"Your follower cannot accompany you here."
Mercer Frey's words cut through Faendal like a knife. He looked to his leader; surely he wouldn't be expected to remain behind like some poorly paid citadel guard.
She just smiled. "It's alright," Joi said, her maroon eyes warm, assuaging his fears, if only for a short time.
"But—" he protested, Joi cut him off.
"—I have Mercer with me, we'll be fine. Besides, we're only going in to get Karliah. Stay out here and guard our backs, make sure nothing sneaks up on us." He gave her a weak smile, knowing she only said that so he wouldn't worry.
"You go on ahead," Faendal said, shifting on one foot, hoping he disguised his anxiety well enough. Like always, Joi saw through it.
"Hey,"she held his arms, forcing him to look at her. "I'll be fine. I don't plan on dying today—or any day soon. Relax; I'll be back before you can miss me."
Faendal wasn't convinced. "What if you need me in there?" he asked, remembering the time Joi had gotten herself backed into a corner surrounded by half a dozen draugr. More than once.
Joi pulled something out of her pack and handed it to him. "The—the Axe of Whiterun," he breathed. "But this is—"
Joi winked at him. "A little motivation to come back," she clarified. "I've got Dawnbreaker. Those draugr won't know what hit them." She patted the sheathed sword at her side, a gift from the daedra, Meridia, for cleansing her temple of the necromancer, Malkoran.
Mercer cleared his throat impatiently. "This is touching, but we need to move now. We can't give Karliah anymore time. As it is, we have no idea what she's set up for us."
"You're right," Joi said, following Mercer to the door. She turned back once more toward Faendal. "Take good care of that Axe, you hear? I'll need it when I get back."
She gave him a last cheeky grin, then the door slammed shut and Faendal was left alone with nothing but the Axe in his hands.