[ Another few steps, until he's nearly at the edge of the log separating them. Iorveth has no idea how he's doing, actually, and if any of this is resonating with Astarion at all, or just making him feel put on the spot.
Still, the dryad presses on, having saved the most difficult question for last. "Where there's desire, there's also dread. The heart fears as much as the heart wants: tell me, what is your love most afraid of?"
Iorveth's kneejerk temptation is to say something along the lines of "no, I won't tell you". Astarion is afraid of a myriad of things, he thinks, and somewhere near the top of that extensive list, possibly, is people knowing that he's afraid of things.
Iorveth's brows furrow, and he stays silent for a stretch of time. Suddenly, he just wants to cross the bridge and take Astarion's hand and demand that they be released from the spell, but what he knows of fey magic is that it's conditional: the strength of its power lies in the fulfillment of certain requirements. As much as Iorveth doesn't want to answer the question, he doesn't want to be stuck in this place either.
A huff of breath, and a wave of his hand later: ] Getting mud in his hair.
[ Not actually a facetious answer. Iorveth acknowledges, now, that Astarion's vanity is also a form of self-preservation. ]
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Still, the dryad presses on, having saved the most difficult question for last. "Where there's desire, there's also dread. The heart fears as much as the heart wants: tell me, what is your love most afraid of?"
Iorveth's kneejerk temptation is to say something along the lines of "no, I won't tell you". Astarion is afraid of a myriad of things, he thinks, and somewhere near the top of that extensive list, possibly, is people knowing that he's afraid of things.
Iorveth's brows furrow, and he stays silent for a stretch of time. Suddenly, he just wants to cross the bridge and take Astarion's hand and demand that they be released from the spell, but what he knows of fey magic is that it's conditional: the strength of its power lies in the fulfillment of certain requirements. As much as Iorveth doesn't want to answer the question, he doesn't want to be stuck in this place either.
A huff of breath, and a wave of his hand later: ] Getting mud in his hair.
[ Not actually a facetious answer. Iorveth acknowledges, now, that Astarion's vanity is also a form of self-preservation. ]