She catches that, the look to her arm. She follows it with her own gaze, considering for a moment if maybe she should lengthen the sleeves of this robe, or perhaps change again - not that she can without being left bare from her waist up, in front of Astarion. It is what it is.
Her gaze drawn back up, she listens to the clever and well aimed analysis of her personality, which she could do without, but given everything he's done for her this evening, it doesn't chafe as much as it would with anyone else.
Not that, regrettably, anyone else would point it out. Harry and Ron certainly didn't, her help something that they accepted and took for granted in equal measure.
She glances down to his mouth, as he takes a sip of wine, catching a flash of fang and wondering how it is that it took her a while to notice them in the first place?
"Uncomfortably so," she admits, her voice quiet. She's far too used to taking care of herself, too, rather than being taken care of - in as many ways as he'll likely think. (It's funny, she's fairly sure he thinks she's some stuck up, virginal scholar. Many people do.)
She clears her throat. "My school was under the control of a vile wizard," she starts off. "He believed, and his followers believed, that a wizard is only powerful because the Weave, and magic, has been in their family for generations and generations. That allowing the school to take students who came from the common, unmagical masses was to muddy the blood."
And she's told him already about her parents, the dentists.
"My friends and I, we spent a good year trying to wrestle command of the school away from him, and to defeat his followers. One of them - she delighted in torture." She shrugs. "Just - if you were wondering. I don't share this often - and I've taken to long sleeves because...it's a long story to explain."
no subject
Her gaze drawn back up, she listens to the clever and well aimed analysis of her personality, which she could do without, but given everything he's done for her this evening, it doesn't chafe as much as it would with anyone else.
Not that, regrettably, anyone else would point it out. Harry and Ron certainly didn't, her help something that they accepted and took for granted in equal measure.
She glances down to his mouth, as he takes a sip of wine, catching a flash of fang and wondering how it is that it took her a while to notice them in the first place?
"Uncomfortably so," she admits, her voice quiet. She's far too used to taking care of herself, too, rather than being taken care of - in as many ways as he'll likely think. (It's funny, she's fairly sure he thinks she's some stuck up, virginal scholar. Many people do.)
She clears her throat. "My school was under the control of a vile wizard," she starts off. "He believed, and his followers believed, that a wizard is only powerful because the Weave, and magic, has been in their family for generations and generations. That allowing the school to take students who came from the common, unmagical masses was to muddy the blood."
And she's told him already about her parents, the dentists.
"My friends and I, we spent a good year trying to wrestle command of the school away from him, and to defeat his followers. One of them - she delighted in torture." She shrugs. "Just - if you were wondering. I don't share this often - and I've taken to long sleeves because...it's a long story to explain."