I do not own Elder Scrolls, Skrim, or any of the chracters presented in this fanfiction. It was written purely for recreational purposes and I am making no profit from this work.

Erandur was sure that Ryla had only stopped in at The WindPeak Inn to get out of the cold. She had been traveling a long distance to make her way to the College of Winterhold, and Erandur knew there were little to no comfortable places to rest between Morthal and Dawnstar. He remembered how she approached him, mead in hand and already a little tipsy, how she sighed and poured the rest of her tankard down her throat when he hinted that he could use some help. But she had agreed, and he was eternally grateful.

There was a few months or so that he could have sworn something was developing between them. She had sobbed on his shoulder, hugging him tight when they discovered a body exhibiting signs of suicide in the caverns below Frostfall Lighthouse. She had kissed him in the ruins of Labyrinthian when he had fallen from a particularly bad wound. And she was always turning back and smiling at him, warmth and love radiating from her eyes. It was those smiles that made Erandur wonder if this was Mara's way of forgiving him, by sending him this wonderfully exuberant young woman. Ryla had to have been designed by Mara herself, the way she seemed to love and adore everything.

But now, looking back, Erandur chalked his notions up to hopeful thinking. He was an old mer and an even older man. He had done things and partook in rituals that would make anyone sick to their stomach, no one could have wanted him then, or now. That didn't explain the way the breton looked at him though, how she seemed to understand him better than himself. He wondered sometimes, in the dead of night, exactly whose memories she had been traveling in, whose words she had said, and whose emotions she had felt. It didn't matter of course, they had destroyed the skull and that was all that mattered. ...But if it had been a young elf by the name of Casimir, it would explain a lot.

Now, Ryla was the archmage of the College of Winterhold by a series of events that still made Erandur's head spin. He remembered Labyrinthian, of course, and a dwarven ruin. Enthusiastically, Ryla had promoted him to be her advisor, and had a spare room in one of the rooming halls set up to be a Temple of Mara, all for Erandur. But, even after all the years, Erandur felt undeserving of Ryla's companionship, of anyone's companionship. He often thought of leaving, and going back to Nightcaller Temple, but the thought terrified him. After his time with Ryla, he knew he could never make it alone.

The Arcanaeum was Erandur's favourite place at the College. The smell of books always made him feel at ease, and something about the candlelight and tall ceiling made him feel young again. The Arcanaeum, Erandur often spontaneously realized, was one of the only two things keeping him at the College, Ryla being the first.

Two of the students had left once they completed their studies, only occasionally returning for research materials or to discuss something specific with one of the lecturers, or even to ask Ryla out on a date once. But one stayed behind, Onmund, Erandur thought his name was. Erandur had been listening in on Ryla and Onmund when he disclosed his reasons for staying. He had explained that, while there weren't really any openings for him to stay as a scholar, he desired to act as a kind of counselor to students coming from families and races that didn't trust magik. Ryla, of course, had thought it was a wonderful idea.

Speaking of Onmund, Erandur spotted the young nord peering into a stack of thick books on the other side of the pseudo-wall across from him. Erandur smiled and closed his book. "Onmund is it?" He called. "I was just thinking about you!" Erandur walked around the wall and stood with Onmund for a moment, examining the books he had in his arms. "I thought you were done with research? Ah, or are these for a student?" Onmund stared blankly up at the dunmer, causing him to hum and shift his feet awkwardly. Erandur reached out and took "Dunmer of Skyrim" off of the tall stack, pulling a face as he read a few choice sentences. "What is this filth?" he exclaimed, trying to resist the urge to shake and rattle the book in front of Onmund's face. Onmund shrugged, his face turning red. Erandur took the rest of the books out of Onmund's arms, reading quickly down the many spines, his anger subsiding as he realized that most of them weren't filled with such propaganda.

"They're books on dark elves." Onmund explained. "Savos, Drevis, you, and Brelyna are the only one's I've ever met."

Onmund reached for the stack of books, but Erandur pulled away, removing the books with the more controversial propaganda in them. "I can help you carry them. Can't tell you how many times I've seen someone standing idly by a door with their hands full of books waiting for it to magically open." Onmund lead Ereandur to his quarters in the Hall of Attainment, where Erandur stacked the books neatly on one of the small round tables and turned to look at Onmund. He brushed off his hands, the clapping noise bouncing off the walls and tried to smile at the nord. "Why so interested in Dunmner? Are we receiving a Dunmer student soon?"

Onmund shifted his feet nervously, blood rushing to his full cheeks. "Uhm, no. It's just that I- Well, I don't know very many, and thought I'd... do... some research?" He pushed the hood off his head, revealing his short yellow hair and bright eyes.

"If it's purely curiosity, then perhaps I could help, hm?" Erandur crossed his arms and sat down on the chair placed strategically behind him. "What kinds of questions did you have?"

Onmund took a step back and looked away. "It's a fairly new fascination." He explained, taking his elbow with the opposite hand. "I don't really have any questions yet, but if I come up with any, I'll uh. I'll be sure to let you know."

Erandur stood awkwardly, teeth catching his lower lip in uncertainty. "Yes. Well. Please do. I'll be here. In the college that is." Onmund nodded and moved towards the stack of books, surveying and selecting one to begin with as Erandur left.

.

A few months later, Erandur was eating a late lunch with Ryla who had been brooding about the weather. "It is Winterhold." He had explained. "It snows here, that's how these things work." They had fallen silent quite some time ago, munching on bread and apples and stewing over private things. Erandur had answered quiet a few questions for Onmund on a number of things. Phylogeny, dispositions, traditions, worship, and more. The other night, they had stayed up far past the curfew Ryla had put into effect, speaking of cultural differences and had even delved a little bit into Erandur's personal life. Nothing about Vaermina, of course. They discussed things like his parents and how he felt being a dunmer in a culture dominated by nords, and, oddly, sexual preferences. Erandur had disclosed little information in that department, saying that many dark elves were, in fact, attracted to both men and women, but many of them didn't think about it that way. Onmund had listened carefully, ever-so courteous, he was.

Erandur came from his day dream, finding Ryla's beautiful smiling eyes on him and he flushed, looking away from her. "What?!" He snapped, but her smile only grew.

"I've never seen you so happy." She answered, lacing her fingers underneath her chin. "What have you been up to?" She stood, and meandered off, collecting ingredients from shelves. Erandur scowled after her, but she had a point. What had he been up to? If he was going to continue these... these... gab sessions, then he would need a more viable reason than curiosity. And Onmund! Listening so carefully to an old mer as he rambled on about racial differences and... and... Oh gods. What had Erandur gotten himself into?

He stood suddenly, toppling the table in his hurry and rushed out of Ryla's quarters. He'd explain later, if he could. Erandur half-ran down the stairs and into the Hall of Attainment, where Onmund could often be found reading or speaking to one of the students. But he wasn't there. And he wasn't in the Arcanaeum either. That only left the rooming quarters, but Erandur hesitated to go in there again. Onmund had been awfully bold the last time, and he feared what might happen if he returned. Nevertheless, Erandur pushed open the doors and moved through the lower chamber swiftly.

Moving up the stairs, Erandur found himself wondering exactly what it was that Onmund saw in him. Could it be how exotic dunmer were? When compared so extensively though, the differences weren't so great. Erandur was at a loss, but pressed on, moving up the stairs and onto the threshold of Onmund's room. Haltingly, he knocked on the stone archway, alerting the quiet nord of his arrival. Onmund turned away from the desk and smiled at Erandur. This smile was different from Ryla's there was... intention behind it, and certain emotions that Ryla's hadn't offered him. "I need to speak to you." Erandur said. "Urgently."

Onmund stood, his face falling, "Okay... What is it?"

Nervously, Erandur bunched up some cloth from the robes he was wearing into a fist, shortening it on one side and revealing a skinny anklebone. "I'm not sure where to start. But Onmund, it has come to my attention that you might be developing... feelings for me." Onmund's face suddenly turned a snowberry red colour and he looked away quickly. Erandur was right, he had. "Surely you understand that we cannot entertain the notions. You are but a child-"

"I'm not a child." Onmund said quietly into the shoulder folds of his robes.

Erandur took a step forward. "But to me-"

"I'm not." Onmund looked up, his blue eyes shining defiantly. "I am of 24 years and I am not a child anymore. I've traveled across Skyrim, I've had my fair share of experiences. I am not a child anymore, I am a man." Onmund hesitated before crossing his arms and muttering, "And it's not fair you and Arch-Mage Ryla are ganging up on me."

"Ryla?!" Erandur shouted "Why she-"

Onmund threw himself onto the bed, rubbing his tired face with his fingertips. "I've had... an interest in you for a long time." He began. "It started back when Arch-Mage Ryla was a new student with me. She was a young breton traveling with this old dunmer."

"Hey now."

"I was instantly curious, how could I not be?" He removed his hands from his face and stared up at the stone ceiling. "What did she see in you? Why was she letting you travel with her? Wasn't she scared of the situations you might put her in?" Onmund turned his head, meeting Erandur's. "I see now what she must have seen. You are truly a good man. You're consistent, and she would have never distrusted you." Erandur shuffled his feet. Maybe not that good, he thought. "After I realized, I tried to leave you two alone. I sated my curiosity chasing after Brelyna, but it wasn't the same. You seem to be wise, as if you've seen both sides, good and evil, and you're choosing good." Onmund spread out his arms and closed his eyes. "But after all this time, it took finding Arch-Mage Ryla at The Frozen Hearth with Enthir before I was convinced that you two weren't... an item."

Erandur laughed bitterly, and sat down on the bed with Onmund. "An item. Heh. I wish. Ryla is so kind and thoughtful. I wish she had taken an interest in me."

The two were quiet for a moment, Erandur reflecting on his time with Ryla and Onmund staring up at the inside of his eyelids in dismay. "I guess this means you won't be answering any questions anymore?"

Erandur shrugged. "I will always be here. For you, for Ryla, and for the Arcanaeum." He turned and looked at the nord who still had his eyes closed and smiled. "But it's probably best if we don't stay together past curfew. Or in the rooming halls."

Onmund blushed and covered his face with his hands again. "Yeah, sorry about that."