[ Astarion tenses up alongside Iorveth, worried that he's said something wrong. Things like 'romance' and 'relationships' and 'telling the truth' are still new to him, and every step feels precarious. The tension bleeds out quickly, though, replaced with a snort at Iorveth's dramatic assertion. No, nothing will compensate for the years of sadness and loneliness and suffering, but Iorveth comes close, he thinks. Sometimes, he wishes that they'd met sooner, before all of the awful things happened to them.
They wouldn't have even spared each other a passing glance. It seems it had to happen this way, and if so, then— yes, Iorveth was worth the wait. A few centuries from now, Cazador will only be a hazy memory, but Iorveth will never be anything but clear as day. ]
I should hope I'm your only.
[ If they returned to Iorveth's homeland only to find that he had a wife and children up there, Astarion would commit crimes so heinous that they aren't fit to describe here. ]
no subject
They wouldn't have even spared each other a passing glance. It seems it had to happen this way, and if so, then— yes, Iorveth was worth the wait. A few centuries from now, Cazador will only be a hazy memory, but Iorveth will never be anything but clear as day. ]
I should hope I'm your only.
[ If they returned to Iorveth's homeland only to find that he had a wife and children up there, Astarion would commit crimes so heinous that they aren't fit to describe here. ]
Are you going to let me bathe you?