I’m awake. [ Awake, he could have Astarion on his back in seconds with a thunderwave. Brown eyes searching, ] Any other parameters?
no subject
Gale tells himself it hardly matters, when the question of whether a vengeful vampire lord will seek him out has been settled. As Mystra’s Chosen, he won scrapes and survived ambushes. This will be nothing different. ]
I’m sure. [ an echo that’s at once pleased and amused, informed by the now familiar rhythm of Astarion’s sweet lies. His wandering hands are also anticipated, yet no less destabilising for it. Gale’s heart rabbits in his chest, threatening to leap into his throat. ]
Luckily, my tressym takes great pleasure in ridding the lower levels of vermin — and she isn’t fond of sharing. [ not in matters of food or, well, Gale. She’ll not like a surprise visitor one bit, but she’s been spending half her days with Morena on account of his piss-poor company, so they’ve time to plan for that. As for Astarion’s diet…his proposal in the stuff of novels, the vampire relieving their victims of blood while they sleep. Distrust sharpens in his lidded gaze, even as he allows the chain to slacken once more.
He raises both hands to wrap gentle fingers around Astarion’s wrists, more touch than hold. He should guide them back and step away, lengthening the chain with a quick spell. Instead, he leans forward, attention dropping to Astarion’s mouth for a second too long to be academic. Silent calculations evident in his face. ]
You can take what you need from me only while I’m awake. [ Awake, he could have Astarion on his back in seconds with a thunderwave. Brown eyes searching, ] Any other parameters?