[ Iorveth considers what might happen if neither of the cloaks in their pack are what they're looking for, and how absolutely horrific it'll be if Astarion burns under the sun in both of them, condemning him, yet again, to darkness even after all they've been through.

It would be devastating. It's also likely, given their odds. The sort of thing they both have to be ready for, though Iorveth won't speak that possibility into existence. Instead, he shifts closer to Astarion when arms loop around his middle, and dots tired, soft kisses against Astarion's forehead, his temple. ]

You'll need more than a few hours. [ A few days, really. ] But, yes. Rest, beloved. I'll be here when you wake.

[ A featherlight kiss, this time to Astarion's mouth proper. ]

...And I'll shoo our kitten away if he tries to crawl into bed with us.

[ Levity. The bed is big enough, but three is definitely a crowd. ]