Sunshade was exactly as she had left it. Some small part of her had held out hope that Helgenish's death would have changed something for the better, but from this distance, observing the city from a small rise overlooking the gates, everything remained the same: sullen-eyed dancers being groped and catcalled by leering men, ragged street children, and swaggering guards willfully ignoring all but the absolute worst of the violence spawned by the marriage of drunken debauchery and misery.

It was hell, and yet in a way it was home, too.

Noblecourt should have been a homecoming for her, but everything she once loved about the city was cold and dead. Even her memories were tainted; she could not even imagine walking through her family's gardens now, her mother's roses would only remind her of the hours she had spent watching Simeon prepare the ground and tend to the blooms. Her childhood home would be even worse with the ghosts of her father and the men who betrayed and murdered him lingering in every room. The only pleasant thoughts related to that place now were entirely due to the man casting sidelong glances at her, a mildly concerned look in his deep grey eyes.

"We don't have to do this, you know. There are numerous caves nearby that would provide suitable shelter for the day, no need to enter the city proper."

"I am not afraid," she replies.

He frowns. "Never said you were, Prim," he continues patiently. "There's just no real need to stop here. We've enough supplies to get us back and forth to Marsalim twice, Wellspring isn't that far from here at all. We could be well on our way in just a few hours if we skip this town for now. We can always have a look around on our way back."

She glances at him appraisingly. 'On our way back.' For all his grim, stoic demeanor, the man had an optimistic streak a mile wide. Primrose dove into everything she did with one goal in mind: avenging her father. She never concerned herself with planning for the future, trusting that fate would guide her steps to the next clue, the next move, the next crow who needed to die. Her fingers rest lightly atop the scar adorning her previously pristine abdomen and she wonders (not for the first time) how much farther she's going to get before her way of doing things gets her into trouble.

Truth be told, she'd spent a fair amount of the last few years not particularly caring if she had an afterwards. Olberic, on the other hand, clearly intended for there to be life beyond revenge. Perhaps she ought to consider that as well.

She sighs softly and takes a long pull from her canteen, passing it to the knight when she finishes. "You're right," she admits.

He arches an eyebrow at her but doesn't respond.

"The tunnels near the cliff wall should be quiet." Quieter than the last time she had been there, anyway. Yusufa's final gasps for breath, Helgenish's dying screams, the rustling of ravens' wings as the scavengers gathered to feast on the bounty she left for them. "From there, it is more or less a straight shot to the road heading for Wellspring. We could be there by morning if you like."

He reaches towards her to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, his forehead creased in a thoughtful frown as he studies her face. Despite her bleak mood, the brief brush of his fingertips is enough to make her stomach flutter but she meets his gaze squarely, keeping her expression carefully neutral. Finally he nods, shrugging his shoulderbag into place and adjusting his shield into a more comfortable position on his back. "After you," he says, motioning with one hand. She flashes a brief smile at him before turning away from the city and leading him into the desert.

At this time of day they find themselves unbothered by all but the most vicious of the local monsters, but even these are dispatched quickly by sword and dark magic. Olberic approaches each battle with the same intense focus regardless of the apparent strength of the enemy they face. His decades of training were evident in every move he made. Nothing was ever left to chance: no quarter was going to be given, every perfectly executed swing of his greatsword was methodical and aimed to kill. The dancer found herself holding back a bit, using her magic to support him rather than decimate their enemies. He didn't need the help, really, though he did not attempt to keep her from the fray. She simply enjoyed watching him work.

"I seem to recall this journey being a touch more dangerous the last time I made it," she remarks, watching the knight casually wipe his blade clean on the tattered remnants of a lizardman's cloak.

"And yet you made it all the way to Cobbleston completely unscathed. Not a hair out of place, if memory serves." He grins at her, rising to his feet with a groan. "The creatures may not pose a challenge, but this heat is beginning to wear on me. How much farther have we to go?"

"Just beyond those rocks," she replies, indicating the spot with a toss of her head. "The cliffs offer a bit of shade, but the tunnel will be cooler still."

She moves on, easily keeping pace with the much taller man despite his longer strides. Within moments they arrive and after a brief search yields no evidence of recent occupants, Primrose briskly begins setting up their bedrolls and creates a cozy retreat within the darkened confines of the cave mouth. Travel rations and a flagon of honey mead provide a light repast, after which Olberic suggests that she rest while he takes on the first watch.

The afternoon has trudged on towards evening when she sits up, stretching. "You let me sleep way too long," she mutters. "You need to rest too, you know. We have no idea what we're walking into tomorrow."

He chuckles but doesn't bother to deny it.

She crosses over to him, peering outside at the purple-tinged sky. "Say what you will about the harshness of this land, but the sunsets are spectacular."

"Breathtaking," he agrees, looking directly at her.

She smiles up at him, the warmth of his gaze chasing off the growing chill of the night air. His hands slip around her waist and he pulls her closer, holding her against him. She leans her head against his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat and staring out at the stark landscape in front of them.

They stand like this for a time, watching night drape its blanket across the world. When he finally speaks, she feels it through his chest more than she hears it. "You don't have to tell me what happened to you, but if talking about it would help you get past it, I am here and I will listen without judgement."

Primrose stiffens in his arms, craning her neck but the growing shadows conceal his features. "What?" Olberic relaxes his hold on her and she twists around, leaning back to look at his face. "What are you talking about?"

He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand, sighing quietly. "Whatever is troubling you. You've not been yourself since we got within sight of the desert. I have my suspicions based on some of the things you've said, but I am hesitant to let my imagination run wild. I'm aware of how things were for you here, to a point, but clearly something deeper went on that is still affecting you." He pauses, searching her eyes. "If it would help, if you would like to tell me, I am here. I will not pry, though. Your story is your own, I merely wish to offer my shoulders if I can help lessen your burden."

"And what lovely, broad shoulders they are," she murmurs, shaking off her initial surprise, and he chuckles. "Well they are."

"I'll take your word for it," he replies dryly.

She rests her head on his chest and closes her eyes as he gently strokes her back, the calming touch and steady thud of his heart against her ear soothing her jangling nerves. A few minutes pass, the silence stretching between them, until finally Olberic shifts his weight and releases her, moving further back into the cave and crouching down to build a fire. As the kindling ignites and the flames spring to life, she begins to speak.

"I've told you about Helgenish, what he did," she begins. "How he...and others...used me. How I let them use me, so I could stay here and wait for one of the crows to come through."

Olberic clenches his jaw and nods, not trusting himself to respond with words.

"What was done to my body means nothing to me," she shrugs. "None of it mattered. The leers, the taunts, the groping...the rest. I would grit my teeth and tolerate it all again and again and count it as worthwhile since I knew one day it would lead me to the crows. Rufus and Albus. And Simeon. That bastard." She takes a few steps towards the mouth of the cavern, gazing out across the sands.

He folds his arms in front of him, leaning back against the wall.

"This tunnel, this cave...this is how I escaped Sunshade. Right over there, just at the foot of those cliffs?" She points into the darkness. "That is where Helgenish stood over me for the last time. Where he slit Yusufa's throat to teach me a lesson. Where he dumped her body and left her to rot in the sun, all for the crime of helping me. Being a friend to me. She was a sweet girl, another dancer. The only one in this miserable town who was ever nice to me without wanting anything in return." She trails off, staring into the night.

After a moment he uncrosses his arms, tucking his thumbs behind his belt. "So you killed him." It was a statement, not a question.

"I did," she replies, her voice flat.

He nods approvingly.

"He was down, and I took the map from him. The one that led me to the first crow, the right wing. He lunged for me one last time and I gutted him like a fish. He bled out at my feet. I felt...nothing. No remorse, certainly. He was a monster, less than a beast. Cruel, foul. He deserved what I gave him and more for what he did to me, to the other girls." She turns slowly, meeting his eyes. "But I didn't feel any better either."

He frowns slightly but doesn't reply.

"After I killed Rufus, it was the same. With Albus, too. Nothing changed, there was no relief from this emptiness inside me. Olberic, what happens when I catch up to Simeon? When I put my knife into that black knot he calls a heart, what then? He will be dead, and my father will still be dead, and then what?" Tears shine in her eyes briefly and she angrily blinks them away. "When we came back here today and I looked at this city for the first time since I killed that pig, Helgenish, it looked exactly the same. Nothing changes, not really. I'm starting to wonder what I have left when revenge is served. Noblecourt is lost to me, even Sunshade feels more of a home, miserable though it is. I just feel..."

"The way I feel?" he asks, his voice soft.

Suddenly she stops short, her eyes going wide. Horrified. "Oh, gods. Forgive me, Olberic. Please. I'm ranting and hysterical, and you've been carrying this weight all alone for longer than I have. How could I not see it before?" She buries her face in her hands, sinking to the floor.

"Primrose."

She stares at her fingers, her face pale in the firelight. "I'm sorry."

He sighs, taking a seat beside her. "There is no reason to be. Truth be told, it is a relief that someone else understands. I would not wish this grief on anyone but I suspect that this shared loss is what drew us together in the first place." He reaches for her, tilting her chin up to get her to meet his eyes. "That, and my lovely broad shoulders of course."

She laughs in spite of herself. "Of course. Let's not forget those."

He holds his arms open and she slides into his lap, curling against his chest. "Thank you," he whispers into her hair. "For opening up to me, for trusting me with this. For trusting me at all. I cannot imagine how difficult this life that you carved out for yourself must have been for you, despite your assurances to the contrary. The thought of what they did to you through enrages me both as a man of honor and as the man who is fortunate enough to be invited to your bed. I hate that you had to suffer the way you did, and if I can ease that in any way in the days to come, I pray that you will let me try."

"You do. You are the only one who has made me feel any sort of peace or joy since...since my father was taken from me. And I hope that you let me do the same." She nuzzles his neck, planting a gentle kiss under his ear. "Speaking of beds, though..." She pulls him in for a long, deep kiss, eventually releasing him with a slow smile and standing up gracefully. "Get some sleep. I've got the watch."

Olberic adjusts himself with a grunt, watching her lithe form saunter out of his reach and take up a position near the entrance of the cave. Kicking off his boots, he settles himself in his bedroll and closes his eyes. Tomorrow, Brand willing, he would be face to face with Erhardt for the last time.