Isolde would be with her daughter—her birth daughter—Zemirah in the high tower when Viveka arrived. She was not in the habit of guarding herself or the Sanctum against the Valkyrie. They needn’t schedule an appointment or ask for an audience. Shouldn’t daughters be able to seek their mother’s counsel when needed?

Isolde would be in the midst of a prayer, her eyes closed and her forehead pressed against Zemirah’s. Her daughter had been ill—something which concerned Isolde more than she showed. She was a woman of deep faith. She believed that the All-Mother worked through all things and that the dips and turns on their paths were all part of her great design.

But she hoped more than anything losing her daughter was not part of it.

Viveka could either wait until the prayer was complete or make her presence known.

Viveka knew she had to go about this in a smart way. She had to have answers, this was true. But she also could not be so forward and allow Isolde to think something was wrong beyond Viveka being worried about Wren. Because now she was alone here. So very alone.

Finding Isolde and her daughter deep in prayer, Viveka stood by quietly, bowing her head for a moment herself. Even if she believed Isolde was against them, she would never interrupt someone in prayer. That would be an insult to the All Mother herself. She would wait until the pair had completed their prayer and the Priestess had risen and acknowledged her before she would speak.

"Priestess, I would like to speak with you, if you have the time." Her eyes would travel to the daughter if she had not yet left the room.

When Isolde rose, her gaze fell warmly on Viveka. She was a formidable warrior and had been a loyal companion to Wren. She was a credit both to the legacy of her foremothers and the All Mother herself. Isolde had every reason to look on her with pride, and so she did.

“Of course, my child,” Isolde whispered a few words in Zemirah’s ear before dismissing her. The young woman looked troubled and misty-eyed, but Isolde showed no such emotion. When she turned to Viveka, she did so with a neutral but pleasant expression. She inclined her head, a silent invitation for Viveka to speak.

Waiting until the young woman left them, Viveka allowed her genuine concern to show through on her face, her gaze searching Isolde's face as she spoke. "I am worried about Wren, Priestess. Disappearing back to Coheed is unlike her, and the news that Revna is now your second..."

She trailed off, considering how to proceed before speaking again. "I know there are things that are beyond me, that you cannot share. I just want to know Wren is safe."

Isolde’s gentle gaze never wavered. Her expression was set with the calm confidence that her zealotry afforded her.

“Wren chose to leave for Coheed,” Isolde answered. There was an undeniable hint of sadness in her tone. One of loss, a vulnerability rarely seen. After a moment, Isolde would raise her hand to Viveka’s cheek. She sighed, heavy with exhaustion.

“Your sister walks a path of great destiny,” Isolde said softly, “It is natural for her to doubt, to be afraid, but all is not lost. The All-Mother will guide her back to us. I have no doubt.”

She could hear the sadness in Isolde's voice. She wished more than anything in this moment that she could take comfort in it and the woman who was supposed to be their leader. The woman who was supposed to lead them out of Nevermere's clutches. But now it was all tainted. Nothing about Isolde could be trusted. It pained Viveka immensely and she allowed it to show through as her own sadness for Wren.

She did not flinch away from Isolde's touch, her sad gaze holding steady to match Isolde's. "Do you know when she will return? She had only just come home from there... And she did not say goodbye before leaving again."

Isolde dropped her hand, eyes still soft and voice as placid as the surface of an unruffled lake.

“The women of Coheed require more training. It seems Wren has taken a keen interest in their cause. It is admirable, but admittedly…” A ripple of discontent crossed Isolde’s features, “Inconvenient.” She paused for a moment, before continuing in a more efficient tone.

“You’ll take charge of the Valkyries in her absence.” It was not an offer, it was an order. That much would be clear.

Viveka knew there was truth to Isolde's words. The women of Coheed certainly needed a lot of help with training. They were new to fighting and she imagined the men were utterly useless in helping them learn. Perhaps one day she could go to Coheed herself and assist them.

She didn't need Isolde to tell her she was in charge of the Valkyries while Wren was away. It had always been that way. Her and Wren had always been a team rather than one answering to the other, and the Valkyries knew this as well. Still, she bowed her head slightly. "Of course, Priestess. I will ensure our training continues uninterrupted."

She raised her head, studying Isolde for a moment before asking, "If I may, Priestess, how have you been? Those new Nevermerans that arrived have not cause you any problems, have they?"

Isolde grimaced at Viveka’s question – a disgruntled ripple in her otherwise placid expression. As quickly as it came, it was gone. How could she ask such a question?

“The Nevermerans have always been, and will always be, a cause for concern.” Isolde’s tone was resolute, even a little short. “Their increased presence is only the exacerbation of an existing irritation.” Though they were much more than an irritation.

“What do you make of them?” Isolde asked, tone returning back to its usual neutrality.

Noting the grimace that crossed Isolde's face, Viveka worried momentarily that she had asked the wrong question. Perhaps worded it incorrectly. But Isolde smoothed out her features just as quickly and Viveka was left wondering if she had perhaps just imagined it.

She nodded her head at Isolde's words, agreeing with them wholeheartedly. Nevermere would always be a thorn in Cambria's side. They needed to be rid of them. But dividing their women by branding them was certainly not going to make pushing the foreign kingdom out go any faster or make it any easier.

"I'm certain they came here for a specific reason. Lady Norah seems particularly interested in the children. I worry they will try to take them from us entirely." She grimaced as she spoke, annoyed with the situation they had found themselves in. She understood the need for the girls to learn how to control their magic, but they would not need such training if Nevermere hadn't been here in the first place.

Isolde froze in fear. Fear was an emotion she so rarely felt, and one she was even less likely to show. But Viveka could see the naked terror in her eyes, summoned by the prospect her children, her children might be taken from her. For they were hers, all of them; even the ones that shrieked as the hot brand touched their skin. And Isolde loved them all without exception.

“Does she plan to return to Nevermere?” Isolde said, her features hardening with icy rage, “Or are we to be graced with her presence indefinitely?”

Grimacing, Viveka shook her head. "They have shown no signs of leaving as of yet. Not that any have noticed and reported back to me, that is."

Looking over Isolde, she knew one promise she could make to her. A promise she'd make to anyone, regardless of what she thought of them. "Myself and the Valkyries will never allow them to take our children from us. If they insist they must teach the Nevermere offspring how to use their magic, then so be it, but it will be done here, in our kingdom." Her eyes flashed with the anger behind the promise. With the distaste for their occupiers.

Isolde’s eyes met Viveka’s. The woman she’d see was not Isolde the zealot, Isolde the fearless, Isolde—perhaps—the betrayer, but a fearful mother. One consumed with love, both for those they named and for the Valkyrie standing in front of her.

“I know you will, my child,” Isolde responded softly, “I yet have faith.” The words carried all the weight of her sorrows and hopes—both of the past and the future. “Even so,” Isolde added, “We must prepare for the worst. If they come to take our daughters, we must be ready.”