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Summary
He watches, his thoughts a jumbled mess of malice and mirth, as the poor vendor sweats and stammers.
Every needle and thread he ever owned he did unspeakable acts for, just to keep the clothes on his back from fraying, from flaying the way his skin so often did.
He sees as his companion lowballs the merchant and yet the trade is made, and the fine satin fabric is hers for the taking.
She gifts it to him with a smile, and he knows not how to react.
~*~
Or: Five times Astarion is reminded of owning nothing, and five times his traveling companion gifts him trinkets to change that.
