What a pathetic little thing, he thought.

There you lay, sleeping peacefully next to the most powerful vampire in all of Faerûn. Your face looked so soft, so innocent; he almost envied you for your ability to rest so easily, while Astarion was constantly debating whether to kill or to kiss you.

Watching you felt weirdly soothing. For once, the blaring noise in Astarion's head quieted down - that blasted inner voice that told him to tear out your throat and simply be done with this farce...