She had noticed him, one of the first faces when she had sat down. He had also been one of the faces she wished to not focus on because all it did was bring her back to that night. When a random man showed up on her doorstep and had taken her in the middle of the night to find Ravin... or rather Malsumis, terrorizing the group of people. Calling for her, and only seeming to calm when she had appeared and he demanded the promise from her. But once Malsumis had fallen behind, it was the face of the two strangers that stuck out her to the most.

Temperance had been easier to find, as it had been her property that the green house had been on, the one that was destroyed. It took her far longer than usual to find who owned the property, but she knew it was due to the haze that night and the next morning had left her in. But before the end of the Hiems season, she had sent her letter and did what she could to try and help restore the green house, one that could start new comes Ver. But the male who had been there... Norah had no idea where to find him. She didn't recognize him, couldn't pin point who he was. Which left her to believe he was a commoner.

And a soldier, apparently, as he was now in Cambria, coming straight with other new soldiers for the season. She ate, she conversed, and when the dinner seemed to be wrapping up, she excused herself with Deimos before the two of them moved through the now familiar streets towards the home that was deemed hers during her stay. She wasn't far from it when she heard someone shout, but didn't think it as addressing her until her name, no title, no 'ambassador' added to it that made her pause. Both her and Deimos turning in time as the question, harsh and demanding an answer, came to her as he approached.

Her brows flicked slightly together, almost surprised. "And where else exactly should I be, solider?" The way she held herself, shoulders back, chin slightly tipped high and not just because he was taller than her, could have been the reminder that he was not just speaking to some friend. "Last time I received orders, I am exactly where I am supposed to be." She turned and started to walk again towards the house she could see, just slightly up the next hill.

She turned and addressed him with the same haughty air as every noble - though clearly, if she was in Cambria, she wasn’t just some noble - did little to endear her any further to him. Refusing to be deterred, Ber held her gaze with narrowed eyes and bristled as he thought again of that night at Temperance’s home, how two strangers he knew only as Norah and Ravin had inadvertently done their damndest to kill the best person that Skia had to offer. Ignorance could be excused. Willful negligence could not. And here she was, being willfully negligent - again.

Ready to confront her on this quiet street, Ber crossed his arms, but before he could get a word in, she had already turned away and continued walking with a dismissal that he had already decided to ignore before the last words even rolled off her tongue. For a moment, he watched her go. Then he trotted forward a few steps until he caught up with her enough to walk beside her. Eyes flicked briefly to the giant wolf before returning to the creature’s master.

“Okay then,” He said pointedly, not quite caring who he offended or how important she might have been as long as he got his message across. Temperance and Thom were still in Skia and therefore still in danger as long as Norah remained here. As far as he was concerned, this noblewoman could stand to weather his unwillingness to mince his words if it meant they got to stay alive. “Is Ravin here, too? Because last I checked, he doesn’t do well when he’s in Skia and you’re not.”

For the briefest moment, she thought she had detoured him enough to escape for the night. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face him or the woman face to face yet. She hadn’t wanted to face anyone for a while when the inside of her chest felt so empty.

But footsteps took up beside her and even with Deimos turning that bright gaze onto him, he stayed at pace with her. Her shoulders squared just a little. Waiting for him to yell at her about the broken green house that should be near completed now or how she hadn’t come to make it up to him what he had witnessed that night. It was Ravin’s name that had her abruptly stop and the air escape her.

She hadn’t heard his name in… far too long. Her sight growing blurry as she tried to quickly blink back the full weight of the sorrow that washed over her. “That isn’t a problem anymore.” Was what she finally croaked out as she closed the distance between her and the front of her hut. Stopping at the doorway to turn towards him, “No one is at risk from us anymore.” She told him, barely catching her gaze with his before she tried to excuse herself and Deimos into the home. Away from all the prying eyes and ears that were in Cambria.

For better or for worse, Ber tended to maintain a certain level of indifference to the lives of others around him. They had their problems, he had his, and until the two intersected, he saw no reason to pay their business any mind. It kept life simple and easy - in theory, anyway. But it also meant that when he decided to make something his business - decided that he cared - he tackled the matter relentlessly.

As it turned out, he had become quite invested in Temperance’s and Thom’s continued safety, and once more, it appeared that Ravin and Norah had become a direct threat to that. So even though the giant wolf eyed him, a stubborn determination to impress upon its master the danger of leaving her partner behind drove Ber to keep pace with the noblewoman. Only when she finally turned to him did Norah’s words and expression manage what the silent threat posed by the wolf’s presence could not.

He faltered.

“What?” Unexpected confusion momentarily doused the growing flames of his ire. Under a slightly furrowed brow, dark eyes flicked between the woman and the wolf as something sickening slowly began to pool in the bottom of his gut. The righteous, protective fury that had rallied to demand acknowledgement and recompense from an entitled noblewoman had found itself confronting heartbreak instead. Was she— Norah looked like she was on the verge of tears. She might have been a noble, but surely her feelings were not so fragile that this short exchange could threaten her composure.

Ber had stopped a short distance away from her door, but now he took a hesitant step forward. He was missing something, but he didn’t know - didn’t know if he wanted to know - what. Dread dripped from every syllable of his next question: “What do you mean no one is at risk from you anymore?”

Her eyes glanced around to see if she spotted anyone. Anyone lingering or watching, but it was the small nudge from Deimos that made her lick her lips and step aside, opening the door and her place to the soldier before her. She didn’t demand he entered, but she had a feeling her next answer, as vague as it would sound, would set off a lot more questions for him after.

“There is nothing left to be a threat.” She looked between him, and then the rest of her home.

Should he choose to answer, she’d close the trio inside, Deimos lighting a fire in the hearth that brought the room to life. A small table off to the corner, clearly used to enjoy a meal or read or send letters from. And two doorways, one to a bedroom and another into a room that she turned into a full potions and curses room. Something that screamed Nevermere if he actually got a good look. In front of the fire, there was a settee and an arm chair beside it. “First thing to know about Cambria, soldier, is that they have eyes and ears everywhere. My home was treated with a potion to block out all sound from within escaping. I can’t risk others hearing some things that are spoken about within these walls.”

Norah moved towards the settee and sat down. “I never caught your name.”

There is nothing left to be a threat.

Ber didn’t like the sound of that. His mind jumped to one possible - and likely the most probable - interpretation of her cryptic answer before skittering away from it almost immediately. For a long moment, he looked at her, the dregs of his anger dwindling away to dread. “I— What?”

When she silently invited him inside her home, he hesitated for a heartbeat before steeling himself and stepping over the threshold. Dark eyes leapt to the hearth as flames suddenly roared to life within, which bathed the room in a warm, flickering glow. From his position by the door, Ber glanced sideways at the witch; he hadn’t heard her say anything to cast that incantation. He watched Norah move further into the room and settle down on the settee by the fire before, with another glance toward the wolf, he slowly made his way toward the armchair beside it.

“They can hear through walls?” Ber asked, voice lowered as if someone could hear them now despite Norah informing him otherwise. Then she asked for his name. Oh. Suddenly awkward - the angry confrontation he’d expected had somehow turned into a fireside conversation - he cleared his throat and glanced at the noblewoman for permission before sitting down in the chair himself. “And, um, I’m Berengar Stormcrest.”

Norah didn’t comment on his surprise. Couldn’t. Half of her wanted him to turn and leave her be, to just accept that what she said was true and that was it. The other part of her was relieved when he stepped inside. Because what was the worse outcome? Him proceeding to question her loudly outside where any and all could come snooping.

She glanced up as he moved to the armchair and sank into it, introducing himself. She didn’t know the name, but she nodded a bit. “Norah… Carter. Ambassador of Nevermere.” She eyed him for a moment and felt the need to answer something that was easier than the looming question she knew he’d try and re-approach. “Cambrians are very similar to those of Coheed. Enhancements, either sight, hearing, or smell. Just as they also have heightened strength, dexterity, or speed.” She brushed a spot on her skirt. “And then their tattoos of strength make them stronger than any man. So be careful what you say and do,” she stared off into the fire. “Or perhaps just pay attention to your surroundings.”

Ah, fuck. As Norah introduced herself, Ber leaned back slightly and let out a slow breath. Her last name meant nothing to him - apart from the obvious few, the family names of nobility held no significance to him - but her title sounded important. Really important. Distantly, a part of him had recognized that a random noble would have no reason to be in Cambria, but the realization hadn’t quite hit home until now. If her position was anything like that which Ber and Zevran had suspected the latter would be expected to step into once Nevermere defeated the Eldouir, she was probably important enough to talk to the king.

Ber was very much not important enough to talk to the king. First Norah, then Regan, then Norah again— He did a lot of yelling at important people.

If Norah felt particularly vindictive toward him, she didn’t show it. Deciding not to test his luck, he nodded at her introduction and subsequent explanation. “Odina mentioned the enhanced abilities and extra strength to us, but I didn’t realize how good their hearing would be.” The words were thoughtful as he stored that information away in the back of his mind; he would remember that. A glance toward Norah showed her staring into the fire, whose dancing flames drew Ber’s attention as well. “If you’ve protected your house against eavesdropping, you must spend a lot of time here.” That she had a house, even, was testament enough to that conclusion.

It seemed she was more willing to discuss the hardships he'd face here than anything else. It was easy, to warn the soldiers who were going to live here. Better to do that then there be any more fights that were unnecessary. Event thought those would come to. It was natural, whenever there was a change of faces here, pride seemed to bloom on both sides. Cambrian's wanting to prove how much 'better' they were than Nevermeran's... Nevermeran's wanting to prove that they were there for a reason, because Cambria needed them. Which was true. No matter what Isolde and her little gaggle of women thought.

Cambria needed Nevermere. They had not upheld their end of the contract when they had claimed back the land from Coheed... thus... they were taking something in place of what they had not been handed.

"A lot of the senses... which means you need to keep your wits about you. Your words guarded... and eyes open to those around you." Her voice took an edge then, perhaps what Berengar had expected the whole time with her. Though her eyes didn't find his. "More time than any soldier has." She answered, a frown tugging on her lips. It wasn't that she hated her position, in fact she was rather proud of it. She had once been considered for the Queen of Nevermere, had made it all the way to the final selection... but had just fell short. But landed herself in a rather well off position.

"Your... female companion, in Nevermere," she said it softly, as if she suspected a Cambrian to be standing behind her, "I am sorry for what you and her had dealt with that night. But I can swear upon all that I am to the Goddess that you two and all of Nevermere will not have to worry about what happened that night repeating itself. Not from the summoning." Her voice was void.

Keep his wits about him. Watch his words. Watch his surroundings. The walls, it seemed, had both ears and eyes. Noting the hard edge in her tone, Ber listened to her advice and stored it away. It didn’t sound like she trusted many of the Cambrians, and he couldn’t help but think of how did not bode particularly well for a smooth, painless transition from Isolde to Odina. And of all the people who would know the temperament and general perception of the Nevermerean soldiers that the Cambrians held, Norah would likely know the most if she had been here the longest.

“Do you… like it here?” The question slipped out unbidden, a note of uncertainty in his voice. He knew a lifetime spent surrounded by people one did not - or could not - trust made for a lonely existence.

The unprompted - and quite frankly, unexpected - apology brought Ber up short. Startled into swallowing his next words, he silently searched her expression for any sign of a lie but found none. Only the same hollowness that increasingly permeated it throughout the entire conversation, which he, in his unfamiliarity with her, couldn’t decide whether was due to something or was simply the way she spoke. Her apology, though— He couldn’t remember the last time a noble, or anyone of any great influence for that matter, had apologized to him. No one ever needed to, even if one might be warranted, so no one ever did.

Something in him shifted. He nodded.

“He told me that night,” Ber said slowly, his voice equally quiet as his eyes skipped away from hers to stare into the dancing flames, “that there was only one way to keep Malsumis away.” A weighted pause as he gathered his courage to ask a relative of the question that had started to settle alongside the dread in the pit of his stomach. “Did you find another one?”

He didn’t want to know. He didn’t think he could let it go without knowing.

Did she like it here? A cold, almost bitter smile crossed her face. She hated it and had been thankful for it all at once. It saved her once, from being under the pressing and abusive hand of her now deceased, technically second husband, Lord Carter. It kept her away for long periods of time so she could escape, try and forget the horrors she had waiting in Nevermere…

But then she had gotten Ravin back. And she had grown to hate the time she was pulled here. For such long times… distracted. Away from the one who held her heart and still did. It kept her from him and for way too long… so long she had probably been…

“It’s… Cambria.” She said it as her eyes fell to her hands that picked at the skirting covering her knees. “It’s not home,” no where felt like home anymore. “But it’s something to focus on,” instead of the crushing weight that she knew she’d always return home to a barren and empty estate. No love waiting, no sea side waves to comfort her, no children laughing as they ran barefoot from the house with dark hair and the lightest eyes.

Her throat had already felt clogged, her eyes brimmed with tears that had yet to fall when he asked that question. Didn’t say his name but he didn’t have to, she knew who he meant. Her lip quivered, enough that she had to tuck her chin tightly to her chest to try and will it to stop before she swallows and lifted her face.

“"I haven't the strength anymore... Darling, I need you to do something for me.”

A tear rushed down her cheek as her eyes met Ber’s gaze.

“I need you to let me go. To let me rest. I love you, and if you ask me to stay I will, but—Don’t ask me. Please, I’m begging you, don't...”

If one person, just one, deserved to know what a monster she had continued to be… “I did what we both knew had to happen.” She whispered. Even trying to hold back the tremble, it didn’t stop the tears that escaped as she spoke. “What he needed.” Her tongue ran along the back of her teeth. Not what Norah needed, or wanted, but what Ravin had needed from her. Her eyes squeezed shut and she turned back towards the fire, a soft sniffle as she took a sharp breath in. Licking her lips and tasting the salty tears that had run over them.

“I love him more than anything this life had ever offered. Could ever offer.” She swallowed and then a soft cry left her. “He is everything to me.” Not in past tense, because she knew… knew that he would be the only love she’d ever have. Ever want. Her hand raised to wipe at her nose, completely unladylike. “I will ache for him until the Goddess calls me home.”

Norah stood then, almost suddenly, before she approached a small cabinet and retrieved what would be a very familiar bottle even to a soldier. Nevermeran in make and holding liquor inside. “Drink?”

At Norah’s answer, Ber paused and glanced over to see her fiddling with her skirt. That wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t exactly a yes, either. She sounded more like someone who had found a way to make the best of a less than ideal situation than anything else, which was not a great vote of confidence considering the amount of time the ambassador had spent in Cambria. Not quite sure how to feel about that, Ber turned her words over in his mind for a moment before setting them aside.

As for his second question, the ambassador’s expression told him everything he needed to know before her words ever did. Suddenly feeling like an intruder, he looked away, staring at his hands in his lap, but the whisper that broke the silence drew his gaze back up to hers. The dread that had slowly built up in his gut told him that he had expected the news, in a way, but the confirmation had his breath catching in his throat regardless.

And he is better off dead, He had said that night, the conviction behind every word rumbling deep through his bones. Even now, Ber didn’t think he was wrong but witnessing the aftermath of such a loss, even in glimpses like this, unsettled him. To him, Ravin had been nothing more than a sickly man who had endangered him more in the short time they’d interacted than anyone else up to that point. To Norah, he had clearly been so much more.

Ber’s gaze fell to his hands once more. “I’m… sorry,” He apologized, though whether it was for her loss or his role in Ravin’s death or both, he didn’t know. Borderline unable to offer comfort to the people he did know and care about, he found himself entirely unequipped to handle the profound grief of a stranger, despite their shared experiences, so he lapsed into silence and tried to figure out the best way to extract himself from this situation.

Norah, however, seemed to have other plans. In a burst of movement, she stood and walked over to a cabinet, turning back to him with a bottle in her hands. Somewhat surprised at the invitation, Ber hesitated before nodding. “If you want,” He agreed, thinking that they could probably both use the liquid fortitude, before some little voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Temperance prompted him to add, “Or I can, uh, leave if you want me to. I know I sorta— I don’t have to stay.”

His apology only seemed to douse her in ice water, making her pull herself back together. A mask of a trained noblewoman sliding into place, only her hands raising to brush away the tears that had fallen seemed out of place before she brushed the salty tears on her skirting. It was the first time she had cried in front of another person… first time she had even suggested that Ravin was no longer there out loud…

Norah would forgive herself for losing her composure as she had. The liquor was used as a focus instead of something to amplify her raw feelings. And it was enough to also make the soldier seem to debate on whether he should stay or leave. He offered to leave and she shook her head as she collected two glasses and sat them on the small table in front of the seating area. “I won’t hold you captive if you wish to leave,” she glanced towards her front door as if pointing it out to him.

“But not many get a chance to sit here and ask me for guidance on their days in Cambria or what to look out for.” She offered, pouring two glasses and filling them more than appropriate levels before she slid one towards him. “Or you can take the drink and leave,” because for her, whether he was here or out in the darkness of Cambria, she already knew that the wound had been torn open for her. Whether she grieved now or later, it was only a matter of when not if.