[ The tan quip is always going to make Iorveth laugh, because it's so absurd. It's more likely that Astarion will get sunburnt in a way that has nothing to do with vampiric intolerance to light, and complain about it incessantly until Iorveth finds some lotion to rub on him. The most high-maintenance man in the world.

Unfortunately (?) for Iorveth, he loves Astarion and the fact that he can manifest drama out of anything (pot, kettle, etc.), so that's that. ]

I'll not entertain any cure that involves kissing Mystra's feet, [ or whatever weird freaky shit that Gale got up to, when he was her Chosen. Iorveth has heard of certain god-favored individuals living far past their natural lifespans, but Gods, not Mystra. ]

But, hm. [ A little wave of one hand, as he presses himself into pillows. Missing Astarion already, but comforted by the residual scent of him on their bedsheets. ] Go tell Gale the good news, love. He'll be in need of it.

[ He's going to be ecstatic. He might even give Astarion a hug, and be very sweet, and embarrass Astarion with glowing amounts of pure, unfiltered friendship. ]