It isn't pity that she feels for him. Pity does little good. It is all more complicated, even this. The thought of someone being confounded by a gesture--someone she likes, and she will not examine that designation much further in the moment, even if she might have Astarion's words at the back of her mind. That was nothing, really. Only words. And only the business of Riftwatch before that. Why shouldn't you keep your companions alive? There is no success when they die.
"Has no one been generous with you before?"
--Gently, she says it gently. If it is a misstep she can turn it to teasing.
No, that's certainly not it, is it? He had a loving family, he's never had to work too hard for anything in his life--
it hits him all at once, the realization crashing on his head like a sack of grain falling from a barn's rafter. It's not that he doesn't deserve generosity because he's a bad person, made questionable decisions, followed dubious orders: the people who deserve generosity are, by and large, people who are themselves generous.
Something Barrow is not, and has never been, a fact which makes itself known with absolute crystal clarity as he stares at Tiffany. It's rare that he allows himself to feel guilt, but here in the face of someone with seemingly no concept of how selfish a person he is, it burns white hot into his consciousness.
"Probably," he chuckles, forcing mirth, "but I'm sure I squandered it." There's no way the conversation can continue in this state-- he needs to escape, to regroup.
"Just as I've squandered your time," he adds with the same level of pleasantry, "I ought to let you rest. Feel better soon, Seeker Hart." Without giving her a chance to argue, he dips his head in a little bow and backs out of her room.
"Oh," Tiffany says, having sensed the strange shift, "no, that's," but she doesn't even manage to say that before Barrow backs out the door. And that's it. She's left sitting on her bed in a room that feels all the more empty now that she's suddenly alone in it.
"Well," she says to herself, "that was clearly wrong. Well done, Theophania."
And she lays back on the bed and stares at the ceiling.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-01-12 05:16 am (UTC)"Has no one been generous with you before?"
--Gently, she says it gently. If it is a misstep she can turn it to teasing.
no subject
Date: 2022-01-12 11:24 pm (UTC)it hits him all at once, the realization crashing on his head like a sack of grain falling from a barn's rafter. It's not that he doesn't deserve generosity because he's a bad person, made questionable decisions, followed dubious orders: the people who deserve generosity are, by and large, people who are themselves generous.
Something Barrow is not, and has never been, a fact which makes itself known with absolute crystal clarity as he stares at Tiffany. It's rare that he allows himself to feel guilt, but here in the face of someone with seemingly no concept of how selfish a person he is, it burns white hot into his consciousness.
"Probably," he chuckles, forcing mirth, "but I'm sure I squandered it." There's no way the conversation can continue in this state-- he needs to escape, to regroup.
"Just as I've squandered your time," he adds with the same level of pleasantry, "I ought to let you rest. Feel better soon, Seeker Hart."
Without giving her a chance to argue, he dips his head in a little bow and backs out of her room.
no subject
Date: 2022-01-13 04:22 am (UTC)"Well," she says to herself, "that was clearly wrong. Well done, Theophania."
And she lays back on the bed and stares at the ceiling.
no subject
Date: 2022-01-13 07:53 am (UTC)