[ Yes, he'd resent Iorveth if he asked the same of him, but it isn't the same. Stupid Iorveth. Astarion glowers as they walk past a stall selling various pieces of jewelry. "A hundred percent real emerald!" calls the halfling stall-owner; Astarion is fairly sure it's not even one percent real emerald. ]

Don't be stupid, darling.

[ A little harsh, but— ]

You're mortal. He can't hurt me the way he can hurt you.

[ And, in fact, it would hurt him more than any mere physical injury could. It's funny: he never worried about this when they took on Cazador, too wrapped up in his own emotions. ]

Believe me when I say that it would kill me.