[ Iorveth's embrace is comforting, but it's not enough to stop the terrible feeling of dread in him as they walk into the sunlight. It grows and grows until Astarion feels warmth on his skin, and he squeezes his eyes shut, readying himself to turn to cinders in Iorveth's arms. It'll be humiliating and awful, and he'll probably bawl for the second time in two days, but at least Iorveth will be there to comfort him through it.
no subject
He waits. Another moment, and another.
Astarion cracks open an eye. ]
—Am I dead yet?