It disarms her a little, enough that she lets out a spontaneous burst of laughter, which pulls at some of the wounds on her back and makes her grimace. It's all very dumb looking from the outside - laugh, flinch, grimace, groan, laugh weaker.
"My palate has been expanded," she mutters, setting the goblet down on top of her closed traveler's chest. She looks up at Astarion with a solemn seriousness, the night - the weeks? months? the year? - catching up with her.
"Listen, I - " she starts, then hesitates. He doesn't like to be touched, she doesn't imagine it comes from an excess of cuddling in the past two hundred years of his life. And yet tonight he stayed behind for her, helped her, nursed her bloody wounds and let her grip his hand through the pain. It's enough to form a knot in her throat, a flutter of nerves.
All the more reasons for this declaration to be spelled out.
"I know that you brush these things off because perhaps signs of kindness and friendship make you sceptical, so perhaps you will trust signs of understanding instead? If you need to make a deal with Raphael to find out what it is that's on your back, I'll follow you. When he names his price, I will help. Don't - don't sign your soul over to him, there is bound to be some other way, but if the devil is the only way, that's fine and..."
This part is conjecture. She's drawing conclusions about him and putting them into words: "And if you need a friend who will fight your demons with you, then I hope that you know you can consider me said friend. We are friends, I think." A pause, and a little bit more levity in: "I mean you've seen one of my battle scars now, which makes us at least level five friends."
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"My palate has been expanded," she mutters, setting the goblet down on top of her closed traveler's chest. She looks up at Astarion with a solemn seriousness, the night - the weeks? months? the year? - catching up with her.
"Listen, I - " she starts, then hesitates. He doesn't like to be touched, she doesn't imagine it comes from an excess of cuddling in the past two hundred years of his life. And yet tonight he stayed behind for her, helped her, nursed her bloody wounds and let her grip his hand through the pain. It's enough to form a knot in her throat, a flutter of nerves.
All the more reasons for this declaration to be spelled out.
"I know that you brush these things off because perhaps signs of kindness and friendship make you sceptical, so perhaps you will trust signs of understanding instead? If you need to make a deal with Raphael to find out what it is that's on your back, I'll follow you. When he names his price, I will help. Don't - don't sign your soul over to him, there is bound to be some other way, but if the devil is the only way, that's fine and..."
This part is conjecture. She's drawing conclusions about him and putting them into words: "And if you need a friend who will fight your demons with you, then I hope that you know you can consider me said friend. We are friends, I think." A pause, and a little bit more levity in: "I mean you've seen one of my battle scars now, which makes us at least level five friends."