[ Not exactly the most elegant wake-up call. Astarion groans, and Iorveth's reaction is immediate: decades of bring ambush-ready snaps his one eye open, and the arm still looped around Astarion's middle tightens, pulling him inwards protectively against an ill-perceived threat. ]
―Love? [ His voice is trance-hoarse, slightly slurred. ] Astarion.
[ Muffled, as he soothes a palm up Astarion's back. Assuming, in his hazy mind, that he's seen another nightmare. Gods, he can't wait to kill that hag (was that the plan? Iorveth's lost track). ]
I'm here, [ which sounds like "m'hrr", murmured into silver curls. ]
no subject
―Love? [ His voice is trance-hoarse, slightly slurred. ] Astarion.
[ Muffled, as he soothes a palm up Astarion's back. Assuming, in his hazy mind, that he's seen another nightmare. Gods, he can't wait to kill that hag (was that the plan? Iorveth's lost track). ]
I'm here, [ which sounds like "m'hrr", murmured into silver curls. ]