[It does matter, he wants to argue, and knows better than to say aloud. It does make a difference, and if the Gur cannot see that, Leto will insist upon it all the louder. He will not blame them for their anguish, but nor will he let them throw it around Astarion's neck like one more damning noose.

But that soft voice rises again, and there is no world in which Leto doesn't attune to it. His features soften in the mirror's glass as he takes a step forward, pressing their bodies together and sliding his hands down Astarion's bare arms in soothing echo: I'm not going anywhere. Never, ever. Not even when the gods themselves have worked to split them apart, oh, never, he'll never stop chasing after him, loving him every step of the way.]

I love you.

[He murmurs it against Astarion's neck, nuzzling behind one tapered ear as he does.]

And I will always love you, even if there are days you struggle to love yourself. Even if the world is blind, and cannot see who you are— and what you were forced to be.

[He kisses his head, bumping his nose gently against soft curls— and then hesitates. Something like guilt crosses his expression, and he adds:]

Astarion . . .