All he wants is to go to sleep and shut out the world and his thoughts for a few hours.

All he wants is a few hours of beautiful oblivion before he's expected to risk everything.

But his mind refuses to shut off.

He wrenches himself from bed with an angry breath.

He's been allowing himself to feel things much more freely since all this began.

It's a dangerous game, he knows, but he can't bring himself to care.

All the control in the world didn't save Lord Auron.

It didn't keep Sonia from the gallows.

It didn't stop the King from going after Arabella.

He shakes his head to dispel how utterly useless he feels at those thoughts.

He won't be so ineffectual tomorrow.

He dresses with the efficiency of a lifetime of always being on call.

When he leaves his room he has no clear destination in mind.

Still his feet lead him to the door of the war room.

The light peeking out from behind it gives him pause.

He pushes the door open, expecting to see Larcen.

Antic.i.p.ating it even.

A confrontation will give the impotent fury within him some means of escape.

It's not Larcen.

He's greeted by the sight of Helena's back as she pores over the maps and notes scattered in front of her.

"You should be sleeping."

He knows the words are inane, but he's still trying to process what he's seeing.

"So should you."

She's not wearing the cape or the remarkably inappropriate attire that serves as both a homage to her mother and a distraction.

It's not the oh so proper attire that Lord Auron had insisted a respectable young woman should wear.

In fact her clothes would not be anything of note if not for the fact that the last time he saw her dressed this way she accompanied Lord Auron into battle.

It's only when the silence drags on long enough to be uncomfortable that she turns to face him.

"I'll sleep when this is over. There's far too much to go over and confirm to waste time sleeping."

Her too fast words barely register over the realisation that she's no longer wearing the necklace.

This is all adding up to an equation he wants nothing more than to disprove.

"Hel, you need to sleep."

He doesn't have time to dwell on how much he sounds like a disapproving grandfather.

"Me? No. You. You need to sleep. I need to - I just - I need… I need to know that I'm not sending people to their deaths for a lost cause. I need to know that we're going to win."

She has that haunted, terrified look on her face again.

This time, though, Lord Auron isn't around to comfort her.

Lord Auron isn't around to order him to see to something or someone else.

He crosses the distance between them and gently takes her chin in his hand to tilt her face so she has no choice but to meet his eyes.

"You're not. I know you've gone over this a thousand times from a thousand different angles. Everyone here is going into this with the knowledge that the odds are more than against us. Death is a part of war."

"People are prepared to die for this cause and you've given us a chance to succeed. I have no doubt that we will."

The words are spoken with the conviction of someone who has absolute faith in her abilities.

Absolute faith in her.

He can see the moment his words get through to her.

It's in the straightening of her shoulders and the purpose that seems to fill her.

"You're right. We're going to win."

He knows he should step back.

He should put distance between them.

But he can't bring himself to do it.

She's the one who steps back.

"It's actually good that you're here. I won't be seeing you guys off tomorrow and I wanted to talk to you before… well before."

He doesn't say anything.

He doesn't know if he wants to hear what she has to say.

Not now.

She takes a deep breath like what she's about to ask requires a great deal of courage.

"If I've miscalculated and things go bad -"

"That's not going to happen."

He can't even allow himself to think it.

"If it does, I want you to take Sonia and flee. Head for the mountains. The wards won't affect you. I was allowed to add a select few to the list of those the magic won't affect. I'd always hoped - well, it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Hel, what-?"

"Promise me, you'll do it."

"I-"

"Promise me, Kent."

"I can't just-"

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"I need to know that the two of you are going to be okay."

It's the desperation in her voice that elicits the promise from him.

A promise he's not sure he can keep.