[ Iorveth doesn't care if he's laying it on thick; he kisses Astarion again, rewarding him for sweet behavior despite the horrific suggestion that the option of burying Iorveth underground for a day still exists. Deranged, Iorveth thinks that he'd endure it if it meant that Astarion wouldn't be lonely. ]

We'll do what we must.

[ He remembers Astarion saying that resurrection was as painful as it was terrifying, but those were different circumstances― Astarion was tortured by Cazador from the moment he was turned, but Iorveth knows what Astarion would never do the same to him, would never let him spend horrified hours scraping and digging his way out of dirt.

He squeezes Astarion's hand, enjoying that point of continued connection. ]

...I'd always thought it foolish, whenever I'd heard of humans trying to cheat death. Horror stories about lovers being brought back as mindless ghosts, and the like― I'd thought it a result of human hubris and pettiness.

[ He squeezes Astarion's hand again. ]

But now I imagine the absence of you― a complete absence, unyielding― and understand why others have been so compelled.