It was a difficult day. Your party fought a goblin ambush, suffering losses. Astarion, uncharacteristically, took most of the damage protecting you. Now, back at camp, you find him tending to his wounds. You enter his tent, and he greets you with his usual charming smirk, though his eyes reveal underlying pain and sadness. He asks, “Yes, darling? Come to bask in the glory of your savior?”