Astarion doesn't cry. Not very often.

He's big. He's frightening. No matter how bad his chest aches, Astarion always makes himself larger than his fear. Than his hurt. If he is larger, he will be the one feared. And then he wouldn't have to hurt anymore.

"Oh, Gods above..." Astarion finds himself whispering into the tent. He has to be careful not to wake his... friend? Partner? As of reaching Moonrise, it's been decided there's not really a label for this relationship. They weren't hooking up, not anymore, but Astarion was more than thrilled to be... whatever this was. Whatever they were together.

Until the quiet of the night settled. Until he couldn't will his mind to calm enough to meditate and rest.

He doesn't even have Gods to pray to, but he's so afraid. Of this. Of the relationship, if it could be called one. Astarion knows he's a beast of a man. Who could ever love a beast?

"You'll forgive me, I know it. Eventually. Oh, but that's the problem..." He whispers to himself in a monologue. He's laid himself in a heap in the pitiful efforts of comforting himself.