“For the same reason I don’t do well with being bossed around for anyone else’s benefit.” He sighs absently, taking a longer sip this time.

“My former master is gone. Far, far out of reach, or— I’m out of his. Either way, the point is, I needed something for myself. Something I could own, even if only partially.”

His fingers flex against Ellis’ side, repositioning by degrees, and surprisingly gentle about the ordeal: contrary to popular belief, Astarion has it in him to be kind, when he wants to be.

“The other elves can rot in their Alienage. I’m going to do better. Go farther.”