[ Well, Astarion doesn't plan on being separated from Iorveth for at least two hours, if not more. Hells, he'd stay here and roll around in this bed with Iorveth for the rest of his eternal life if given the chance, and if there weren't a tiefling still grunting in displeasure in the next room over.

It is very fitting, he thinks, that they got officially engaged with a man hogtied in the other room. ]

Do you remember, [ he asks, mouth twisting in amusement, ] when we broke out of that awful man's cellar [ —Henselt, but his name doesn't bear repeating— ] and ended up taking refuge in the Water Queen's House?

[ They'd still been tiptoeing around each other then; Iorveth would still scowl at him and call him vampire, something he can't believe he ever tolerated now that he knows what Iorveth's softness is like. ]

You told them that we were engaged, and on the run. [ A ridiculous thought at the time. ] —And that we had a torrid sex life.

[ Well, no. That part was Astarion. ]

You called me 'love'.

[ Until precisely this moment, it would have been too embarrassing to admit that it's something he still remembers. ]