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"Sage advice," Astarion says quietly. He's not sure he'd take it as well as Rosita seemingly has, though then again, he's not sure he'd describe anyone at being more deserving of a second chance than he is himself.
He knows Astarion had done the same with his own letter from - well.
"He's right," Jacob adds. "But that's fucking harder to think than it is to say."
Jacob has a laundry list of people who deserve a second chance more than him.
She shakes her head, tightens her hold ever so slightly on Astarion, looks across at Jacob.
"I know this probably doesn't seem like much, but it's a pretty big fucking deal. No one talks about the old life anymore. No one thinks about it if we can help it, so. This means a lot."
Astarion looks down at the flickering candle flames, the paper and silk flowers, the offerings. It doesn't seem like much. If he'd wandered across such an arrangement tomorrow and had no personal contention to it, he'd have just picked over the table for anything of value and thought nothing more about it.
But it means something to her. And she means something to him.
"...You chose this," he says quietly. "You chose the place, and the time, and the people, in circumstances where we are forever being thrown right and left at the whims of powers we can't see, for reasons we can't know. That...that does mean something."
She doesn't beam at them, but her smile settles deeper and truer. It's a bittersweet ache, and one she treasures.
"Normally we'd eat and drink and dance through the night, celebrating the family we still have." That won't happen here, for multiple reasons. "Could I - could we. It doesn't need to be any of that, but whatever it is. Could we stay together tonight?"
It feels precarious, somehow, to just ask - but she's come to trust them, so ask she does.
"Yes," Astarion says simply. "Of course."
It would feel strange to leave her alone. It would feel worse to walk away and spend the night by himself. She makes the very suggestion he was hoping to hear.
"We can still drink if you want," he points out. "Lounge is a bust, but I've got a couple of bottles hidden away."
She glances at Astarion, pressing her lips together.
"Is there anything... special? We can do for you?"
Astarion blinks at her, barely understanding the question, then smiles and shakes his head. He's not even sure what that would look like.
"No. But thank you."
"We'll figure something out," he tells them both, but the wheels are turning. "Meanwhile, we have to crash somewhere. Have a good time."
She has questions for Jacob too, but there's time now. They have time. She looks again across the ofrenda, brushes the fabric petals of the garland with her fingertips, and nods.
She smiles. "I know where all the empty cabins are."
"And one even hopes some of them haven't been destroyed," Astarion says. "Shall we retire, then?"
"Text me which one y'all go to. I'll meet you there with what I have."
"You good?"
Astarion doesn't add anything, but his gaze briefly flicks to Jacob's. Not quite concerned, but - curious.
"Yeah," he assures her and Astarion both. "I'm fine. It'll take five minutes to get there and to y'all. Go ahead."
She licks her lips, but turns to go with another nod.
Astarion keeps close to her, more than usual, their arms bumping lightly as they walk together. Nothing protective about it, it just...feels like the correct thing to do, for whatever reason.
He knocks at the door on the 4th floor.
"It's me."
She pulls more candles out, sets them around the room, lighting them with her cantrip. She doesn't speak either but by the time there's knocking on the door, she's humming softly enough it's barely audible.
She drags a chair over when she opens the door to shove under the knob once Jacob is inside.
"Not too shabby. I don't know if skipping the empty room makes them good pirates or shitty ones."
"Efficient, for better or worse," Astarion suggests. He's sitting down on the edge of the bed, having been watching Rosita light candles. "I'd suggest we consider stashing a few things in rooms like this, but who knows what'll become of them when they're occupied?"
He takes out two bottles - one rum, one wine - and sets them on a desk so he can fiddle with his music. His phone is next and he leans against the wall after unlocking it.
"Alright, guess I'm in charge of music." He turns on some comfortable country, starting with Garth Brooks, and keeps it low.
"Gonna give you some music education," he tells Astarion with a laugh. "Maybe Ro can teach us a line dance."
She's comfortable enough, calm enough, that the thought of Jacob being in charge of music doesn't raise alarms even in the paranoid part of her brain, and she grins when she hears the first guitar strums.
"Oh wow. I haven't heard this in forever, after a lifetime of thinking I'd never get away from the man." She crosses back over to the other two. "I already taught Astarion to twerk," she smirks, then glances at the elf in question: "Line dancing is nothing like that. Different kind of club." And yes, she absolutely can.
"I am not going to demonstrate," he says crisply to Jacob. "But, I don't mind dancing in a way that's slightly more dignified."
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