[ His eyelids are heavy, and under Iorveth's gentle ministrations, they fall closed whether he wants them to or not. It's easy to be lured into relaxation this way, even if his thinking mind (at least, as much thinking as Astarion does) wants to resist it. Almost unconsciously, his arms snake around Iorveth's middle and his good leg tangles with Iorveth's. Instinct. His body wants to be close to Iorveth just as much as his mind does. ]

I don't want to hear bad news from Gale, [ he says, voice a little distant and a lot tired. ] He'll prattle on for an hour before getting to the point.

[ Not like Astarion, who uses his words very judiciously. ]

I'll test it myself.

[ A daunting idea. He doesn't even have the first idea of how to properly test it, much less what he'll do if one of the cloaks has a malicious effect. ]

Just let me rest for a few hours, and I'll be fresh as a daisy.