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There was a thought that nagged at the recesses of Ci'aran conscious soul. Like a spider, swinging precipitously over the edge, held null only by the thinnest of strands, he felt as if his world was balancing on a single act. The fragility of the issue at hand could not be ignored; its severity not to be underestimated.
At first the thoughts were easy to dismiss. The threats after all, were unlikely, given the disguise and the plan at hand. They had escaped, or been kicked out of Malvoix before, it made much sense they could do it a second time, even without the hand of a clock wizard. But as the day progressed, and his footsteps drew closer and closer to the town square, he felt as if each attempt to get closer, was weighed down with troubles, insecurities and fear.
Like Iseult, Ci'aran had fears of his own. Unlike Iseult, none were about personal security; losing his money, his job; after all this was a mission with the Protectorat du Paix, his job security was about as secure as it -could- get, that much was certain. Rather he was more concerned with another problem entirely; Iseults safety. While her company added wisdom and wit in even the most tenuous and gravest of situations, it also added the vulnerability of him having to protect her. Was it wise for him to involve her? She would've volunteered at a hearts' murmur, but was it the right thing to do?
The greatest of ironies, Ci'aran admitted as he continued his walk, in regards to Iseult, was that at first glance she did look like she needed protection; fragile, thin, withdrawn. When you got to know her however, you realized she was better fortified that an entire garrison. Beneath that core however, she was still a woman, and feelings could remain dormant for only so long. Thus he reconsidered: Sure, the success hinged on the feasibility of a lone man entering a museum, but was it worth the risk?
When he saw Iseult, however, the figure growing larger as he approached, he could not help but feel a slight glow within himself. She represented a humanity that he knew little of, what he tried to control through impetuousness or humor, she saw through with seriousness and truth. Despite his best attempts at acting reassured and secure with his decision, the nature of her question plowed through his best defenses and reduced his brow to creases of worry.
"I... don't think that I have a choice." Ci'aran said slowly, his eyes never leaving the ground as he kicked the cobblestone absentmindedly with the heel of his boot, he should not have had Iseult involved in the first place, "But you do." Ci'aran hesitated slightly before continuing, "I think perhaps, Iseult, that this is one you ought to sit out on. I don't think I could live with myself if something happened to you. You're the one level-headed person in Jaedaxia I know, without you around for advice, I don't know if I'd be going east or west."
Humor always seemed to be Ci'aran's venue of choice when it came to pleas. While his soul for eternity was with Sabine, Iseult represented a side of family he never had. A counsel that was true regardless of the situation, and an honesty that constantly defies its situation. He could not lose her.
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