Onmund looked up every time a boat creaked.

Waiting for Relle was terrible, absolutely horrible. The last time he had waited this long for her, she had gone off to Sovngarde and been almost killed by Alduin, gaining an arching scar across her torso and mental damage. It was only natural that he was anxious.

This time, however, she had not departed for the realm of the dead; instead, a small island off the northern coast of Morrowind had called out to her. Apparently, she had told Onmund through letters, whispers of a Dragonborn, Miraak, had sprung up there, and she had been attacked by his cultists upon entering Whiterun. He had been quite upset upon hearing that she was traveling alone.

"You can't!" He protested. "You remember what happened the last time you went out by yourself, don't you?" Onmund wrung his hands, following her around their house in Solitude as she neatly placed her belongings into her bag.

"I told you, this isn't like last time!" For the first time all day, Relle spun around to face him, a frustrated but still smiling expression on her face. "I'll be fine. Besides, I have everything planned ahead; mode of transportation, companion, I've got my gear all ready…"

"Companion," grumbled Onmund.

"Hey, hey! Look at me." She reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. Standing up on the tips of her toes she kissed him once on the nose. "I'll be fine," she repeated forcefully. Onmund let out a sigh, feeling not at all reassured. His feelings were obviously displayed on his face, and a more empathetic expression crossed hers. "I promise," her voice was barely more than a murmur, and she leaned in closer. "This won't be like last time."

In response, he reached out and brushed his fingers against her stomach, where her cropped top clearly displayed her jagged scar. He followed it from her hip, up to her ribcage, and down across her other hip, where Alduin's great maw had clamped over her. She took his hand, meeting his eyes, which had fled from hers. This time she kissed him on the lips, lingering for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Jordis, who happened to be walking by on her way our the door, giggled. Relle smiled and pulled away.

"I'm off to the market, my Thane," the Nord said as she exited. Relle told her to have fun before turning back to Onmund.

"… I believe you," he said reluctantly. "But I get to escort you to Windhelm. And I'll be staying at the inn while I wait."

She had agreed on his terms, and he had brought her to the snowy city and grabbed her hand before she boarded the boat. "Try not to find any attractive Dunmer men while you're there."

Her laughter rang throughout the docks, cutting through the cold air. She tilted her head up, but before she could kiss him he did so to her. "Try not to find any attractive anything while you're here," she said.

This brought a small smile to his face, his lips curling up. "There's nothing more attractive on Nirn than you." With that she had left, and the last he had seen of her was her pale face, turned toward him and waving as she floated out of sight.

He hated waiting.

And now, every time a boat in the harbor shifted, Onmund's eyes jerked up, his face lifting eagerly, thinking that it might be her boat. A book lay on his lap, but he hadn't turned a page in about an hour. His feet dangled off the edge of the dock, and every now and then water would splash his feet. Being a Nord, he wasn't cold in his cotton pants and shirt, even though snow swirled around him.

Creak.

False alarm.

Creak.

False alarm.

Creak.

Onmund almost prevented himself from looking up, but he did anyway. It hadn't been Relle all those other times. Why should this time be any different? But what he saw made his jaw drop, and made him extremely confused.

It was Relle's boat indeed; he could see her… sitting side by side with a man Onmund did not know. He was Dunmer, that was certain; his grey skin was clear. Relle, the man, and the ships captain were all laughing wildly at some joke. Their laughter only annoyed Onmund. The bubble that had built up inside him upon initially seeing her boat deflated slightly.

Why wasn't he entirely happy?

The boat pulled into the dock, and Onmund pushed himself into a standing position, wiping his soaked hair out of his face. The man extended a hand to Relle, who accepted it and he helped her out of the boat. She stepped out, and the second her feet hit the dock, she was off, running towards Onmund, her hand yanking out of the Dunmer's grasp. Her feet slapped the icy dock and she had soon jumped into Onmund's arms.

Her face nuzzled his neck; she wasn't tall enough to meet his lips. That bubble inside him swelled up, almost to the point of bursting, and he bowed his head to kiss her. He smiled. It felt as if the weight of the world had vanished from his shoulders.

The Dunmer man approached behind them and cleared his throat. Onmund recoiled, frowning, but kept his grip on the petite Breton's shoulders. "Excuse me," he said, in almost a drawl, red eyes narrowing.

Relle spun around in his arms, grinning at the Dunmer. "Oh! Introductions, that's right! Teldryn, this is Onmund. Onmund, this is Teldryn Sero, who has been traveling with me as my companion throughout Solstheim." She looked between the two of them, still smiling and apparently unaware of the tension between the two.

"Why are you back to soon? I thought you were staying in Solstheim for… a while?" Onmund pulled his gaze from the strange Dunmer and addressed Relle. He ignored the fact that he had been out on the docks every day for the past week and said, "I didn't expect you to return for another two weeks, at least. I mean," he added, upon seeing Relle's smirk, "not that I didn't want to see you, I just…" He laughed nervously. Maybe he would be a little more at ease if the elf wasn't watching him. Onmund was one of the few Nords not prejudiced against elves, but this one was different. He hate no reason to hate this one, and yet he did anyway.

"I missed you, so I came back!" Relle grinned widely. "But I'll only be here for a few days, so enjoy!"

Onmund grabbed her by the arm and tugged her away, muttering, "Give us a minute," to Teldryn. Once he had pulled her away, he growled, "I don't know who that guy is but I don't like him. Why can't I just come with you? I don't trust this Teldryn fellow."

She scowled up at him. "I told you, he's my companion during this little adventure. I've made all the arrangements, and you haven't even met him! If you don't trust him, then please, at least trust me!"

"Well I told you, I don't trust these mercenary types!" Their voices had raised; a few guards and a nearby Argonian, not to mention Teldryn, were watching them. "You could just bring me with you, at least then I wouldn't be up till midnight every night worrying about you!"

"I don't bring you along because I would rather have you remain alive! If you came with me and died under my watch, how do you think that would have made me feel?" She was shouting now, hands flung apart, dark eyes glaring at him.

"And how do you think I would feel if you died at the hands of some stranger?" Onmund was yelling too, but why? Why would he yell at her, of all people? The look in her eyes was killing him, but he continued anyway.

She looked like she had been struck. Tears welled up in her eyes, dragon eyes now, but didn't spill. "Teldryn and I will be at Candlehearth if you want to stop by." With that she turned around, grabbed Teldryn's hand, and vanished towards the gates of Windhelm.

Once she was gone, Onmund let out a growl and kicked the stone wall. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he shouted at her? How dare he? He kicked the wall again, cursing. Of course, he would have to go after her. Maybe he should let her calm down first, or..? No, he should probably let her calm down first. Relle was a generally kind, peaceful girl, but if she truly was furious with him, Onmund would prefer to let her calm down. So instead of following her and pestering her, he went the opposite direction. He didn't know where he was walking, only of the weight dragging his footsteps and lowering his head.

He didn't realize it was night until it was too late. The sky seemed to suddenly darken, and Onmund was plunged into darkness. Windhelm had vanished behind a curtain of black and snow. He shivered. Yes, he was a Nord, and yes, he did resist cold better than others, but the cold was not the only thing making him tremble. It was Relle's absence, and the fact that she was somewhere else, in the company of some strange man he didn't know, angry at him.

Running his hands up and down his arms, he shivered again. If he could just get to Windhelm, just get to the inn, then he could see her, and make everything right.