[ There are a number of things he would know, if he could.
His companions, on the whole, had been reticent where their pasts were concerned - and that was their right. He doesn't think any of them had Astarion's nervous and timid secrecy. It was something he'd thought he understood, once he'd learned one truth of him - of course he would be cagey and secretive of his past, lest someone discover his undeath.
Not that he'd expected that would be the complete end of it, as vampires so often left a trail of broken lives behind them. But there had been a sense of false understanding in him then; that this would be, perhaps, the biggest secret, and like a plug pulled, the rest might come more easily. Not so. Instead, it seemed to Godfrey that some new tragedy tangled there to stopper things again. There seemed to him a multitude of unfairness, of horrible sadness and trauma, almost too much to keep so neatly contained in such a body.
And it was, of course, his right to contain it all. Astarion owed him nothing - certainly not a look at what hurt him. But it has been a challenge to keep this barrier in place when he sees the pain so clearly as he does now - the mere reminder of a tranquil and domestic life souring his mood entirely. Questions well up in him; he wants to know what about his anecdote, specifically, had tugged his mood downward so. He wants to know if there's anything happier he remembers - any scraps from before his life had been yanked from him. He wants to know what his aspirations were then, he wants to know what he was like, what he dreamt of, what he wanted, who he knew.
Godfrey wants to help, and in the case of a man like Astarion, that's a detrimental urge to give in to. The more questions he asked, the further he would push him.
So, instead, he swallows them back and smiles. ]
There need not be anything at all. [ Godfrey picks himself up from his bedroll and draws a little closer. ] Restlessness without cause is just as much a detriment as the sort that leads your thoughts somewhere. I can make my presence a quieter one, if that would better suit you.
sorry for the wait!!
His companions, on the whole, had been reticent where their pasts were concerned - and that was their right. He doesn't think any of them had Astarion's nervous and timid secrecy. It was something he'd thought he understood, once he'd learned one truth of him - of course he would be cagey and secretive of his past, lest someone discover his undeath.
Not that he'd expected that would be the complete end of it, as vampires so often left a trail of broken lives behind them. But there had been a sense of false understanding in him then; that this would be, perhaps, the biggest secret, and like a plug pulled, the rest might come more easily. Not so. Instead, it seemed to Godfrey that some new tragedy tangled there to stopper things again. There seemed to him a multitude of unfairness, of horrible sadness and trauma, almost too much to keep so neatly contained in such a body.
And it was, of course, his right to contain it all. Astarion owed him nothing - certainly not a look at what hurt him. But it has been a challenge to keep this barrier in place when he sees the pain so clearly as he does now - the mere reminder of a tranquil and domestic life souring his mood entirely. Questions well up in him; he wants to know what about his anecdote, specifically, had tugged his mood downward so. He wants to know if there's anything happier he remembers - any scraps from before his life had been yanked from him. He wants to know what his aspirations were then, he wants to know what he was like, what he dreamt of, what he wanted, who he knew.
Godfrey wants to help, and in the case of a man like Astarion, that's a detrimental urge to give in to. The more questions he asked, the further he would push him.
So, instead, he swallows them back and smiles. ]
There need not be anything at all. [ Godfrey picks himself up from his bedroll and draws a little closer. ] Restlessness without cause is just as much a detriment as the sort that leads your thoughts somewhere. I can make my presence a quieter one, if that would better suit you.