"Smile," she had said. "We'll be able to rest soon."
She was the only one who could ever see that smile, hidden beneath that damned gold mask for so many years. He hardly ever smiled, but when he did, he knew she would see it. He knew she would, too.
He smiles now, even though it's hopeless, even though rest is, has been, out of the question for a long time now. At least, that's how it feels to him— in between the blur of all the fighting and all the victory and all the loss, he often loses track of the movement of time. All he knows is that it's been a long time, and he knows rest isn't coming.
He smiles anyway, only this time she can't see it.