LOGAN
The past few weeks had been busier and more chaotic than the Marshal had experienced in quite some time. He had operated late into the evening and started before the sun on most days, and that combined with worrying about his mother and sister in the same city was to say the least exhausting. He had little time for things that made him feel grounded and like himself, aside from early evening when he would be able to catch a break from duties when most were going to sup, and he took it upon himself to stretch his legs.

As council duties were wrapping up and the recovery and rebuilding efforts were underway enough for his position to step away, he would be departing Noria in a day or so time. That, combined with his curiosity and budding interest in vexing a certain someone, had led him to his destination that afternoon: the corner of the Bowery that Noora had taken over. They had worked on the project together, but after securing the location he was forced by his duties to take a more hands off approach. Noora had taken over, and by the looks of it was doing quite well.

The Marshal was dressed as inconspicuous as possible, donning his most casual clothes while his guards remained a distance behind him. He located Noora quickly, her blonde hair a beacon among the sun setting on the city. “Excuse me, ma’am?” He was still a few feet away from her when he spoke. “Do you happen to know of anyone who could give me a tour?” He paused, trying not to smile. “Ideally by someone who will not be awestruck by my presence.”



NOORA
When she had brought the idea to the Marshal, Noora had no idea how quickly and effectively it would catch on. It had been a risky enterprise (or so she thought) to initiate with so much else going on throughout. It was exhilarating to see things prospering. Especially in a place that was horribly neglected at the best of times.

Noora had spent a great deal of time there over the last several days. The previously established trust she already had among the impoverished elves there had been a big help in getting the community kitchen set up as quickly as it had been. People were eager to volunteer their time, skills, and rations to get it underway. Noora hoped that it would continue on even when the emergency rationing ran out so its impact might be a lasting improvement.

It was getting late in the day when Éodred arrived and Noora was wrapping up her shift. His voice was unmistakably familiar to her now, so she did not turn to look at him right away - in part to hide the smile his cheeky greeting elicited from her, as well as to finish what she was doing. She was smirking and suppressing a laugh at the last thing he said, and raised her eyebrows so as to look more unimpressed by his wit. “My father likes to say I’ll never have need of a sword so long as my quill is kept so sharp.”

Noora appraised him briefly, appreciating that he had dressed more commonly and kept his guards some small distance so as not to so overtly advertise his status. “I was beginning to think you would not be by before you left for Vanyar,” she commented, trying to sound indifferent about whether he did or not. Truthfully, she wanted him to see it and to be impressed. She didn’t know why it mattered to her but it did - not that she would ever, even under torture, admit that aloud.

Noora made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “Welcome to Giralda’s first Ymaret, Marshal.”



LOGAN
Being able to admire Noora from a few feet away wasn’t something that Logan was given the chance to do in their time of knowing one another. Noora was constantly on the move or speaking at length about things she was passionate about - which was lovely - but the Marshal never had a moment to just see how she was. He smiled to himself at his quip about her letter, it stretching further across his face as Noora turned to him. He tried to school his features in an attempt to not act too pleased to be there, but it was truly pointless to pretend.

“Your father is a smart man.” He offered. The Marshal had always admired people who were able to solve problems with words rather than becoming physical with one another. Of course he didn’t always get into fights - that would be unbecoming - but it had been a struggle throughout his youth and some of his adulthood to solve problems in other ways. He was learning a lot from Noora in that respect by observing the way she acted with other people, carried herself, and faced issues.

Logan looked down at himself as she took him in, hoping he didn’t look too foolish. He was only trying to blend in and not cause any unwanted attention. “I am nothing if not a man of my word.” He told her, brows knitting together a bit. “You’ve put a lot of work into this, I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Are we back to formalities? Please call me Logan…or I’ll settle for Éodred if you must.” He finally tore his eyes from Noora and took in the rest of the space. What was once an empty and slightly worse for wear building looked like a completely different place. “Wow” he breathed, taking a few steps forward and standing next to her as he admired what she had done with the place. “Noora, I don’t know how you managed to pull this off, but it’s amazing.”



NOORA
“I did not realize we had ever dispensed with formalities, Marshal,” she retorted with a cheeky smile, clearly teasing him. Well, she was half-joking anyway.

Noora was suspicious of many things when it came to the Vanyar ruler. His being so determined to be on very friendly terms with her was one of them. In her eyes, Éodred (she was instantly sure she would never call him by Logan) had redeemed his character through his work in Noria’s reparations and helping her with securing a place for the Ymaret. And so Noora struggled with the need to keep him, like most eligible men, distanced by at least two or three sets of arms length from her and owing him a clean slate.

At his apparent amazement, she gave him a shrewd look. And before she could stop to consider her thoughts before expressing them, Noora said aloud, “Are you easily impressed or patronizing me, or just in a hurry?” Realizing how harsh and interrogative that sounded, she sighed and apologized. Appending more gently, she said, “What I meant to say, Éodred, is that you have only just got here and there’s much more to this place than how it looks.”



LOGAN
The Marshal rolled his eyes up to the ceiling at her quip, but let it roll off his shoulders as he had learned over the short time they had been sharing together. Sometimes it was worth engaging with her, but Logan knew he had to pick his battles carefully. It wasn’t easy to get into Noora’s good graces - and he wasn’t completely sure that he was - but he enjoyed the way their relationship was and didn’t want to risk that with a poor reaction.

“I…” Logan began, at a loss for words at her response to his initial reaction. He was being genuine in his expression of what he thought of the place thus far, as he really hadn’t seen anything like it before. It wasn’t as if Vanyar was teeming with people like Noora to help others out in such a way. They had some small operations, but nothing of this caliber. “Is this how you start all your tours?” He paused. “Questioning your attendees' authenticity?” He made a mock tutting noise.

“Come on then, show me what you’ve been working on.” He ran a hand through his hair, a little nervous. “Is there a specific time or day you accept ration donations?”



NOORA
Noora felt guilty for her overreaction, something that may have been visible in her expression before she spoke again to try and smooth things over. She wasn’t used to people in the upper classes being so wholly supportive of her ideas at any stage. If she was not afraid of coming off as weak in front of the Marshal, she might have apologized more profusely.

She rolled her eyes at his jesting and pursed her lips to stop from smiling outright. Noora appreciated that her misstep could be taken in stride by him and turned it into a joke instead of an offense. “Ha, ha.”

Noora led Éodred to the larder first, showing him where they stored the Ymaret’s growing stock of rations. "Donations are taken in whenever there is someone to take them." While she talked, Noora straightened and organized so as to ignore how close and alone they were. “They stretch well in soups and stews, so more people are being fed for less and for longer as they pool resources.” She told him how the idea came about - a combination of having read about ymarets being commonplace in Tharsis and by having taken people into her own home where they essentially had a smaller version going.



LOGAN
The Marshal liked Noora. There were a number of things about her that had drawn him in, but one of the main reasons he continued wanting to engage with her was the way she treated him. She goaded him in ways that would easily cause him to lose his head if it were anyone else, but with Noora it was something different. It was a mutual back and forth they had with one another that others may not engage with when it came to The Marshal.

He walked behind her as they moved throughout the space, eyes following things she was pointing out about the space, eventually tracking the movements of her hands as they busied themselves. He smiled to himself at what he perceived as potential nervousness, though didn’t dare ask her about it. “I ask because with the men leaving earlier than expected, we have a number of rations that won’t be used or necessary on the trip back.” He paused, reaching past her to straighten something she had missed. “If that’s ok, of course.” He added.

Logan took a step back. “What do you think it would take to start something like this in Vanyar?” He asked. “It should be noted that we don’t have a Noora to lead the charge.”



NOORA
“People, families, they exchange their time or supplies or both, sometimes money if they have it, for a seat at the tables here. For those who are too sick or feeble, someone always steps up on their behalf."

She was surprised, gobsmacked even, but the generous offer to reroute excess Valarocco rations to her little Ymaret. Noora nodded eagerly. “Every bit would be most welcome. It is our dearest hope that this place will find a way to thrive even when the rationing has ceased. That would be…” She flinched and froze at feeling his arm brush past her. “...Thank you for even considering it, Éodred.”

Again, the Marshal surprised her. “Vanyar?” Noora repeated, flattered and a little gobsmacked that he might consider creating ymarets in his own land. She studied him a moment, trying to decide if he was actually serious or just trying to charm her. If the latter, Noora was annoyed that it was working. “Well… As you can see, a little can go a long way. I can think of no obstacle with your resources at hand.”

She cleared her throat and charged on ahead into the kitchen, suddenly feeling a little too warm in the larder.

There, Noora introduced him (only as Éodred the investor) to the people currently cooking and serving, and the children doing dishes.

Noora helped them to a couple of bowls and deposited coins into a locked box before heading to a small corner table near a broken window. "They seem to enjoy the work where they otherwise have none. It’s something worthwhile to do and their children are fed better perhaps than they have ever been. Already there is talk of starting another.”

Satisfied that he had a good overview, Noora sighed happily and proudly surveyed the room once more before settling her gaze on the Marshal. She picked up her spoon and pointed it at him, “Now, you have my permission to be impressed.”



LOGAN
Logan nodded along as Noora spoke, ingesting the information and storing it away for his own potential project - that he would undoubtedly have to hand off to someone else considering the time commitment. Perhaps it was something Kira could do, as she always liked engaging with new people.

“It was the first place I thought of. I’m not sure what they would do with our rations, but consider them yours.” He gave her a small smile as a blush rose to his cheeks. “I’ll send it over whenever it’s convenient for you.” He added, making a mental note to do that after he was out of Noora’s presence. It seemed that much of his coherence - and most of his well bred mannerisms, if he were honest - were left forgotten out in the foyer.

He recalled the last time they were this close and this alone together. It was the beginning of all of this as he had come to know it. The quake, Noora, being wrapped up in Noria. It was hard to believe it was all coming to a close as quickly as it had started for the Marshal. He barely had time to think of a retort back to her comment about his resources before she rushed them out of the larder and was carrying on with the group in the kitchens.

“Thank you.” He leaned in and whispered to her after she used his name rather than his title.

Logan made quick work of greeting those working and spending a short time with the children. He was certain he was a distraction from their work, but enjoyed himself all the same. He was playing a guessing game with a small boy when Noora addressed him again. “Oh!” He placed his hand over his heart in mock gratitude. “Now I have permission to be impressed?” He laughed then, eyes following from her spoon to her face. “I mean what I said before.” He stood up, ruffling the child’s hair as he did so. “It’s amazing, truly. Your people are lucky to have someone who is so passionate about them and their well being. Especially now.”




NOORA
“I will hold you to that,” she promised, smiling genuinely and without trying to suppress it this time. “Any daylight hour will do very well. Perhaps you could ask the king of Thisbē if he would consider doing the same?” It would be a significant contribution and she could find no fault in the offer. Even if there were strings attached, Noora was certain it would be worth the price. “We’ll need better locks and a guard...” she mused aloud, making a mental note to look into options.

It was really more for the benefit of the family working in the kitchen than for the Marshal that she introduced him so informally. Although it might have read amusingly in her letter, she had been serious enough about not wanting anyone falling over themselves for him at the Ymaret. Noora was starting to hope he would say something infuriating soon, though, because her immunity to his charms was faltering far more than she could have anticipated over the course of one meeting. By the time he was interacting with the children, she was finding it very hard not to like him at all.

“Thank you, Éodred. It means a great deal that you appreciate what this place is. And, I am truly sorry for how I snapped at you before. I… I’m not used to anyone taking me seriously like this.” Noora had a mixed expression - somewhere between gratitude and forlornness - but soon smiled it away so they could eat together.

"Something else I should perhaps apologize for: I have not yet written a reply to your last letter. Since you're here, I have no intention to, now that I can just say what I would have written in person. What did you mean about your mother?"



LOGAN
The Marshal liked being part of the reason that Noora smiled. He had the impression that she didn’t let people see that smile very often, so he was grateful to be able to witness the rare time when it was directed towards him. He assured her that he would encourage Isto to donate his rations as well, knowing the other man would certainly follow suit.

“Please, you don’t need to apologize.” He offered, sliding into a seat across from her and settling in. “I get it - not being taken seriously - you want to make sure you’re getting authenticity and I’m not blowing smoke.” Logan truly did understand, especially so after taking the seat from his father. He was young, probably a bit naive, and he didn’t have the slightest clue about running a country. He let people tell him how to do things for so long, it was a wonder anyone let him assume the position at all. He had learned to weed out those who weren’t genuine over time.

He shook the feeling away and refocused on Noora, letting out a small groan as she mentioned his letter - and his mother. The Marshal took a spoonful of soup, made an approving sound, and allowed himself a moment before he responded. “My mother is - well, a lot of descriptors come to mind - but overall a meddlesome woman.” He let out a deep sigh. “She knows we have spent some time together, and knows about this…” He paused, looking around the room before arching his brows in Noora’s direction. “I think she’s impressed, and wants to meet you. Which is part of the reason why I was encouraging you to come to Solstice.” He chuckled ruefully. “At least that way you’re not a sitting duck.”



NOORA
Meddlesome mother. Their time together. This. The Marshal could not have uttered an answer with a more foreboding implication. “I see.” Noora had a sudden loss of appetite and sat further back, folding her arms across her chest. “Thank you for the warming.”

She did not like that anyone, most especially family members of either side, might be getting ideas about her and the Marshal. Noora was starting to regret inviting him there now and silently cursed her stupid pride for having to show him the Ymaret herself. It could have all simply been explained in a letter.

“And… If I were to go to Solstice, you believe this meeting might be avoided? Won’t she be going?”



LOGAN
The Marshal let out a deep sigh, not wanting to sully the time they were spending together by talking about Idonea, though knowing he had to give her fair warning. His mother spoke to him as if she wanted to know the family better and understand Noora and her family, though he supposed she could have ulterior motives - as she often did. “I wouldn’t wish her surprise visit on anyone but a stark enemy.” He said in response, bringing the spoon up to his mouth again.

He could see the wheels in Noora’s head turning about what he had told her and how she was forming some sort of opinion about it - though he couldn’t tell just what it was. “The thing about Solstice is” he paused, running a hand over his face and giving her a weak smile. “You have a better chance of being off elsewhere - you know, many activities, places to be...” He trailed off. “My mother will be accompanying my sister to Solstice. She might be preoccupied.” He could hope.



NOORA
Generally, people in upper society were shocked enough by the way she dressed that they often left her well enough alone. From what little she knew of the dowager, it might be easy enough to deter any inklings she might be getting about courting. The arithmetic that led Noora to such an alarming conclusion was simple enough. She was technically an eligible princess of child-bearing age and he was an eligible ruler in need of heirs. Even Éodred must have wondered if that was his mother’s motive.

Still, she relaxed a little, thinking that her initial interpretation of what the Marshal was implying was perhaps off the mark, and resumed eating while he continued to explain further. It sounded more like she was just tiresome and might embarrass Éodred more than anything she was personally concerned about. At least she hoped to every pantheon that that was the case.

Noora was still unconvinced about going to Thisbē for Solstice and said as much to the Marshal. Wasn’t she safer hundreds of miles away?

“And what are these other reasons for trying to persuade me out to Solstice?”



LOGAN
Speaking from his own experience with his mother and her tactics was starting to plant a seed of worry in his head. Was his mother simply overstepping her boundaries per usual, or was she planning something more sinister? Surely she would be too occupied keeping all eyes on Kira and finding her a marriage match…

He was pleased that she took his explanation of Idonea and appeared to be a little less worried. Logan would delay his mother meeting Noora as long as possible, especially if it would push her away from him. She already seemed a little skittish around him and Logan had no desire to make it worse.

“You might be safer here…” He trailed off, wondering if she would come if only to spend time with him. He focused on his meal for a long moment. “But coming to Thisbē would mean spending more time with yours truly.” He looked up, giving her a smile. “And perhaps there will be a few surprises there, who knows?”



NOORA
Noora sputtered out a hearty laugh at the Marshal’s expense as he tried to scrounge up some reason for her to attend. “Thank the gods you’re not a merchant, Éodred. You couldn’t sell your wares if you were giving them away.”

Despite not being particularly moved by his appeal to get her to go to Solstice, her resolve not to go had relented somewhat. It was nice that someone wanted her to be somewhere instead of finding her to be a self-righteous nuisance in need of redirecting. “I will give it some thought,” Noora offered.

“Tell me about your sister.”



LOGAN
The Marshal could feel his face reddening as Noora laughed, her comment causing a smile to break across his face before they were both laughing at his expense. “I promise I am a much better ruler than I would make a merchant.” He coughed into his hand, laughter getting the best of him as he still had some lingering problems from the smoke they inhaled in the fire. “Goddess.” He sighed, catching his breath.

Logan nodded at her consideration, thinking that was good enough for him, as she didn’t decline him outright. His face softened at the mention of his sister. “What do you want to know?” He asked, brow arched in fascination as they hadn’t really touched on families at all. Noora liked to keep their conversations mostly business focused.

“Kira is…” He trailed off, trying to think of the best way to describe such a delightful and maddening woman. “Think of me, ok?” He instructed, blushing slightly. “Now imagine the exact opposite of that, eight years my junior.” He paused. “She would have already convinced you to go to Solstice, and would have you thinking it was your idea by now.”



NOORA
Noora smiled and ate a few spoonfuls of her soup while Éodred described his sister. She enjoyed the silly and probably exaggerated depiction he gave of the princess. She vaguely wondered what a sibling of opposite everything would look like for herself if her family had ever been blessed with more Sætre children. “She sounds perfectly delightful,” Noora praised, “If a little dangerous with such impressive powers of persuasion. She probably gets you into all sorts of trouble.”

Noora’s gaze briefly disengaged from Éodred’s when she noticed someone walking toward them. “Seems you’re needed elsewhere,” she remarked, nodding at the Valarocco guard approaching.