[ Love is deeply problematic when it drives someone to do things that most people would consider suicidal. Here's Exhibit A, B, and C: hitching your wagon to a wanted freedom fighter, accepting him despite his glaring faults, and letting his horrid fate dictate your own. Iorveth isn't good for anyone, let alone Astarion, but here they are, walking through a metaphorical minefield together.

Less metaphorical are the occasional traps he finds on the forest floor: jagged metal teeth meant more for bears than elves, obvious sinkholes covered by netting and leaves. Iorveth disarms some of them, throws rocks in others as a subtle fuck-you.

While he ruins one of the sinkholes (the bottom is full of jagged wooden spikes): ]

When we find shelter for the upcoming day, [ when, not if, ] I want to trance.

[ Not an unreasonable request, nor a particularly surprising one: it was stupid of him not to have rested for so long. That said, the real meat and potatoes is the addendum, which he delivers with some hesitation. ]

...Will you let me lean against you while I do?

[ Iorveth would understand if Astarion refuses. He's had to deal with unwanted bodies pressing against him, and he likely requires a bit of time to himself. ]