Keen not to interrupt anyone's scheming, Jarek spent most of the trip assisting the crew (as well, perhaps, as watching them for suspicious actions and occasionally touring everything belowdecks to make sure no one with sinister intentions had snuck onboard). He wasn't shunning anybody, and spoke jovially to anyone who addressed him, but anyone could see that his metaphorical hackles were up as they drew closer to their destination.
Now, with the longboat loading, Jarek surveys the party with some satisfaction. He's realised by now that he fumbled his first words with Glen, and tries to catch the soldier's eye long enough to send him an earnest smile and a thumbs-up. This will probably all be fine, and if it isn't, he'll bodyslam pirates until it is. No worries.
Jarek taps his oar in his open hand a couple of times, like a warrior testing the weight of a truncheon. Which he sort of is, since it's a Rabhartach oar crafted with an eye to melee as much as rowing. No one would take him as unarmed with any kind of oar in his hands, of course, so the camouflage value is minimal, but it's about the family tradition more than anything. Sailing into a villain's lair like this is maybe the most Rabhartach thing he's ever done. And it's not much like he expected.
He clambers into the boat and offers an arm to anyone following. Once he's in, though, he looks to Sunrise in her remarkable garb. "Can I say," he whispers, "that it is still surreal to be doing this job and look over and see the Sunrise with us?"
To his sister, when she's close, he simply mutters, even quieter, "I'm not saying don't show off for her, but warn me first, eh?"