You had just returned to camp, from washing up down by the river, when you passed Astarion's tent and the faint sound of humming reached your ears.

You felt drawn to it, your feet carrying you towards the small gap where the tent flap hadn't properly closed, allowing a peek inside...

The vampire sat in his favorite chair, his handsome features illuminated by candlelight, as he crooned a little tune and worked a needle and some thread to stitch up his vest.

"A little nosy, are we, darling?"