[ Hells, Astarion looks tired. The sensible thing to do, honestly, is to tell Astarion not to do this, to go and just burn the hag's shop down himself, but he knows that Astarion would hate it, and be furious if Iorveth came back with so much as a scratch.
He knows this, because it's how he would react if Astarion did the same. So he swallows that feeling down, relegates it to the back of his ever-churning mind. ]
Mm. [ A vague sound of acknowledgement, followed by a quick peck to Astarion's hair. ] I know you hate it.
[ There's always some sort of pushback whenever Iorveth even suggests that Astarion might have virtues to speak of; he's noticed. ]
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He knows this, because it's how he would react if Astarion did the same. So he swallows that feeling down, relegates it to the back of his ever-churning mind. ]
Mm. [ A vague sound of acknowledgement, followed by a quick peck to Astarion's hair. ] I know you hate it.
[ There's always some sort of pushback whenever Iorveth even suggests that Astarion might have virtues to speak of; he's noticed. ]