|Hugs Are Effective|
|Summary:||Rowenna and Jarod mush briefly before getting back to bandit-related things.|
|Related Logs:||More Ado About Banditry|
|Sat Jun 02, 289|
Once they're dismissed from Lord Riordan's quarters, Jarod retreats briefly to their chambers. Or the guest chamber they're currently occupying in the tower, more properly, as he still seems hesitant to ask for a permanent place for them here. He doesn't seem like he's planning on staying long, as he doesn't make any move to remove his sword or armor, but he does hastily splash some water from the washbasin on a corner table over his face. He needs to decompose some, before he recomposes himself
Rowenna comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his back. Armored hugs aren't nearly as effective — but in this case the thought, and the gesture, will have to suffice. "We'll get them back," she assures him, quietly.
Hugs are generally effective where Jarod is concerned, whatever form they're in. He's drawn up all tense, but he allows himself to loosen some under her touch. Just for a moment. "The last thing I did to Lady Anais before she left the Mire was fight with her. If those fuckers hurt her, or Luci, or your sister, or…" He doesn't even seem to know what he'll do, so he just trails off.
"They're strong women, all of them — and smart," says Rowenna, voice pitched soothing, but firm in its conviction. "The only difference between them and me is I've spent more time swinging a sword around. They'll get through this."
"You've a sword and armor and ability to use them in a tight spot. None of them do," Jarod says, though he seems to take some comfort from her conviction. He turns, but it's only so he can face her, and lean his forehead down against hers. "And if your brother orders you to do anything you think's folly…you have no oath to him, Rowenna, remember that."
"I just made one," Rowenna replies, "however finite the duration." She leans into him, lifting her head so their noses touch as well. "I'm not a general, Jarod — I'm not that clever. I'm just a soldier."
It's not so unlike the times Jarod sought her arms for comfort during the war, save they're not in some smelly tent on an awful island at the moment. "That's why we get on so well." It's a weak joke, but a joke all the same. "I love you."
Rowenna reaches up to frame his face with her hands, brushing his cheekbones with her thumbs. "And I love you. So much more than I even knew."
"Look after yourself out there, aye?" The strangeness of preparing to part from her as they go off on their differing little missions suddenly seems to strike Jarod. He holds her, just for a second, a little tighter. "Find them, and then we'll bring them home together."
She nods, peppering his face with a few aimless, desperate kisses. She, too, hates to leave him. "I will."
Jarod hasn't time for much more than a few last kisses. There are bandits to chase and criminal activity to investigate and all that rot. He takes what moments he can spare for it, though. But eventually he has to let her go. Much to do, little time to do it.
When they finally part, she takes a fortifying breath and doesn't linger. She turns quickly and goes to her duty, leaving Jarod to his.