Jim does look like some hero of old, bloody and bruised but solid and victorious against his enemies, a rock that Illario wants to cling to. And then they both seem to relax and some of the tension of the fight eases away. But it doesn't fade entirely because he still has the little one to protect, there's something inside him that makes him desperately want to keep hold of her until he can pass her back to her family. Oh Meirda, he hopes they're still alive.

Illario's well aware of how bloody he is, covered in gore and the moment Jim touches him, he wants to break down. Lean into him and possibly cry a little bit. But he can't. The little one needs to know its okay. And Jim doesn't need to think things are worse than they are.

"I... I'll take her. We'll just go down slow." He says, shifting her in his arms a little and tucking her closer into his chest. "I'm alright, amore. Just tired. We need to get Bambina safe."

He offers Jim a smile to try and back that up, not sure if he pulls it of.

Illario moves towards the edge of the tower, looking for a safe way down when he only has one arm and a limited amount of energy left. But the ruined wall offers a few options now they aren't being pursued by darkspawn.

The potion helps. It eases some of the immediate pain, pulls together the bloody abrasions on his hands and up his arms, and starts to work on the bruises that would be forming over the next few hours. It doesn't do much against the exhaustion or the crash after the adrenaline rush, but that's fine. Illario is used to that, he can work through it and come out the other side. He wishes he didn't feel sick to his stomach along with it.

Cecilia, for her part, looks between the so-called sword, back to Jim, and then to Illario, and seems to want to say that's not a sword but thinks better of it. Any knife is a weapon, and she seems to decide she'd rather have it than not. With dirty hands - mud, nothing worse- she reaches out to take it solemnly, holding onto it tightly.

"My Pa told me about the Hero of Fereldan. He was a Warden, and his husband was from Ant-ee-va. Did he send you?"

"No bambina, Jim sent himself. He's like the hero of Ferelden, getting rid of the darkspawn and helping the Inquisitor. You've heard of the Inquisitor, haven't you?" Illario says, scooping up the child again and continuing to talk to her, distracting her from the climb down and the corpses of darkspawn that litter the ruined tower. Stories of Jim and the Inquisitor's adventures seem to work for that purpose, and Illario, despite his exhaustion, looks a little surprised at how well the attempt to distract Cecilia has gone.

But once they're out of the worst of it, and he can feel his legs wobbling, he has to stop, lean against the wall and look at Jim, eyes full of apology. The potion helped, but he's still struggling. That's not right, he knows that much, but it's not the focus right now.

"I think Warden Jim can tell you the rest of that story. You go with him bambina."

"It's doing your best that's important." Illario says, "Sometimes it takes a little while to realise what that is." Illario once thought that seducing nobles and politicians was the peak of his career, until he got his hands on the position of First Talon. He knows now that's never going to happen, and he's strangely happier for it. And, even if he says so himself, doing better work.

Up to a point, of course. Today has been a bit of a shambles. He's lucky, so lucky, that Jim is as stubborn as they come, or he's not sure he'd have been able to get the little girl out alive. With Jim, Neve and Harding, their chances are much better. The bambina's chances are better.

He laughs a little shakily when Jim tries to get him to climb on his back. His fingers move to stroke over the other man's side and tug a little for his attention, and once Jim looks back at him, Illario's voice drops so the others don't hear.

"You could barely carry me to bed that first time, amore moi, do you remember?" He says, voice full of fondness, and wraps an arm around Jim's shoulders instead. "You certainly can't carry me across the whole of the Heartlands. Just let me lean on you a bit."

It will help. He can do this. He's sure he can. He just hurts, inside more than out, a sickness filling him that freezes him to the core and sets fire in his veins all at once. He doesn't even need to look at the cuts in the leather of his armour to see the darkening of his veins beneath his skin.

"Head for the Eluvian, then once we reach the Cross Roads, you will have to- you will have to remind me which is the one for Lavendel."

Illario always assumed he'd have children at some point. Caterina wanted the line continued, Lucanis had never been inclined towards having a relationship. If Caterina ordered him to, he'd probably get married, but having children might be a step too far. But Illario? It was almost a given. And yet, she'd only ever tired to arrange a marriage once, and when it had fallen though? Never bothered again.

But he'd always hoped... whoever he might end up with a family would be a possibility. Now it seems a ridiculous thing to think about as Wardens like Jim can't have children, in the middle of the world ending. All he can do is his best to look after the children that are already here.

Or ask Jim to, at least for the moment.

But all that goes out of his head when he sees water build in those sapphire eyes. It's all he can do to lean in and rest his forehead against Jim's, trying his best not to wobble and lose his balance. He needs to look like he's not hurting, he needs to keep this together. Jim and Cecilia need that.

"It's alright, amore moi. I'm alright. No tears," he explains, trying to give some comfort, running his hands over Jim's face, into his hair, marvelling at how soft and warm he feels. "I know a handsome, strong, beautiful Warden and he is the best man in the world, he'll get me where I need to go. I trust him. And maybe we'll both be Wardens, hm?"

Then if Jim does one day hear the Calling, he won't go down to the Deep Roads along. Not that Illario wasn't about to go with him. But now? It seems like fate.

"I'm alright. It just hurts. And we can't stay here. Lets get the bambina to the Lighthouse at least. Then you can find her people."

In all the months of their courting, if Illario can use such a formal word for something that has been anything but a formal or traditional courting, Jim has only once or twice let his real stubbornness shine through. There have been glimpses, little moments which could have just been called bratty (and gods forgive him, Illario has always enjoyed a brat) but nothing like this.

Perhaps that's because they've never had to deal with anything like this.

He tries to keep pace with Jim, Jim, who is used to moving quickly through this sort of terrain, learned how to do it in this very place, in fact. For Illario, between the growing pains in his limbs and the worry for the others, it's hard going. The three others at least keep pace, Cecila being carried once more, until they reach the Eluvian.

By that point, Illario is fighting to keep on his feet. Head swimming, vision hazy at the edges, he only barely feels the strange sensation of going through the mirror. The rest passes in a blur. At some point, he knows he's carried. At some point, there's another mirror. Jim's voice, a cooler, wetter wind blows against his face. It feels so good against his skin.

And then there's talking. So much talking, voices he doesn't know, and Jim. Jim is there, the shape of him indistinct but he would know his man anywhere, and he curls his fingers in with Jim's own, holding as tight as he can as another wave of pain courses through him. He can hear Jim's distress, and he hates being the cause of it.

"Amore, I-" He tries, but his voice is hoarse, and the words don't come out after a point.