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“What has you so worried?”
Astarion bit his lip, couldn’t look Gale in the eye. He didn’t have the words to describe how he felt. For 200 years he had been the same. His body had been the instrument of Cazador’s will. Lithe, sharp, deadly. Now the lines were blurring.
“It’s silly, really,” Astarion said, and stepped out of their embrace. Gale’s eyes followed him, made his skin prickle with embarrassment. He knew what he really wanted to ask: Will you still love me, even when I change?***
After their adventure, Astarion gains some happy weight and doesn’t know how to feel about it.

