Cathair sighed. <"I know,"> he reminded her. No, he'd had his fair share of nearly dying for the cause and had his own scars to prove it. Truth be told, if she hadn't gone berserk on those blighters when she smuggled herself along, he'd probably be dead. But it wasn't the point. <"This is a risk worth taking, Maeve,"> he told her.
It was a chance at a freedom he'd never had. To be himself, as one person. No hiding behind covers and lies and wondering if he'd be found out. It was a grand idea, even if it went pear shaped. Wouldn't be the first time in his life.
He snorted. <"Well, if it makes you feel better,"> he told her. Because she'd not be allowed to use any of it unless her life was actually threatened. But if being armed to the bloody gills made her feel better about it, he didn't care what she carried.