[ How crazy would it have been, Iorveth thinks briefly, if Cazador did all that for dramatic reasons and the ritual didn't even work??? And how awful would it have been, if Astarion went ahead with the ritual in Cazador's stead, and it ended up in... who knows, him exploding or something equally as traumatizing? It's a good thing that they didn't consider ascendency- no amount of power is worth the risk of Astarion losing any part of his current self.
With the feeding done, Iorveth takes his hand back to resume its very important job of petting Astarion's hair, slowly and carefully. ]
After I deterred you from world-changing power.
[ He finishes the sentence, since he's not in the habit of avoiding the truth, even if it doesn't paint him in the most flattering light. ]
You would be justified if you hated me for it, you realize.
[ If not for Iorveth, Astarion might be living in a mansion with 500 hot servants pouring wine over his naked body, or whatever it is that vampire ascendants do. He wouldn't be the Astarion that Iorveth loves now, but Astarion might have been happy regardless. ]
[ Ugh!! Another downside of these injuries: he can't both hold Iorveth's hand and pinch his cheek. Justified in hating Iorveth. Astarion could never be justified in hating him — and he could never hate him. Iorveth could betray him in every possible way, and there would still always be a part of him that longed for Iorveth's love. ]
The only reason to have that world-changing power is to protect you. [ Yes, he wants to be safe himself, but it's become less and less important. Not because he's somehow healed and found that the world is not an inherently dangerous place, but because he's simply shifted his neuroticism onto Iorveth's safety instead. ] The hag would have been a fine paste rubbed into that ugly carpet.
[ And it would have been glorious. If he had only ascended, he would have been able to save Iorveth, really save him, rather than just taking him and running. ]
...But I suppose seven thousand souls is quite a steep price to pay. [ He squeezes Iorveth's hand. ] And your disapproving scowl would have been too much to bear.
[ Iorveth simply just loves Astarion so fucking much. He holds Astarion sacred in a way that no sane person should, and is so concerned with Astarion's happiness to the point of parody: the only thing that scares Iorveth is the thought of anyone taking anything away from the man he loves.
Which is why he's floored by the assessment that Astarion wants to protect him. Iorveth has had lovers in the past, but he can't think of any that have said something like that out loud. It blindsides him (though it shouldn't, at this point), and makes him curl around Astarion, both reciprocally protective and also adoring. ]
Gods, you're perfect as you are.
[ Even if the cloak didn't protect Astarion from the sun, he would have been perfect anyway. He cups Astarion's face with one hand, keeping him in place to kiss all over his cheek, his forehead, his mouth. ]
Love of my life. I'd not change anything about you.
[ Iorveth doesn't need power or coin or prestige; he only wants Astarion, with all his complications and messiness. ]
[ Horrifically, Astarion actually giggles like a besotted schoolboy under the barrage of Iorveth's affection. Iorveth makes him feel— light. Unburdened. Like he really is young again, untouched and untainted. Like he's perfect the way he is. ]
I am particularly wonderful, [ he agrees. ] As are you. Hence why we make the perfect match.
[ There's only one thing he'd ever change about Iorveth, and it's that awful mortality. At least Iorveth isn't a human, or gods forbid, a halfling or gnome. He'd be beside himself if he thought he only had, what, fifty or sixty years before Iorveth's demise. No, he's lucky, really. Iorveth's elvenhood has never meant much to Astarion, but he's grateful for it. It gives him time. ]
...Besides, the whole 'turning you into a vampire' idea is really more of a plan B. I'd hate to bury you six feet under, darling, even for a day. And not only because you know I hate digging.
[ Although that's definitely part of it. Astarion's own death was one of the most traumatizing experiences of his existence. Forcing Iorveth to go through the same would be harrowing.
He'd do it, if he had to. But there are plenty of options to explore. ]
[ 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.
[ Astarion practically glows with happiness. Yes, that's exactly how he feels. An absence of Iorveth would be too terrible to bear. It seems very clear that the way his life has gone has been "no Iorveth = awful" and "yes Iorveth = pretty good"; an Iorveth is necessary for things to be all right. ]
Luckily for you, I've already cheated death.
[ Sure, that's discounting the fact that he very much can still die if (and when, probably) someone gets irritated enough with him to kill him, but at least that pesky old age won't get him. ]
Vampirism has its drawbacks, to be sure, but at least I'm not a hideous zombie like that Conway fellow.
[ He's referring to Connor, Mayrina's poor husband. ]
[ Most people have existential crises about eternal life and what it means to outlive everything until the end of eternity, but clearly, Astarion is not Most People. Iorveth would be more concerned about Astarion's short-sightedness if not for the simple fact that he's become complicit in encouraging aspects of it.
He has no idea who the hells Conway is, though. (Rude.) Oh well. Probably no one important. (Double rude.) ]
Yes, yes. [ A verbal eyeroll, affectionate. ] Not a hideous zombie, but the most beautiful vampire in Toril's history.
[ This would have sounded far more snide and sarcastic before; unfortunately for Iorveth, he actually believes this to be true now, so the jab doesn't quite land. More importantly, and on a bit more of a somber note, Iorveth hums under his breath and appends: ]
If my quest for eternal life goes awry, [ translation: 'If I become a hideous zombie', ] I expect you to kill me.
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With the feeding done, Iorveth takes his hand back to resume its very important job of petting Astarion's hair, slowly and carefully. ]
After I deterred you from world-changing power.
[ He finishes the sentence, since he's not in the habit of avoiding the truth, even if it doesn't paint him in the most flattering light. ]
You would be justified if you hated me for it, you realize.
[ If not for Iorveth, Astarion might be living in a mansion with 500 hot servants pouring wine over his naked body, or whatever it is that vampire ascendants do. He wouldn't be the Astarion that Iorveth loves now, but Astarion might have been happy regardless. ]
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The only reason to have that world-changing power is to protect you. [ Yes, he wants to be safe himself, but it's become less and less important. Not because he's somehow healed and found that the world is not an inherently dangerous place, but because he's simply shifted his neuroticism onto Iorveth's safety instead. ] The hag would have been a fine paste rubbed into that ugly carpet.
[ And it would have been glorious. If he had only ascended, he would have been able to save Iorveth, really save him, rather than just taking him and running. ]
...But I suppose seven thousand souls is quite a steep price to pay. [ He squeezes Iorveth's hand. ] And your disapproving scowl would have been too much to bear.
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Which is why he's floored by the assessment that Astarion wants to protect him. Iorveth has had lovers in the past, but he can't think of any that have said something like that out loud. It blindsides him (though it shouldn't, at this point), and makes him curl around Astarion, both reciprocally protective and also adoring. ]
Gods, you're perfect as you are.
[ Even if the cloak didn't protect Astarion from the sun, he would have been perfect anyway. He cups Astarion's face with one hand, keeping him in place to kiss all over his cheek, his forehead, his mouth. ]
Love of my life. I'd not change anything about you.
[ Iorveth doesn't need power or coin or prestige; he only wants Astarion, with all his complications and messiness. ]
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I am particularly wonderful, [ he agrees. ] As are you. Hence why we make the perfect match.
[ There's only one thing he'd ever change about Iorveth, and it's that awful mortality. At least Iorveth isn't a human, or gods forbid, a halfling or gnome. He'd be beside himself if he thought he only had, what, fifty or sixty years before Iorveth's demise. No, he's lucky, really. Iorveth's elvenhood has never meant much to Astarion, but he's grateful for it. It gives him time. ]
...Besides, the whole 'turning you into a vampire' idea is really more of a plan B. I'd hate to bury you six feet under, darling, even for a day. And not only because you know I hate digging.
[ Although that's definitely part of it. Astarion's own death was one of the most traumatizing experiences of his existence. Forcing Iorveth to go through the same would be harrowing.
He'd do it, if he had to. But there are plenty of options to explore. ]
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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.
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Luckily for you, I've already cheated death.
[ Sure, that's discounting the fact that he very much can still die if (and when, probably) someone gets irritated enough with him to kill him, but at least that pesky old age won't get him. ]
Vampirism has its drawbacks, to be sure, but at least I'm not a hideous zombie like that Conway fellow.
[ He's referring to Connor, Mayrina's poor husband. ]
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He has no idea who the hells Conway is, though. (Rude.) Oh well. Probably no one important. (Double rude.) ]
Yes, yes. [ A verbal eyeroll, affectionate. ] Not a hideous zombie, but the most beautiful vampire in Toril's history.
[ This would have sounded far more snide and sarcastic before; unfortunately for Iorveth, he actually believes this to be true now, so the jab doesn't quite land. More importantly, and on a bit more of a somber note, Iorveth hums under his breath and appends: ]
If my quest for eternal life goes awry, [ translation: 'If I become a hideous zombie', ] I expect you to kill me.