Astarion didn't know how long he sat up waiting; waiting for you to come to, waiting for you to come back - mentally speaking, that is. You'd had another incident, mumbling incoherent ramblings in your sleep as your pulse began to quicken. The Urge was speaking to you again, taunting you within the very depths of your psyche. He couldn't hear the voice, but he knew its presence still lingered. He was hardly ever wrong.

"This thing won't have you," came his silent promise. "I won't allow it."