He wasn't used to waking up to an empty bed. Usually she was there, completely wrapped up in the blankets. He would smile and pull her closer before they would both fall back asleep. But this morning, Relle was gone.
For a moment, panic gripped his lungs. Where did she go? What had happened?
Upon taking a closer look, Onmund realized that the bed was, in fact, not empty. Her dragonling, Vulon, lay where she did, cuddled up against her pillows. One fiery eye opened and looked at him, and a little mewling sound escaped his throat. Vulon rose and stretched, catlike, arching his back and moving closer to Onmund. This comforted him; Vulon would not be here if something had happened to Relle.
"Hey," he murmured, running a hand over his scales. "Where's monah, hm? Where'd she go?" At the use of dovahzul, Vulon seemed to perk up. He cocked his head at Onmund and flicked his eyes to the door. That was all he needed.
The dark haired Nord stood up and stretched before crossing over to the door. To the doorknob, a single dragon's tongue was tied. A smile grew on his face. The dragon's tongue flower had become a sort of running joke between them, representing Relle's dragon blood, her use of the dragon's language. It was also Relle's favorite flower.
Onmund searched Proudspire Manor's rooms, but could not find his wife no matter how hard he looked. Kitchen? Missing. Smaller bedrooms? Absent. Lowest level? Gone.
Where could she be? Vulon refused to give him any more hints, only following him around and nipping at the dragging bottoms of his pants. Things seemed completely hopeless until he found the dragon's tongue tied to the front door. Onmund shrugged on a cloak over his sleepwear and excited the house and squinted through the snow.
Now that was unexpected. It didn't often snow in Solitude, but when it did, nobody left their houses. The outside world seemed to be a whole new realm of white. Once outside, though, he didn't have to look very far to find Relle. Turning around, he found her leaning against the house beside the front door.
Her eyes lit up once he saw her, and she ran up to him and clasped both of his large hands in her tiny ones. Beaming up at him she said, "You found me!" She was dressed warmly, wearing the long lavender dress and dark purple coat she wore to Windhelm when they attended Ulfric Stormcloak's 'party'. A matching purple hat, lined with fur, was placed over her hair. To Onmund she looked like a million septims.
The sound of her voice made him smile as well. "When I woke up alone, I didn't know what to think. It was actually Vulon who told pointed me in your direction."
Relle knelt down in front of the tiny dragon and rubbed her hand along the side of his face. "You're a good boy, aren't you?" In response he blew a cloud of smoke into her face, unamused by her baby talk. "Alright, fine. But you are still a good boy!" When she rose, she took Onmund's hands again. "Come on!"
As she began to pull him away, he hesitated, saying, "Wait! Where are we going?"
She turned to look back at him, that beautiful smile still on her face. "We're going on a walk! You won't believe how gorgeous Haafinger Hold is when it snows!"
Onmund allowed himself to be pulled away by his wife, who proceeded to chat about what they would do for the day. Earlier he had failed to notice the picnic basket tucked under her arm and the extra cloaks she carried.
Once they passed through Solitude's gates, the world seemed to be in front of them. The couple began their trek down the hill, hands clasped with the dragon following them.
For a day that worried him when he first woke up, it seemed that things would end up pretty good.
