Kara closed the book and sat it beside her when Hallbjorn began to tell her of his time fighting alongside Kristoff. It was difficult to reconcile the man that she knew to the one that was a hired sword. She wanted to ask if he had only chosen to fight for the side of good, since the Forebearers seemed leagues better then the Horde. But Kara came to realize that in Hallbjorn's long life, there was undoubtedly things that he had done that he was not proud of. What truly mattered was who he was now, and Kara believed him to be a good and decent man.<br/><br/>She did not miss that brief flash of pain in his voice when he spoke of the broken trust between Helgi and himself. Hallbjorn was so good at schooling his expression that she might have dismissed it as her imagination, except that what he told her had to have pained him. Because it did pain her.<br/><br/>Kara did not understand entirely what he was telling her, because it felt as though he was only sharing pieces of the whole story. Her breath caught though, when he told her that he had spent a century in a hell plane where he died every day. When his hand moved to rest on her knee, she covered it with both of her hands.<br/><br/>She was already shaking her head before he finished. “I don't need a steakhouse or a movie or anything, Hallbjorn. Because you have nothing to apologize for. I want to know everything about you, even if it is difficult for me to hear.”<br/><br/>Kara picked his hand up in both of hers, and brought it to her lips so she could kiss his palm, then placed it back upon her knee. “Will you please tell me what happened?  What made the sword so special, and why did he give it up?” Kara frowned, because even though he said he was in a hell realm, she did not fully understand what that meant. “How did you end up in a hell realm, and how did you escape?”