[ Iorveth does like Astarion's pointy ears. They're familiar, they're pretty, and they're traits of similarity and safety. He doesn't like the word only being thrown into the mix, but he has to admit that Astarion being an elf was a big part of things.

A slightly-indignant but gentle tug to an earlobe later, Iorveth goes back to work massaging Astarion's scalp, letting the product sit in his hair for a luxurious few moments before he moves to rinse it all out.

As he sifts his fingers through wet curls: ] I trust Gortash's potential assistance as much as I trust the Illithid Emperor.

[ Which is to say that he doesn't trust them at all. His expression wrinkles into a slight frown. ]

I suspect his contribution to our cause would be to stand idly by and do nothing.