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[ Astarion doesn't like the idea of sharing too much of himself.
It is easier to keep people at arm's length, to allow himself the distance. When your entire world is only for the purpose of seduction and murder, it because easier to make sure you never get too close to someone, that you never permit them to see behind the walls you put up. The notion of not having that measure of control over a situation is a little alarming for Astarion, who would much rather play the game of it than have anything real.
That's what he had thought for a long time, at least, but perhaps some things are beginning to change his mind.
There's surprise about the situation, that a Paladin hadn't simply culled him where he stood, that the revelation of him being a vampire spawn hadn't been enough to offer divine retribution, but he can be thankful for what little life he has that remains. Godfrey has not killed him yet, and that might well have to be enough for Astarion. Still, the possibility of a future, of becoming stronger, of being more... It is a heady desire to ignore, even if a small part of him thinks he should.
Shaking his head, Astarion hums absently, as if it doesn't matter at all. ]
It doesn't bother me at all. Sometimes it's quite nice to hear some voices in the silence. Ones that aren't screaming, anyway.
It is easier to keep people at arm's length, to allow himself the distance. When your entire world is only for the purpose of seduction and murder, it because easier to make sure you never get too close to someone, that you never permit them to see behind the walls you put up. The notion of not having that measure of control over a situation is a little alarming for Astarion, who would much rather play the game of it than have anything real.
That's what he had thought for a long time, at least, but perhaps some things are beginning to change his mind.
There's surprise about the situation, that a Paladin hadn't simply culled him where he stood, that the revelation of him being a vampire spawn hadn't been enough to offer divine retribution, but he can be thankful for what little life he has that remains. Godfrey has not killed him yet, and that might well have to be enough for Astarion. Still, the possibility of a future, of becoming stronger, of being more... It is a heady desire to ignore, even if a small part of him thinks he should.
Shaking his head, Astarion hums absently, as if it doesn't matter at all. ]
It doesn't bother me at all. Sometimes it's quite nice to hear some voices in the silence. Ones that aren't screaming, anyway.
"Very well."
It matters little to Godfrey, truthfully, why it is Astarion is reticent to wait. Whether this is a tactical decision on his part, some kind of emotional reflex, or simply a grab at more control. Whether he thinks the rays of dawn will evaporate Godfrey's good will as they do the darkness of night. Whether Godfrey registers his concerns as sound or mere paranoia. All that matters is that he is reticent to wait; this is all Godfrey needs to know.
He plants his hands on his knees and pushes himself to his feet, exhaling as he rises. Godfrey regards him easily, blue eyes soft and kind.
"Then we spare ourselves the wait and speak with the others now." His face... it doesn't firm, not quite. This implies hardness, and Godfrey's expression is careful in this regard. But he does look suddenly serious, before he continues; "Tell me this, my friend, and speak true; what can I do to help ease this conversation?"
It matters little to Godfrey, truthfully, why it is Astarion is reticent to wait. Whether this is a tactical decision on his part, some kind of emotional reflex, or simply a grab at more control. Whether he thinks the rays of dawn will evaporate Godfrey's good will as they do the darkness of night. Whether Godfrey registers his concerns as sound or mere paranoia. All that matters is that he is reticent to wait; this is all Godfrey needs to know.
He plants his hands on his knees and pushes himself to his feet, exhaling as he rises. Godfrey regards him easily, blue eyes soft and kind.
"Then we spare ourselves the wait and speak with the others now." His face... it doesn't firm, not quite. This implies hardness, and Godfrey's expression is careful in this regard. But he does look suddenly serious, before he continues; "Tell me this, my friend, and speak true; what can I do to help ease this conversation?"
This requires not even a moment's thought.
"Nothing - literally nothing, just - keep your distance, darling. I was going to tell you. All of you," he adds, looking faintly aggrieved. "Frankly, I don't need this to look any more like I've been marched over there with my arm twisted than it already will."
Godfrey has no wish to force Astarion to accept his idea of help, of course. Not with something as intensely personal and daunting as this. He was here to help, not to push him.
This does not help the way that insistence squirms in his gut, however, that reflexive nervousness as his assistance is rebuffed. The motion doesn't offend him - Astarion has more than his share of reasons to remain evasive and cagey on the subject, and doubly so, considering who was attached to this helping hand being offered to him. The pervading feeling is concern. Godfrey's plan was to advocate for him to their companions, to address their misgivings and concerns directly instead of forcing Astarion to handle them. Vampires are known for nothing if not their social trickery, their ability to charm and deceive. He's perfectly aware of how easily the conversation could get out of hand, and how they might discard out of hand anything that Astarion could say to them.
But also, he knows that insisting and pushing the point would hardly help matters. Astarion has the right to decide his role in this conversation, far more than Godfrey does. He nods once.
"All right. I will speak only if my voice is needed."
With that, the matter is settled.
"I suppose, then, that one of us should return to the fire before the other."
This does not help the way that insistence squirms in his gut, however, that reflexive nervousness as his assistance is rebuffed. The motion doesn't offend him - Astarion has more than his share of reasons to remain evasive and cagey on the subject, and doubly so, considering who was attached to this helping hand being offered to him. The pervading feeling is concern. Godfrey's plan was to advocate for him to their companions, to address their misgivings and concerns directly instead of forcing Astarion to handle them. Vampires are known for nothing if not their social trickery, their ability to charm and deceive. He's perfectly aware of how easily the conversation could get out of hand, and how they might discard out of hand anything that Astarion could say to them.
But also, he knows that insisting and pushing the point would hardly help matters. Astarion has the right to decide his role in this conversation, far more than Godfrey does. He nods once.
"All right. I will speak only if my voice is needed."
With that, the matter is settled.
"I suppose, then, that one of us should return to the fire before the other."
"They absolutely should," Astarion says briskly, and starts closing the distance between their privacy and the campfire before Godfrey can have any thoughts about volunteering.
The revelation is actually something of an anticlimax.
Lae'zel seemed to have already known, and says some things about his scent that he feels are overly descriptive coming from someone with hardly any nose. Halsin, likewise, doesn't seem surprised and Astarion can only imagine he learned it from some adorable woodland creature who outran him recently. Shadowheart has apparently burnt through most of her racism while dealing with Lae'zel, and therefore doesn't care about the predator in their midst, so long as he predates elsewhere. Gale doesn't have a foot to stand on re. an unusual dietary habit to sate an unnatural hunger, and so keeps his mouth shut. Karlach is fine with it - what's one reasonably courteous vampire, after ten years in Avernus? - and Wyll at the very least affects fineness to better keep the peace with Karlach.
And then the question is asked about Godfrey's thoughts on the subject, which has Astarion calling over his shoulder:
"Darling! Please come over here and reassure the masses that I haven't put any holes in you."
The revelation is actually something of an anticlimax.
Lae'zel seemed to have already known, and says some things about his scent that he feels are overly descriptive coming from someone with hardly any nose. Halsin, likewise, doesn't seem surprised and Astarion can only imagine he learned it from some adorable woodland creature who outran him recently. Shadowheart has apparently burnt through most of her racism while dealing with Lae'zel, and therefore doesn't care about the predator in their midst, so long as he predates elsewhere. Gale doesn't have a foot to stand on re. an unusual dietary habit to sate an unnatural hunger, and so keeps his mouth shut. Karlach is fine with it - what's one reasonably courteous vampire, after ten years in Avernus? - and Wyll at the very least affects fineness to better keep the peace with Karlach.
And then the question is asked about Godfrey's thoughts on the subject, which has Astarion calling over his shoulder:
"Darling! Please come over here and reassure the masses that I haven't put any holes in you."
[ stand by while he tries to word this respectfully. ]
I think I do not quite feel that you've been deceitful. Not in this regard.
But this teasing is your way, or it has seemed to be. You've not hurt me by this, of course... but I suppose that I've come away with the impression that you've thought me an absurdity.
I hadn't anticipated that I would interest you. That I could interest you, I suppose.
I think I do not quite feel that you've been deceitful. Not in this regard.
But this teasing is your way, or it has seemed to be. You've not hurt me by this, of course... but I suppose that I've come away with the impression that you've thought me an absurdity.
I hadn't anticipated that I would interest you. That I could interest you, I suppose.
Darling, what part of you could be uninteresting? Your deep history and faith aside, you offer a very appealing figure. A man could swoon to be held in your arms. And to know that capturing your eye would mean one is properly courted only sweetens the deal.v
[ This one comes quickly and decisively; ] I am in my tent.
[ Walls of cream-coloured canvas, tassled and trimmed and painted in golden holy symbols. Books, scripture, pillows. A child's drawing pinned to one post and a heavy stone-cutter's axe leaning against the other. The privacy seems sensible at first; he doesn't spare a thought to the implication of it.
Instead, he waits in tense silence, and tries to force his nerves to quiet. ]
[ Walls of cream-coloured canvas, tassled and trimmed and painted in golden holy symbols. Books, scripture, pillows. A child's drawing pinned to one post and a heavy stone-cutter's axe leaning against the other. The privacy seems sensible at first; he doesn't spare a thought to the implication of it.
Instead, he waits in tense silence, and tries to force his nerves to quiet. ]
[Well, that makes it easy. It's not long at all before Astarion's pushing the entrance to Godfrey'sv tent open, stepping inside and tying it closed behind him. He turns to face Godfrey then with an easy smile, spreading both hands out before him in offering.]
Here I am, darling.
Here I am, darling.
[ Godfrey is already climbing to his feet once he sees the shadow of him approach the flap.
Here he is. With hardly any time to array his words, to cage his thoughts, to petition his Lord for guidance - here he is, easy as ever. Speaking in the same low and breathy murmur.
Godfrey feels his breath catch in his throat. Cerulean eyes flicker up to touch Astarion's, then away, as he gingerly takes one of his hands in his own, drapes his cool fingers over the edge of his palm.
The pad of his thumb grazes his pale fingers, and he glances back up to him, smiling wanly. He takes a tight breath, and he speaks gently. ]
Come-- please, Astarion. Make yourself comfortable. [ He turns his body to the side to avail Astarion the cluster of pillows slumped in his small tent - blues, lavenders, and pinks in a soft pile.
He leads him those few short steps by his hand, speaking slowly and deliberately as he does so, choosing his words with care-- ] I... well. I have some things I would say, before we allow this to... proceed, I suppose, any farther.
Here he is. With hardly any time to array his words, to cage his thoughts, to petition his Lord for guidance - here he is, easy as ever. Speaking in the same low and breathy murmur.
Godfrey feels his breath catch in his throat. Cerulean eyes flicker up to touch Astarion's, then away, as he gingerly takes one of his hands in his own, drapes his cool fingers over the edge of his palm.
The pad of his thumb grazes his pale fingers, and he glances back up to him, smiling wanly. He takes a tight breath, and he speaks gently. ]
Come-- please, Astarion. Make yourself comfortable. [ He turns his body to the side to avail Astarion the cluster of pillows slumped in his small tent - blues, lavenders, and pinks in a soft pile.
He leads him those few short steps by his hand, speaking slowly and deliberately as he does so, choosing his words with care-- ] I... well. I have some things I would say, before we allow this to... proceed, I suppose, any farther.
[Oh, but Astarion wasn't expecting the tenderness of Godfrey's touch. It only startles him for a moment, and thankfully Godfrey himself seems quite distracted with his own thoughts. He plasters it over with a soft smile quickly enough, curling his fingers around Godfrey's with a soft squeeze.
He lets himself be led, settling down into the cushions while keeping Godfrey's hand held in his.]
Go on, dear. I'm all pointy ears.
He lets himself be led, settling down into the cushions while keeping Godfrey's hand held in his.]
Go on, dear. I'm all pointy ears.
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