[ Blurry. More idle wondering, if Iorveth could use the tadpole to burrow into Astarion's head and unlock any latent memories of pre-Cazador Astarion, if only to see what color his eyes were before they turned red. But that would be both invasive and pointless, a bit of information that Iorveth wouldn't do anything with: he prefers Astarion as he is now, sharp teeth and sharper tongue, full of fear and boundless potential.

Feeling more balanced, less dizzy, Iorveth remains upright and continues petting Astarion's hair. ]

If you'd rather I choose a different profession for you when explaining our false history, say so.

[ "Magistrate" just happens to be the easiest to invoke, but it might not be the most pleasant for Astarion to inhabit. Some things are too close to home to be comfortable. ]

"Traveling performer", maybe. [ Airily, keeping the tone light. Joking, albeit dryly. ] Or "failed poet".

[ Okay, now he's just taking the piss. The corner of his lips curl slightly. ]