[There it was, the thing that set him off. He didn't plan to raise his voice with her, but there was a desperate urgency to make this point clear. He didn't pay attention to the few heads that raised in their direction from the camp, what the others were thinking was completely irrelevant this time. Astarion wasn't strong enough to see yet another person he loved fall to Cazador and that left him without options.
At least he did manage to lower his voice to more acceptable levels.]
He spent two hundred years preparing this. Two hundred years! Gods only know what is awaiting any intruder in his lair and if I'm going to die anyway then I'm going to do it on my own. I... appreciate your affection, I really do, but you can't help me with this. No one can. And I'm not risking my soul to the Nine Hells, too lawful for my tastes. Not that I will end in any do-gooder place anyway, my soul isn't exactly good or spotless. Guess comes with the job.
[His attempts at being 'funny' were pathetic and he knew that. Astarion glanced to the city behind Nepione, then back to her. She and the others were going to be heroes of Baldur's Gate, he could already see that, but that wasn't something he was going to be part of. She was going to have hopefully a good and long life, full of love and joy- the temptation of saying 'Let me do this for you' was there, but he managed to hold his words back.
His actions, however, not so much. Given permission, he'd find himself wrapped around her, his arms holding the woman with strength and desperation. If pushed away, he'd probably just stand there awkwardly and cross his arms once more.]
You will be fine, I promise. You and the other got this. And you will make allies, even more than the harpers and the tieflings, I know you're this kind of woman. I will think of you when my time comes.
I also promise I will take down one or two big bastards in the Absolute's army before going down, I'm not dying without a bang.
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[There it was, the thing that set him off. He didn't plan to raise his voice with her, but there was a desperate urgency to make this point clear. He didn't pay attention to the few heads that raised in their direction from the camp, what the others were thinking was completely irrelevant this time. Astarion wasn't strong enough to see yet another person he loved fall to Cazador and that left him without options.
At least he did manage to lower his voice to more acceptable levels.]
He spent two hundred years preparing this. Two hundred years! Gods only know what is awaiting any intruder in his lair and if I'm going to die anyway then I'm going to do it on my own. I... appreciate your affection, I really do, but you can't help me with this. No one can. And I'm not risking my soul to the Nine Hells, too lawful for my tastes. Not that I will end in any do-gooder place anyway, my soul isn't exactly good or spotless. Guess comes with the job.
[His attempts at being 'funny' were pathetic and he knew that. Astarion glanced to the city behind Nepione, then back to her. She and the others were going to be heroes of Baldur's Gate, he could already see that, but that wasn't something he was going to be part of. She was going to have hopefully a good and long life, full of love and joy- the temptation of saying 'Let me do this for you' was there, but he managed to hold his words back.
His actions, however, not so much. Given permission, he'd find himself wrapped around her, his arms holding the woman with strength and desperation. If pushed away, he'd probably just stand there awkwardly and cross his arms once more.]
You will be fine, I promise. You and the other got this. And you will make allies, even more than the harpers and the tieflings, I know you're this kind of woman. I will think of you when my time comes.
I also promise I will take down one or two big bastards in the Absolute's army before going down, I'm not dying without a bang.