[ Crazy, that's the same thing he's thinking about Iorveth — he's so sweet, no way he's a murderer!! As Iorveth peels the clothing from his bottom half, Astarion glances down at his injured leg, taking the pillow from underneath it and covering the bruises. His lovely fiancé doesn't need to see that.

Otherwise, he lies limp and happy against the pillows, staring up at Iorveth with an enamored expression, hearts practically twirling around his head. ]

I would like that. We've been confined to the dark for too long.

[ He wants to see the way Iorveth's dark hair shines in the sun, the way his tanned skin glows, his eyes sparkle. And he wants to see other things, too: color again, bright and vibrant rather than dull and muted. ]

How long were you hoping to stay, my dear? [ It'll put Gale out, but whatever. ] I could find ways to occupy my time if you wanted to... delay your return to the north.