[ He wishes he could lie to Bastien. Because it gives him a sudden frisson of fear. By had already been imagining it - him and Bastien together, leaning against one another, in a little apartment in Denerim, crossing up to Val Royeaux, popping over to Kirkwall, never staying in the same place long enough to be properly known by anyone, always a mystery and always a delight. But the truth of the matter...What if it makes Bastien rethink it? Because the truth is, he remembers it well. The way the Chantry mothers had paled with horror at the liberties he'd taken. The way that the villagers had muttered about him with innuendo and condemnation. Even in Denerim, there'd been one or two people who'd gritted their teeth. ]
It depends. On the person, and on where you are. Most people see it as an odd little habit, like eating raw onions or fishing with your bare hands or something of the like. Obviously no one really cares too much - it's Ferelden, after all; what you do is your business. So. But. [ He works up his courage and admits: ] It's not like Orlais.
[ The look he shoots Bastien gives information enough, to be sure: wincing, uncertain, like he's ready for horror in return. Not the face of a man who's been persecuted, but the face of a man who's asking his lover to move into less comfortable circumstances. ]
no subject
[ He wishes he could lie to Bastien. Because it gives him a sudden frisson of fear. By had already been imagining it - him and Bastien together, leaning against one another, in a little apartment in Denerim, crossing up to Val Royeaux, popping over to Kirkwall, never staying in the same place long enough to be properly known by anyone, always a mystery and always a delight. But the truth of the matter...What if it makes Bastien rethink it? Because the truth is, he remembers it well. The way the Chantry mothers had paled with horror at the liberties he'd taken. The way that the villagers had muttered about him with innuendo and condemnation. Even in Denerim, there'd been one or two people who'd gritted their teeth. ]
It depends. On the person, and on where you are. Most people see it as an odd little habit, like eating raw onions or fishing with your bare hands or something of the like. Obviously no one really cares too much - it's Ferelden, after all; what you do is your business. So. But. [ He works up his courage and admits: ] It's not like Orlais.
[ The look he shoots Bastien gives information enough, to be sure: wincing, uncertain, like he's ready for horror in return. Not the face of a man who's been persecuted, but the face of a man who's asking his lover to move into less comfortable circumstances. ]