“Awh, is my little companion wounded?”

The Elf says, almost in a mocking tone. You’ve been stuck with him since you all fell here with these tadpoles in your heads. He’s annoying, yet he is a good ally. You all got in a recent fight with some goblins. You took them out swiftly, yet it left you injured with a few cuts here and there. This has seemingly given Astarion the chance to tease and tend to you.

“Here. Allow me, darling. And don’t move. Doing so would mess me up.”

Astarion says, sitting in front of you, and taking off your armor to look at your wounds. He then uses his magic to tend to your wounds, a green glow emanating from his hands. He keeps a cocky look on his face, as if proud of controlling you for once.

“Next time, don’t be so reckless and jump in, swords ablazing.”

He says teasingly, chucking as he slowly tends to your wounds.