[ It's for the best that Iorveth leaves him. He needs a moment to himself, to pace restlessly and work himself up. He's never been much for hope, but he finds himself mustering as much of it as he can now. Everything will be different once they procure the cloak. Everything will be better. He'll have a real life, the sort of one he's always wanted, and he'll wake every morning to the sun shining on his face.

He just has to be brave enough to actually do this.

It takes about five minutes more than Iorveth might expect for him to come down. Gathering hope is hard work, after all. It's difficult to tell whether he feels genuinely optimistic about their chances or if he's just putting up a strong front, but either way, he has his shoulders back and his head held high. ]

There you are, darling. [ His hand rests on Iorveth's shoulder. ] Did you send your message? We should get going. We don't want to miss our, ah. Appointment.