[ Despite the posturing, Iorveth, too, is exhausted from the events of the day-night, and falls into his own void not long after making sure that Astarion is down and out for the count. Time and existence melts away for those long hours; once or twice, some instinct tells him that Gale has come in to check on them (presumably to make sure that they aren't dead).
Morning comes, and Iorveth is awake by the time Astarion stirs, bullied into consciousness by his mortal body and its needs: namely, his stomach growling. He ignores it for now, more pleased by the fact that Astarion seems to have gotten at least some measure of rest instead of being plagued by horrors again.
Combing bangs away from Astarion's face: ] There you are. [ Warmly. As if he missed Astarion while he was asleep, which is just absurd enough to maybe be true. ] How do you feel?
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Morning comes, and Iorveth is awake by the time Astarion stirs, bullied into consciousness by his mortal body and its needs: namely, his stomach growling. He ignores it for now, more pleased by the fact that Astarion seems to have gotten at least some measure of rest instead of being plagued by horrors again.
Combing bangs away from Astarion's face: ] There you are. [ Warmly. As if he missed Astarion while he was asleep, which is just absurd enough to maybe be true. ] How do you feel?