[ Iorveth is definitely his most favorite toy. Ignoring Iorveth's very unconvincing protest, he peppers him with gentle kisses, soft and sweet despite the bullish way he holds Iorveth down. These past few days have been awful, but Iorveth isn't. Now that his head is a little clearer, he's deliriously happy that Iorveth is alive, and admittedly, inclined to replace the unpleasant sense-memory of unwanted touch that the hag had dredged up with Iorveth's kind, loving hands instead. ]

I don't think I'll let you go to breakfast with Gale.

[ Idle fantasy. There is no let when it comes to Iorveth, and he knows that. Actually, 'breakfast' is an interesting thought in itself. It's been an age since they shared a meal with someone at the proper time — when they were here last, their (well, Iorveth's) breakfast was Gale's dinner and vice versa. ]

I think I'll chain you to the bed and kiss your lovely mouth all day.

[ Someone said something about restricting canoodling. He can't remember. It probably wasn't important. ]