[ Unreasonably in love with Astarion, but willing to argue with him about his happiness. Iorveth knows that third parties would find all of this very ridiculous, but it doesn't matter― Astarion's quality of life is imperative to him, and reintroducing the sun would be a marked success in reclaiming at least one of the things that Cazador forcibly took from Astarion.

He deserves that. Iorveth believes it, with all the conviction he has when he says that the Aen Seidhe deserve to reclaim their land. Even if Astarion isn't yet convinced of what he's earned or hasn't earned, Iorveth is doubly convinced for the both of them. ]

We can speak to her tomorrow. [ Today has been, to say the least, A Lot. ] We can return to our room with this one in tow for tonight, and hope he hasn't spoken to Alkam about us yet.

[ The problem is, uh. Carrying Damris. The tiefling isn't Karlach-shaped, but he is a statuesque, tall man. Iorveth grumbles under his breath, and tries to see if he can sling him across his wide shoulders, fireman-carry style. ]