[My Leto. Strange that that's what sticks out to him as he sorts this out in his mind. My darling, my kadan, catulus, amatus, precious thing, little songbird, and it's so rare his lover calls him by his proper name anymore. It makes him pay all the more attention, rapt as he listens to his lover's warning.

And he understands. He almost doesn't want to, but he does, for even as Astarion speaks some strange shadow of jealousy rises within him. A mixture of bitterness from his own lack of memories combining with the knowledge of brightness unsurpassed (and he knows what Astarion means, he has memories like that himself, but oh, it twists something within him all the same, too faint to be called hurt). It's the strangest mixture of emotions.

Finally, he glances up to meet Astarion's eye again.]

Tell me what happened first.

[They're so tangled up together already, and yet still Leto feels the urge to squirm in impossibly closer. Instead he focuses on those fingers playing with his hair, letting his own fretfulness be soothed by the steady action.]

Before anything else . . . I know the broad overview, but . . . I would hear the story itself first. And then I will decide.