[ Please, let Iorveth boot up again. It's a shame that he was far too out of it to properly savor Astarion's orgasm, but he can soak up the afterglow now with their bodies pressed tightly against each other and their bodies sinking into the burgundy-colored bed.

Once Iorveth manages to put enough of his brain back together to figure out that Astarion is speaking Common: ]

That would require a considerable amount of creative liberties.

[ Big words again! Good for Iorveth. Catching his breath, he tips his head and busies himself with littering idle kisses against Astarion's hair, his temple, his ear. ]

"Hate" may be difficult. "Mortal enemy I want to fuck", doable.