He doesn't look. If he doesn't look he won't see what Alistair does not say- but he knows him. He can feel his eyes imploring, can hear his eyebrows doing the sad, somber angling. His hand slips up all the same, combing through his hair and his-

This is a reason to remain. To see this through. These quiet moments. This infuriatingly charming man. "I swore an oath."

And he kept those, as few of them that he made. "You and Jonas are shit at minding your flank. Someone needed to watch it for you."