YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!

She passes his oar back to him once he's settled, holding her own more trepidatiously. Gray eyes widen by a fraction, pulling it closer. A show? She hadn't particularly intended to participate in the competition itself, but after the help she'd received just before and the grin she's faced with now --

"...hehe." --even she can smile for that. "I guess we did sign up... right?" Though there's something about the look in his eye... something tells her she'd better be prepared as she pushes them a bit further from shore. For now, however, he shrugs, and she takes his answer for what it is. Truthful or not, it's likely the extent of what he's willing to tell her; she won't pry.

"...people always recommend warm drinks to me when I mention that," Katarina admits, a quiet laughter in the corners of her eyes. "Do they do the same to you...?"

And then the conversation turns to her; and then the laughter fades. Like their little boat, her eyes drift vaguely across the water.

A small smile forms at the suggestion and the outlaw nods in response. Instantly, he's reminded of Camilla, who had been making him different types of teas to help with his sleep from the moment she'd learned why he tried to stay awake. They helped, but he always thought she helped more. She was patient, calm, and he found her presence far more comforting than anything else he'd tried. "My wife makes a lot of lavender and chamomile teas for me. It helps. I'm still not sure how much, but the routine of it is nice."

At her question, Niles averts his gaze averts down to the water, watching it ripple as his oar cuts through the surface. There are a few beats of silence at her question, and he doesn't know what to say. It's hard for him to tell what she needs him to say. "I only really met Yucie... She seemed real, but I don't know if there was a way to know for sure. I ran into her in the forest and she had that demon following her and sword she'd told me about." The way his energy was sapped from him and he'd been brought to his knees (not in the fun way) felt real too.

The doors swung open and a man with an air of danger stepped into the club. He seemed to keep his wits about him, scanning the room before deciding on an open booth near the entrance. He was big, he reminded Camilla of Hans... The thought sent a shiver down her spine. But Hans did always know his fair share of her father's plans and secrets... So if the similarities held true...

"Well that looks like a man who knows some naughty secrets." Camilla says, making her way towards the man before Niles could protest. She doesn't have to worry about Niles' protests, as the bartender distracts him with a request to handle some unruly patrons in the back corner.

"Well hello there handsome." She flashes a sugary smile and slides up next to him. "Care for a drink?"

"Just some company would be nice." The man's smile is lecherous, like he's imagining what little her clothes hide. "You've gotta be quite warm in all that though."

"Warm?" She looks up at him through her eyelashes. "Quite the opposite actually." She smiles as she slides up closer to him, trying not to lash out when he puts a hand on her bare hip. She must not have hid it very well.

"Thought you were cold." The man challenges.

"I am." She says innocently, placing a hand on his chest. A two others join the man, bringing drinks with them. Drinks Camilla didn't see get made. They slide in next to her and the man, trapping her in the booth. The man passes one of the drinks towards her. "Oh no thanks darling, I'm fine."

"You've been working hard, surely you're a little thirsty." The man raises an eyebrow, daring her to refuse. "I got something to wet your tongue if you don't want that." One of the newcomers say, adding his hand to her hip and running it up her side.

cw; drugging, attempted assault

His gaze narrows in the man's direction, taking in the other's appearance. Every look is a subtle one, trying to memorize the smaller, more distinguishing features on the chance that the man becomes important later. What reason would he have to be here, besides to discard his wealth and attempt to climb the disgusting social ladder.

Niles seen enough from his time on the streets to know what kind of person that guy was, and he curses to himself as Camilla leaves to approach him anyways. He wanted to grab her hand, to steer her to another part of the room but he knows when she makes up her mind, there is little he can do to change it. With what he can only assume was the intention of gathering more information, the outlaw returns to his work of patrolling the room and listening for any useful information.

What happens next is a blur. The man puts his hands on Camilla, and instinctively, Niles moves to help her. Without so much as a word, he approaches the man, brings his fist back and lets it loose to connect with his face. The pop of his jaw is loud and the force sends him backwards against the wall before the rest of them run off. That didn't take much. Cowards.

It's almost as though Garreg Mach itself is a focal point of discontentedness, as though the very universe itself converges at this singular spot to ensure that something is always happening…

                                                  …but that would be ridiculous.

Still, Ophelia begins her work with a manor of deepest dark.  She could feel its darkness blocks away, and she, the light, will purge it.

And as luck would have it, she's accompanied by one of her father's dear friends!  This is going to be the best séance ever!

Ophelia is especially energized on this day, which means that her powers will work especially well and they will have nothing at all to worry about.  At all.  She practically skips to their destination, and then she walks backwards because Niles is not walking as fast as her, and then she skips again, and then she pauses to look at a flower pot with fascinating energy, and then she stops.

“Hehe, it's so fun that I get to work with my father's close friend and colleague!” she tells Niles, delighted.  “It's like fate for our bloodlines to once again be put to the test together!  Are you excited?”

This house seemed to have a different story than some of the others back in Nohr. According to the townspeople, it's walls were haunted by spirits of a vengeful family and all who set foot inside met their end. Niles wasn't sure he believed it. Ghosts and spirits were not so easily seen but then again, the outlaw has only encountered the faceless and golems summoned by Nohrian mages during the war.

His brows furrow as he watches Ophelia practically skip down the hallway. She's almost the spitting image of Odin and for a moment, Niles misses his fellow retainer more than he'd care to admit. His daughter is a good substitute for the time being. And a part of him supposes Odin would hardly be his happy, exhausting self if something were to happen to his daughter while she was here.

Niles switches his bow to his other hand as he follows the young mage down one of Garreg Mach's side streets towards the old, supposedly haunted, house.

Until recently, that is. The recent war has left much of both the monastery and the surrounding town devastated, and it wasn't much kinder to the rest of Fódlan, either. Resources have run dry, supply is on pause as the merchants, towns and ports have to pick themselves back up before they can think of anyone else, and in the meantime, damaged or no, Garreg Mach has been a haven for many a refugee and lost soul with wounds on body and spirit alike, and nowhere else to go.

So, when a prime opportunity to restock on food presents itself, the Academy quite literally cannot afford to let it slide. One thing leads to another, and Claude heads off into the fields where the Turkeese flocks have been seen, his trusty bow and also a Knight in Seiros in tow.

"Niles, is it? Or Sir Niles?" Claude inquires with a smile mirroring the man's own; he doesn't look like one for formalities, but the House Leader prefers nevertheless to be certain. "Nice to meet ya, and thanks for the compliment. You're skilled with bows yourself, by the looks of it? Looking forward to seeing your work."

The birds seem either wholly unbothered or still blissfully unaware to their arrival. A few plump specimens separate from the flock; nocking an arrow, Claude looks at Niles again, the smile evolving into a slightly more playful smirk.

"Let's see how many we bag, shall we?"

With that, he takes aim, and fires.

Roll: 1d20 = 3. 1 point! Total: 1

The arrow meets its mark, and one bird flops over limp without so much as a peep. Two others jump a few steps back, as if surprised - but don't bother to fly off.

"Just Niles is fine. You don't have to worry about using any fancy, little titles with me." The lilt in his voice is still present, just barely, as he shifts his bow to his other hand and pulls an arrow from his quiver to prepare his own shot. "I am." He doesn't mention that it's the only weapons he's most comfortable with. His head was on a constant swivel during battle anyways, courtesy to his larger blind spot one his left.

He watches as the arrow cleanly hits it's mark, and the bird falls to the ground. The rest scatter away from the perceived danger, only a few feet away. "You're a pretty good shot. Not that I'm surprised."

When Claude gives him the signal, he nocks his own arrow, just barely using his the edge of his mouth as an anchor when he draws back. A few seconds pass as he takes aim, and then releases.

Roll: 1d20 = 10. 1 point! (total: 1)

As another occupies the space next to her, Eirika turns toward him. A tall man with silver hair and an eye patch, and is surprised when her name falls from his lips. It's not unusual for someone in Renais to know her name but this is Fódlan.

"That's right," she nods. "Of Renais. But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir. You are...?"

As they speak, the teacher walks by and sets down their recipe card. The top of the card reads 'Healthy Sweet Bun' and the list that follows looks simple enough.

"Typically this recipe requires sugar." The instructor speaks as they continue to hand out cards. "But we will be substituting with local honey. And to give it a little extra sweetness, we'll be adding a special brand of healthy cocoa powder to the dough."

"What's Renais like? Fodlan is the furthest from Nohr that I've travelled." The question was innocent enough, and he wanted to satisfy his curiosity. All he knew was her name.

He takes a moment to look the card over when it's handed to him and raises a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Baking seemed more precise than cooking, and he didn't attempt often. There was never a need for him to while living at the Nohrian palace. Seeing honey was required at two different parts of the recipe gave him pause, as did the healthy cocoa powder. With the amount of honey that was listed, would it make a difference as to whether sugar was used or not?

She knows he's right, she needs to do better about keeping her work separate. Normally she'd bite back, point out all the ways he did the same thing. But she just hums in agreement, too content to want to bite.

Her bliss is broken when he mentions looking at homes. Here. In Fodlan.

Away from Nohr.

She sits up and stares at him, a million questions on her mind all warring to be the first asked. "You... He..."

"Really?" Relief washes over her. "I'd... I'd like that. But..." She swallows hard, one question pushing forward over all others. "I... What about Nohr? I..."

can't just abandon my home. My siblings. My title. All goes unvoiced.

If she were in Nohr, she would be aching to leave the castle and have a home of her own. Away from court, away from politics, away from everything. And here was quickly becoming home too. The beautiful stone walls and green rolling hills. The bustling, friendly, market place.

Her siblings were here too. Mostly. But they were more than capable of visiting, and letters were enough to keep her connected to Xander and the others whenever they did return to Nohr.

Her title... It weighed on her like a stoneborn on her shoulders. It had always been the thorns that cut her hand, the poison on the surface of her drink.

She has no doubt that Leo and Xander would do anything to give Niles a title, to make him her equal.

But what if she didn't want that? What if instead of dragging him to her tower, she climbed down to him?

What if she gave up her title?

"Yes." She sighs, the answer lifting her spirits. Her shoulders drop, she relaxes again, the feeling of a callous thumb brushing over her hair. Warm, rough fingers tucking hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. "Yes I'd like that very much." She nods, closing her eyes for a moment and smiling. "Please... I trust you. Find us a good ho-..." Her voice catches on the word, almost like she can't believe she's truly saying it. She cups his face with her free hand and looks him in that endless blue eye that shined like the skies.

He hoped they wouldn't. The reform work he proposed to Xander felt very hands off, especially now that he was here, but every now and then he still wanted updates on the progress.

There had been a been a part of Niles that always thought Leo would be the one he followed so closely. It was a role he had been content in, one he would continue to be comfortable in. He and Camilla had come a long way from the start of their relationship, and somewhere along the way he'd grown just as comfortable and trusting around her as he was with Leo.

If she hadn't wanted anymore from him, she could have tossed him aside. He was glad she hadn't. He was grateful she accepted his many apologies for the way he acted. Niles doesn't think this moment would be happening if she hadn't. She doesn't need to treat him so gently and yet, he cannot bring himself to protest even a little bit. Camilla still gave him the affection he craved and it was one of the many ways he was reminded that he was loved.

His gaze flickers towards Louis's backpack as he's pulling out food for the both of them. It's kind of him; the way he thinks about other people like that. Had Niles met him at a younger age or different circumstances, he knows it would have been harder for him to accept the other's friendship. For a moment he wonders what he's packed, but they've just begun and they have sticks to find.

"Magic isn't my thing anyways. It doesn't seem like it's yours either." Whatever kinds of magic that had been used to create Eriella's prison seemed like it would be far too complex for him to understand anyways.

Louis hands him the flask and he takes a moment to peak through the opening at it's contents before deciding to take a swig before passing it back to the other. After everything they'd experienced he had expected it to be something else but it's a pleasant surprise when warm chamomile and lavender hit the back of his throat and warm his chest. "If there had been a way to bring him back with us, I'm sure he would have liked it here." Niles can't help but frown at the mention of forgetting him and their other teammates. It couldn't have been helped, nor did they know it was going to happen, but the way the world played with the way they perceived information and it still didn't sit right with with him.

In another life they would have been enemies perhaps, destined to fight to the death under banners unfamiliar, yet that life is more than a world away, buried at the bottom of some distant well and sealed for a lifetime. This one, Louis finds, is a far more relaxed one, far removed from the embers of war, and he for one intends to make the most of it in the time he has found himself given.

"I tried to learn once you know, but I found that the lance is far more dangerous of a calling in my hand than the art of mystics." It hadn't stopped him from attempting to understand the prison of course, yet the world had left him with little more than a sea of questions waiting for him to answer.

Louis weighs the stick in his hand twice before hefting it overhead and pivoting his arm hard enough to send it soaring through the air, flying free before it arcs to sink deep into the depths of the forest. In a breath he turns, pulling his own flask and letting the lavender linger against his senses, pulling him into a lull of calmness. "I tried, I'll admit, to drag him back through the mirror, and yet whatever magic kept him resident was insistent he remains there." The once retainer suspects no one else truly managed to notice, not the haphazard efforts of a slightly desperate man attempting to drag another out of a prison undeserved.

"You're pretty handsome yourself." She tucks a deep purple tulip into the collar of his shirt, letting her fingers graze against his skin when she withdrew her hand.

The lights begin to dim as the festivities for the second part of the night begins. Magic glowing butterflies light the edges of the halls and walkways, providing a small amount of light.

She sticks the flower into the collar of his shirt and Niles can't help but smile in return now. It's soft and warm, and unlike the smile he normally gives, this one isn't full of mischief. It's grows a bit more difficult to see as the lights dim, and a part of him wants to venture outside to look at the moon and the stars. He hasn't gotten very many opportunities to do so since arriving, but he is content sitting here with her. And with the weight of her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

Her question gives him pause, only for a moment, as he tries to think of how he wants to give her his answer. "Only sometimes. Just to see how well the reforms for the criminal population are working." His feelings were a little complicated in that regard. Nohr was home, it always would be. Though Niles felt that there wasn't a whole lot for him there when the some of the people who were most important to him were here.

"They had something like this in Fortuna, didn't they...?" Katarina looks up at the device, holding it slightly overhead, lens pointed toward the window and ceiling. With a gentle touch, she turns it and adjusts, watching the intersection of day and dusk grow nearer, farther, and nearer again. "But it didn't turn into something you could touch like this, usually..."

She points it at Niles next, unaware that this new and improved photo-artifex isn't quite tall enough to hide the quiet smile behind it. Her finger taps against the button, but nothing clicks; she hadn't yet actually asked if he wanted a picture taken, after all.

"...I like it, though." Lowering her hands, she glances back at him, at the bouquet in his hands. Lilies seem a much happier flower than roses. But it's a bit rude of her to keep looking back on the past like this, isn't it? Despite everything, when she had emerged from the mirror, somehow she had brought her friendships with her.

For a moment he glances around for the rest of their teammates. He needed to find them later, just to catch up and see how they were doing. Maybe see if he could snag a flower if they were willing. For now, his focus was Katarina. "I'd love that. Come here." He gestures for her to close the space between them and then plucks one of his lilies from his bouquet to pass it off to her.