He slides the photo in to a pocket while she talks, listening attentively to her explain the flowers.
His expression falters for a moment at the Elvish; half recognition of the words, an odd flicker of shame and anger before it slides back to something apologetic.
“I am Astarion, it’s a pleasure to meet you Caoimhe.” He pauses, and his elvish response is… halting, like he can only barely remember it, or maybe never learned. “Elf. Yes. Though I’m terribly out of practice with our mother tongue, darling, too much time amongst everyone else.”
I will have you know this started a whole research bunnyhole, and… OH BOY HIS TRAGEDY OF A LIFE
His expression falters for a moment at the Elvish; half recognition of the words, an odd flicker of shame and anger before it slides back to something apologetic.
“I am Astarion, it’s a pleasure to meet you Caoimhe.” He pauses, and his elvish response is… halting, like he can only barely remember it, or maybe never learned. “Elf. Yes. Though I’m terribly out of practice with our mother tongue, darling, too much time amongst everyone else.”