smartass_captain

From:

It's different this time. Jim repeats it to himself in his head over and over. Felix's hand in his. Firm and steady. The mage honestly seems more determined even than Jim. Their bedroom in Bruma should be a comfort but his stomach knots unpleasantly at the jarring scent of wood, leather, and traces of smoke that fill his lungs. Jim's thinking too far ahead again.

He's remembering--

Jim pulls himself up straighter when Stratos nods his way. He swallows his weakness even if he's still pale beneath the lamplight. Clothing Jim can manage easily by now but Felix will still have to help him correct the lacings and sit of his armor once they've geared up. Gather their supplies. Pick up their weapons. Meet Uncle Terentius for their horses. Jim murmurs small half-words to himself as he adjusts his gear.

The distraction keeps him from noticing how heavy Stratos' own steps are as they head back to central room of the Caelus house. Not even the hearth's warmth will stave off the remembered chill they are to be returning to. And Felix is resolved to this. Any worry of whether they'd have to coax or drag Felix along is swiftly forgotten now. Perhaps he's that determined to protect his beloved.

Does the Why matter, so long as he stands strong?

If anything, it is Jim who seems to be struggling the most. The man is no soldier even if he is brave. Well trained in self defense. Stratos takes a moment to bow his head and whisper fervent prayer to the Divines that they will be lucky enough not to run afoul of bandits with this weather. Stendarr, let the way be clear and unburdened that we may see our mission through. Oh Talos, watch over us, give us the strength to fight our battles.

No time for anything drawn out. Two sets of boots are climbing up the stairs.

It's time to go.