"You are still speaking on how we will get there and all of my concern rests in what happens to you afterward," Fiaethe said. She shook her head back at him. He was thinking of a way to get around the Captain's curiosity, wasn't he? Yet that man was respectful to a fault. He'd follow Ilúvatar into whatever fight he chose, whether he liked it or not. Fiaethe had hoped to see the Captain here. She had hoped to tell the Captain what she told Ilúvatar, if only because Baila had defended her when he had every right to question the rightness of that action.
Ilúvatar was set on taking this risk. He was likely set the moment she told him the truth, which might have been a fatal error on her part. Fiaethe worried most over this; not since marrying Thuinir had she inspired to work for her benefit. She did not want to make the same mistake with Ilúvatar that she made with Kethsahlon.
"Never thinking of the consequences, bull headed as I have ever seen an elf," she said. "This is exactly why I refuse to leave you alone. What will you do, when he knows that he has you? What he lacks in cleverness, he makes plain in apathetic cruelty. I doubt he would come unprepared for someone like you, the former King's shining blade."
For all the machinations, the subtle games, strategy she participated in...Fiaethe disliked when she couldn't divine an outcome. It was not about cowardice. She did not like that she could imagine an array of things that could go wrong, that this was more foul a risk than reaching out to the Magister to begin with, or that she felt an oppressive sense of caution. It was not in her to spend his life.
"When I was a child, I saw a pair of elves boxing at the temple where I was...educated. It's a bloody sport and I was young. There were rules I did not understand, but it was clear to me how one went about getting the other to the floor. It was never about reputation or brute force, the violence was secondary. Just as this isn't just about trust with Ramga. It's about who strikes the fastest, and in the most devastating way."
Fiaethe frowned.
"I do not want to give him that opportunity," she paused. "And I do not want to be the reason for that opportunity."