True, that he and Emet-Selch share the curse of immortality. True that Astarion knows loss. But the shape of it all between them doesn’t align. Doesn’t fit. It’s too different— and maybe if Astarion possessed enough self-awareness to truly hold the glass up to his life in Thedas, it might make more sense.
But he can’t. He doesn’t really know how.
Not yet, or not ever.
His brow creases, his head tilts. It has the stupid effect of making him seem more like a lost dog than anything deeply insightful— which in a way, is the truth.
“Why are you so unhappy, then? It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have changed it.”
no subject
True, that he and Emet-Selch share the curse of immortality. True that Astarion knows loss. But the shape of it all between them doesn’t align. Doesn’t fit. It’s too different— and maybe if Astarion possessed enough self-awareness to truly hold the glass up to his life in Thedas, it might make more sense.
But he can’t. He doesn’t really know how.
Not yet, or not ever.
His brow creases, his head tilts. It has the stupid effect of making him seem more like a lost dog than anything deeply insightful— which in a way, is the truth.
“Why are you so unhappy, then? It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have changed it.”
You still can’t.
So there. Absolved. A relief, right?