[ An honor. Iorveth is so ridiculous. Astarion would have rolled his eyes at such a declaration before; he did, back when Iorveth had so dramatically offered him his blood for the first time, my pledge. He'd thought himself entirely unworthy of anything treated with that much seriousness. He still does, sometimes, but the earnestness with which Iorveth professes these things to him makes him almost believe that he's deserving of them. ]

It's me who should be grateful for you, but— [ He rolls onto his side so that he can run a thumb over Iorveth's jaw. ] Ugh. Playing the I love you more game is irritatingly twee, don't you think?

[ Even though, you know. He does love Iorveth more. ]

How do you feel? Aside from, ah. [ The corner of his mouth curls upward. ] Sticky.

[ Smoothbrained creature of impulse that he is, he didn't consider that this would have been better to do before the bath. ]