keepcruising | (no subject)

When Kobra had been told that he would be serving as Obi-Wan's squire, he hadn't been sure what to expect. Normally jobs like this go to men with better breeding, but Kobra's managed in the last few years to smile his way into people forgetting that he grew up on the streets of the capitol.

When word had come that a remote village near the borders of the old forests to the north had seemingly lost communication, several messengers had been sent one by one and none of them had returned. After months without successful contact, it had seemed that only a Knight could reach it and report back, so here they are only a few days of riding away from facing whatever is causing this. He should be nervous, but he isn't.

Instead of worrying about what the coming days will bring, he's assured himself that Obi-Wan is a more-than-capable swordsman and that they will get out of this in one piece and make it back to the Capitol to report what they see there.

The sun is just peaking through the trees as Kobra slips out of his bedroll in the brisk morning air to get the fire started for breakfast. He might not have all of the skills of a squire at one hundred percent, but cooking on the go is something he's mastered.

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Years as a squire aren't easily swept away, and much like Kobra, Obi-Wan is of the mind to start the day as warm as possible. The wintering landscape is hard and cold and while their approach to the remote village has been arguably without incident up to this point, the newly appointed knight is certain it won't last.

Leaving his bedroll much like a bear slipping out of hibernation, Obi-Wan disappears into a thicket of trees for the privacy it offers. Regardless of the shelter, the silence of the forest provides little by way of protection. Every sound is amplified, from the cracking of tinder to the sound of the knight relieving himself. The forest has little more to add but a whistling of wind and a quiet babbling of a nearby running brook. Not even the few winter-hearty birds are bothering to sing.

As he returns, Kenobi argues his heavy fur cloak back on to his shoulders and crouches nearby the edge of the slowly building fire. He fingers the cool material of the decanter.

"I'll fetch the water," he offers, although it's hardly and offer at all. Kobra is there to serve, but Obi-Wan still hasn't quite gotten the hang of being served. He isn't entirely certain he ever will, for that matter, having spent so long at the side of Qui-Gon, only to find himself abruptly no man's servant beyond the Queen's.

He pushes up to a stand again, lingering for a moment as he looks down at Kobra. "We should be on the move, but I think there's time enough if you want to get washed up. I can watch fire when I return." Is it kindness he feels toward this younger man, or pity, or something wholly different perhaps? Obi-Wan has yet to decide, although it preoccupies him more than he'd ever care to admit.

Kobra grins up at him, warm and open. He knows that the water is his job, really, but he's getting used to Obi-Wan doing little things like that. It's doubtful that any of the other knights would be like that with Kobra, understanding and more than willing to split some chores. At times, he feels more like a traveling companion. He's already seeing more of the country than he ever had before and he's enjoying the lack of structure that they seem to have, other than the constant press forward.

He pokes at the little fire with a stick, watching it build. "Breakfast'll be ready soon." As he speaks, he leans a little closer to the fire. "You ever been anywhere this cold before?"

Lingering, he considers the question, the relative silence of the snow-blanketed terrain leaving it echo loud in his mind. In fact he had been farther north, and recently at that. The very last expedition had ended in the tragedy that now brings the two of them together.

"Almost," he answers, striving for simplicity in lieu of making up some kind of lie. He turns and walks to the edge of the water, dipping the vessel carefully to avoid the silty bottom. "Spring will solve it, but not before we're home, I wager."

This might be the most freely he's engaged in small-talk through the entire journey, and that fact doesn't go unnoticed as Kenobi returns to Kobra's side. Like the fire now prickling hot against his frosted exterior, the presence of another person after everything that's happen has helped to thaw Obi-Wan's grief-hardened heart.

"When I dream, it's of somewhere warm," he says, although it's unclear if he's making a joke or some kind of confession. Crouching, he glances to Kobra and offers over the cistern and a thin smile.

It's always easier for Kobra to take things as jokes. Joking has helped him through quite a bit in his life where his older brother had found other methods for coping. Even now, it's an easy fallback for him when he doesn't know what to say.

He smiles as he takes the cistern. "Used to dream 'bout a warm fire like this on cold nights." And just like Obi-Wan, he's not quite sure if it really is a joke or a revelation of something quite personal.

There are two potatoes resting in the little fire and slowly heating up as Kobra pokes them with a stick to check on them. "Should be warmed through now."

Carefully, he removes them both from the flames so the outside can cool enough to touch. It might not be the most flavorful meal, but having gone many times without anything, Kobra's not one to complain about anything this filling. It will give them much-needed energy for riding all day.

Boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, potato soup — they might as well be potatoes, for as often as they find themselves eating nothing but that. There's no room for complaint, though, when there are so many around thin from the season, starving in the cold. Almost indefinitely, Kenobi is humble in that regard.

"Thank you," he finally says, somewhere between grateful and tortured. Having a companion, while inconvenient, has certainly kept him from slipping into the clutches of despair. On the other hand, he's finding quite quickly that he's fond of Kobra, and he's not so sure that'll do when they're facing what could potentially be the end.

Obi-Wan rubs his hands together, leaned close to the fire for one moment, allowing himself the barest of mercy against this unrelenting chill.

"We'll have fish for dinner. I'll see to it," he says. It would be their last decent meal before they were expected to see action, and therefore an unceremonious offering. Really, it's all he can do not to say sorry we might die soon.