Rowena woke up the next morning groggy and disoriented, unsure of her surroundings or what had happened to get her to them. She found herself in a warm albeit small bed, the covers tucked up around her chin and protecting her from the chilly gusts of wind that managed to seep through the cracks in the door that separated her from the deck of the Northern Maiden. Just as she was throwing the blankets off her person she heard a knock resounding through her quaint cabin and she froze.
"Rowena?" she was able to immediately deduce that the voice belonged to Teldryn, his tone slightly bleary and husky as if he had just woken up. Rowena felt an odd mixture of emotions welling up inside her at the sound of his familiar voice, and she was suddenly overwhelmed when a memory struggled to surface in her mind. She knew in her heart that the memory was somehow associated with Teldryn, but she couldn't collect enough pieces of the puzzle to construct a coherent storyline. Instead she simply allowed the simplicity and comfort that the half-forgotten memory brought her flow throughout her being and warming her straight to her frigid toes. "Rowena, we've docked in Windhelm." There was a brief pause and Rowena felt herself smiling. She was glad to be home. "Are you awake?
"I'm up," Rowena replied quickly, surprised by the curtness of her voice. His response was a mere grunt and the sound of his retreating footsteps, creaking on the wooden panels of the ship's deck. She threw the covers off her and dressed quickly before running through her pack to double check that she had everything she needed. When she'd confirmed that everything she needed was in its right place by her side, she quickly examined her appearance in the little mirror that hung on the wall opposite her bed. The first thing she noticed was the dark circles under her eyes and her red, bloodshot corneas. Although she had miraculously slept well last night, one of the first good night sleeps she'd had in longer than she could remember, it evidently hadn't been enough to fully rejuvenate her after all the crazy debacles that had occurred on the island of Solstheim. Regardless, she was just content to be back in Skyrim where she belonged and her first desire was to head straight into Windhelm and settle down in Hjerim, where she knew Calder would be waiting with a big smile on his face. The thought lifted her spirits marginally and she found she actually had the energy to leave the little cabin she'd slept in that night and face the cold, snowy world outside.
Teldryn was standing near the prow of the ship, conversing casually with Gjalund Salt-Sage, the hardy nord who operated the ship whom Rowena was only tentatively acquainted with. She'd sailed the Northern Maiden exactly twice in her short lifetime, and on each occasions he hadn't spoken much to the aloof and quiet captain. However Teldryn seemed to know him well enough and was even managing to elicit actual laughter from the burly, bearded nord, which was a feat in itself. Rowena couldn't recall ever seeing the somber man smile so much as laugh, and Rowena wondered whether Teldryn simply knew him well or if it was just his natural charm and people skills that were bringing hardy chuckles out of Salt-Sage. She walked towards them nervously, the cape of her Nightingale armour billowing restlessly in the wind. Gjalund sobered when he saw her approach, but his eyes were kinder and softer than she'd ever seen them.
"Good morning, Dragonborn," Salt-Sage addressed her formally, making Rowena feel momentarily uncomfortable. Only the Blades and the Greybeards ever really called her Dragonborn, and it made her squirm even coming from them, whom she had gotten used to over the years. To hear it from this near stranger felt even more alien. She nodded at him and tried for a smile.
"Morning." Rowena scrabbled for something to say, but she had never been very good at idle small-talk. "Erm, nice weather." She cringed the moment the words left her mouth, registering with a pang of humiliation the black clouds rolling across the sky and shrouding everything below it in darkness, promising rain.
Teldryn, however, chuckled benignly at her social slip-up and managed to cover up her embarrassment, to Rowena's great gratitude. "I think our friend here is so used to the horrible conditions on Solstheim that even this is better in comparison." Gjalund chuckled and Rowena joined him, shooting Teldryn a grateful smile when the former wasn't looking. Teldryn always knew how to turn an awkward situation into something silly and laughable.
"Well, it was a pleasure, Salt-Sage. I hope you won't take it personally when I tell you I hope I won't be seeing you soon." Teldryn jested, shaking Gjalund's hand amiably, a wicked smile playing around the corners of his lips. She knew even without this comment his level of distaste for Solstheim, and how much he had pestered her to bring him back to Skyrim was enough evidence for this. Gjalund seemed to know this fact, as well, for he laughed at the joke.
"The pleasure was all mine, Sero. Although I have to reciprocate your sentiments; I don't think my crew will want to see you again any time soon, either." The man and elf both laughed at this shared, private inside joke, and Rowena looked between them curiously, wondering what they were talking about. Rowena didn't know any of the crewmates of the Northern Maiden personally, but she'd seen one of them eyeing her like a predator sizing up its prey. She'd had to hold back the urge to draw her bow and send an ebony arrow straight into the nord's throat when he'd cat called derogatively when she walked by. She decided she would have to ask Teldryn about it later, but at the moment she was content in simply blending into the background, preferring as always to let her companion deal with other people.
When Rowena and Teldryn had said their goodbyes to the nord captain of the Northern Maiden, they crossed the gangway onto the dock and headed through the stony corridor leading in to Windhelm. Rowena waved at Scouts-Many-Marshes as they passed, and the argonian gladly smiled back, however eyed Teldryn with interest. Rowena even began to catch herself glancing at the male dunmer striding at her side much more than usual. She'd never seen him outside of Solstheim, and it was like he was a completely different elf. His chitin helmet was at his side, wedged between his arm and his hip, and Rowena couldn't help but stare at his face – he rarely took the helmet off, so it was a special occasion when she got to examine his features. His skin was clear and smooth, slightly bluer than most dark elves Rowena had met throughout her travels, and decorated with intricate red tattoos along the sides of his face that fascinated her. Normally Rowena thought war paint and facial tattoos were frightening and unnecessary, but they suited Teldryn, giving him an almost mysterious, sexy aura. His eyes were ruby red and always full of mirth and mischief, squinty when he smiled, which was often. His spiky black Mohawk had grown longer since Rowena had first met him, and he would run his hands through it when he was assessing a problem and thinking. Overall, Rowena had to admit that Teldryn Sero was definitely not unpleasing to the eye, and by far the best looking dunmer she'd ever seen. But she tried not to think about that too often, because it made her uncomfortable and unreasonably guilty.
Rowena in her keenness to study the contours and angles of Teldryn's face hadn't even noticed that they'd arrived at the side gate of Windhelm, and when Teldryn caught her staring she looked away, mortified. "After you, sera." He said, addressing her by the formal title of his homeland in Morrowind. Rowena had grown used to the dunmer of Solstheim calling her this after she'd repaired the damage that had been done to Ravenrock's ebony mining, and she was acquainted with nearly all the dark elves that made their home there, as well as the mages of Tel Mithryn. Teldryn wasn't overly fond of the resident wizard there, Neloth, however tolerated it when Rowena had spent time in his estate. He complained often about Neloth's eccentricity and his mushroom housings, however Rowena had grown fond of the crazy bald dark elf and the other members of House Telvanni. Regardless, Rowena loved it especially when Teldryn called her 'sera', although she wasn't sure exactly why.
Rowena entered through the gates of Windhelm and found herself smiling. Although Windhelm was certainly not one of her favourite cities in Skyrim (in fact it was most likely one of her least favourites), she was simply glad to be on home soil as opposed to the alien, barren ash of Solstheim. She looked over at Teldryn, who was surveying the area keenly, his mouth slightly curled in what appeared to be distaste. Rowena knew how bad Windhelm had treated the dunmer inhabitants when Ulfric had donned his false crown and claimed himself to be the true High King of Skyrim, but after Rowena had joined the Imperial side and taken him down she liked to think that at least some progress was being made to restore peace and freedom between elves and men. However Brunwuulf Free-Winter, the new jarl of Windhelm, had told her himself that it would take years, if not centuries to repair the rift between the two great races, especially if the Aldmeri Dominion continued to manipulate the Empire.
Oddly enough, Rowena preferred the Grey Quarters of Windhelm to the other side, filled with bitter nords who despised her for killing who they believed to be their true king. One girl in particular who worked the forge had an especial hatred in her heart, and Rowena was always sure to lock the door of Hjerim tightly at night for fear that she may never wake up the next morning. Although she knew Calder would never let any harm come to her, she feared for his life as well. Even he couldn't stay awake all day and night.
"Ugh. Windhelm. I lived here once for a time, you know. Filled with angry nords and bitter dunmer. Must we linger here?" Teldryn complained, running a hand through his Mohawk. Rowena sighed and nodded weakly. Windhelm gave her the creeps with its high stone walls and snowy, labyrinth-like streets. Every time she would go to sleep in Hjerim she was plagued with nightmarish dreams, sometimes reliving the events that had led up to Calixto Corrium's capture, the previous butcher of Windhelm, however changed slightly, for at the end instead of Rowena cornering and killing him in her future home's main hall she would realize that she was killing herself, and that she was the true butcher. She would awake from these particular recurring dreams in a cold sweat, and only Calder could come into her room and comfort her enough for her to fall back into an uneasy sleep. She didn't like the streets either, because they reminded her of the carnage and death of the civil war, and that last conquest where they had retaken Windhelm. She'd killed so many on that fateful day, more people in such a short timespan than she ever had. Their ghosts seemed to follow her and haunt her, breathing down her neck and whispering her name with vengeance. Even the wind whistling through the twisted corridors and alleys seemed to echo the voices of the fallen. She suppressed a shiver.
"We'll be done here quickly. I just want to drop by my house, visit my housecarl. I reckon we'll spend the night there, then hire a carriage to take us to Riften."
That sparked Teldryn's interest. "Riften, hm? Glover Mallory told me all about it. I wonder if it's the way he always describes it."
"I'm sure you won't be disappointed." Rowena smirked, realizing in surprise how much she missed the corrupt streets of the Rift's bustling city and its crafty inhabitants. She missed her fellow thieves' guild members as well, and the Ragged Flagon had become somewhat of a second home to her. It would be nice to visit, and she hoped Brynjolf wouldn't be too busy or distracted to grab a drink with her in the bar. However the chances of that seemed slim, since after she became the Guildmaster he'd been frequently ever distant, always complaining about the important business he had to attend to. That had been before Rowena had sailed off to Solstheim for several months, leaving behind Skyrim and the life she had made for herself there. She hadn't even brought Marcurio along, leaving him safe at Lakeview Manor where she knew no harm could come to him. For some reason, she had desperately needed to get away for a while. After everything she'd gone through with Alduin, the Dawnguard, and the civil war she felt as though Skyrim was becoming too much for her to handle, and she presumed that going for a vacation in Solstheim for a while would be a nice reprieve. Of course, she'd been sorely mistaken, for things were even worse on Solstheim upon her arrival than it had been in Skyrim when she'd been caught crossing the border in that Imperial ambush several years ago. Marcurio had been hesitant to let her go alone at first, but eventually he'd relented. After Rowena found out about Miraak and all the trouble and strife that plagued the island of Solstheim, however, she'd regretted not bringing him along. That was when she'd met Teldryn Sero. She remembered first laying eyes on him as if it had been yesterday.
Rowena slunk past Candlehearth Hall, nodding formally to Captain Lonely-Gale when she passed him, who nodded in return and sent Teldryn a funny look. Rowena wanted to avoid the market district of Windhelm and so took the lesser used route to Hjerim through the little cemetery decorated with cracked, deteriorating tombstones. Rowena shuddered – the blood of the butcher's first victim was still splattered across the stone, although it had faded to a dull brown colour as if someone had tried furiously to rub it off but their efforts had been futile. Teldryn eyed it suspiciously and detected the noticeable change in Rowena's demeanour but otherwise didn't address it, to Rowena's relief. She didn't want to go reliving the events of the butcher of Windhelm in waking hours as well as in her dream world.
A light snow was falling outside when Rowena and Teldryn crossed the threshold into Hjerim. A merry fire was crackling in the hearth and the room was aglow with warmth and flickering light illuminated by the torches decorating the sconces along the wall. Teldryn looked around the place, seemingly impressed. "Nice place you've got here. Although I understand why you would want to get out of this miserable city. Why you chose Solstheim, though, I will never know…"
Rowena smirked but her expression quickly changed to that of unbridled delight when she spotted Calder tromping down the stairs, wearing a casual linen outfit in pace of his customary steel armour and sporting a broad grin when his icy blue eyes fell on his thane. "An honour to see you again, my thane," he said in his thick Nord accent. He rushed forward to embrace Rowena, who gladly accepted his companionable hug. Rowena was about to pull away when she noticed Calder's arms suddenly stiffening around her, his body going rigid against her. "The elf is a friend, I take it?"
Rowena reluctantly extracted herself from Calder's grasp and took a hasty step back. Beside her, Teldryn had stiffened too, and as her eyes roved over him she noticed that his right hand was twitching by his side, as though he were itching to unsheathe his elven dagger. Rowena could sense the palpable tension in the air between the nord and elf, and she wondered if it would have been wise to send Calder a letter beforehand explaining Teldryn's presence. The two sized each other up with suspicion in their eyes, grey ice meeting fiery red in a silent challenge. Rowena knew she would have to diffuse the situation before it blew up in her face. And she was positive that Teldryn wouldn't have liked the tone Calder's voice had taken on when he'd said 'elf'.
"Uh, Calder, this is Teldryn Sero. He's a dunmer from Solstheim. We met at an inn in Ravenrock and he's been my companion for the last few months. There was…" Rowena glanced at Teldryn, wondering how she could possible hope to sum up all of the events and carnage that had occurred on the island of Solstheim. "…err, trouble, in Solstheim. Teldryn helped me. Quite a bit. Saved my life more times than I can count." She flashed her friend a small smile and Teldryn's mouth twitched, however his eyes remained fixated on Calder. She cleared her throat, putting what she hoped was a comforting and placating hand on her housecarl's arm. His features did seem to soften somewhat at her touch, but he still maintained a decidedly cool mannerism when he stretched out a hand to shake with Teldryn. Rowena watched this formal gesture with bated breath; their grips on one another's hands seemed unnecessary tight, and the tension that was undoubtedly animosity lingered in the air.
"Nice to meet you… Calder, is it?" Teldryn asked in his haughty, almost regal voice. Calder merely grunted and offered a stiff nod before they released one another's hands. Rowena was relieved that they hadn't broken each other's bones with that terse shake.
The silence that ensued was pregnant with distrust and uncertainty. Rowena cleared her throat. "Right. I'm glad you two could meet. Calder, how are the provisions?"
Always the dutiful housecarl, Calder eventually backed down, averting his gaze from Teldryn's and adopting his usual calm but aloof demeanour when he turned to face his thane. "I stocked up at the market about a fortnight ago. I'm sorry, thane. If I had known you would be returning, and with… guests…"
Rowena waved a nonchalant hand in the air, misliking the passive aggressive way Calder had addressed Teldryn. "Don't worry. I'm the one at fault, for not telling you earlier that I'd be coming home. It's fine. We're only staying the night, anyways."
"Oh?" Calder's grim, detached expression flickered slightly, betraying the obvious disappointment he felt in knowing Rowena would only be staying for a short period of time. However the crack in his mask disappeared almost instantaneously. "I will head out to the market immediately. I know it's a bit late but I'm sure I can catch them just before they're packing up –"
"That won't be necessary, Calder. I'm sure that whatever's here will be sufficient for the three of us to eat." She flashed him a smile. Rowena had always felt affectionate toward her housecarl of Eastmarch, however he was much more serious about his job than any of the other housecarls she had to serve her. Although all had been trained to obey their thanes without question, Calder was the only one whose unflinching loyalty to Rowena caused her to believe that he would truly jump in front of an arrow to save her. Lydia was fierce and loyal but lazy, Argis strong and able-bodied but quick to anger and impulsive, Jordis only wished to serve but seemed cowardly, Iona kind but soft-hearted, and Rayya intelligent – too intelligent for her own good, Rowena sometimes believed. But Calder; he embodied everything that a housecarl was meant to, although sometimes his unwavering loyalty and desire to serve frightened her. He would never so much as step a toe out of line and would never dare disobey Rowena, however his eagerness to bend to any of her whims and wishes made her feel odd and exploitative. She didn't like feeling as though she were a master of anybody, least of all kind, solid Calder. This was precisely why she often resisted asking him to do things for her, even when he offered. She had always gotten her own provisions and done things independently anyways, but no matter how much she tried to convince Calder that he wasn't just a glorified slave she sometimes needed to command him not to do the boring chores and every-day routine things in order to stop him from doing them.
"Please, thane. I'd like a walk, anyhow. Stretch my legs." Calder implored. Rowena sighed and fixed him with a look, but something about his expression told her that he really did want to go. She wondered if he had any other reason to be out on the streets of Windhelm than to simply buy provisions. He seemed more insistent than she'd ever known him to be.
Rowena relented. "Well, if you really want to. But hurry back. It's cold out there, and Arkay knows who's lurking about in the shadows…"
Calder smirked. "If you'll recall, the butcher of Windhelm has been caught and is currently rotting in a crypt in the Hall of the Dead. Thanks to you." His smirk broadened into one of his rare smiles that Rowena loved to see. "As for the cold, I've lived in Eastmarch my whole life. A little snow never hurt anybody, least of all me. But I'll return promptly, as my thane wishes."
Rowena balked. "Well, take your time… if… if that is what you wish… whatever you want." Rowena internally groaned. She had never been quite comfortable interacting with her housecarls. Sometimes she wished she didn't have any at all.
Calder just smiled as if used to this kind of behaviour from his thane and tipped his head toward her before eyeing Teldryn one last time, grabbing his thick fur coat off the rack near the door, and stepping out into the snowy and darkening streets of Windhelm. Rowena watched him for a moment, her irrational and unfounded fear of killers loose in Windhelm running through her head. She turned to Teldryn, who'd been studying her since Calder left with a strange expression in his ruby red eyes.
"What?" Rowena asked, suddenly uncertain and uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze. He chuckled and shook his head as if bemused.
"Oh, nothing. It's just amusing to watch you address him. Exactly how long has he been in love with you, now?"
All of Rowena's discomfort evaporated to be replaced by a disconcerting conglomeration of emotions; shock, annoyance, disbelief, anger. "I – he – he's not – you're – that's completely –"
"Sputter all you want, you're in denial and I think you know it. There's no way you can't notice the way that he looks at you, like a sad lost puppy just waiting for a nice, long cuddle. Quite repellent, really –"
Eventually anger won out in the battle to become Rowena's dominant emotion, and this was evidenced when Rowena extended her arm and planted her fist straight into Teldryn's stomach. Unfortunately he foresaw the attack and clenched a hand around her wrist before her fist could make contact with his body. Her other hand flew chaotically toward his head but he caught that, too, as though he were somehow able to predict every little attempt to hit him. Rowena wasn't sure if it was his long-standing battle reflexes and training kicking in or whether she was just really off her game, but regardless of the answer Rowena now found herself in the clutches of Teldryn Sero and completely at his mercy.
He tsked in that annoying way of his and peered down his long, slender nose to fix his red eyes onto Rowena's forest-like green ones. Rowena froze, suddenly captivated by his gaze. She became acutely aware of her body's proximity to the elf, and she could practically count each of the long, dark lashes that framed his intoxicating eyes. His grasp on her was strong and solid but gentle, gentler than she could ever have imagined this battle-hardened warrior to handle anything. His hands were warm and calloused against her cool, pale skin, his bluey-grey skin providing a stark contrast in colour. Something in his expression shifted – bemusement rapidly changed to something else, something more animalistic and unreadable to Rowena in her state of paralysis.
"L-let go of me…" Rowena's own voice sounded dream-like and distant even in her own ears, as if she were listening to somebody else through a thick pane of glass.
"More denial," was it just a trick of Rowena's imagination, or was his voice less cheeky as it had been before, more breathy and ragged? "You and I both know you don't really want that." His usually silky tone was now husky and low, causing a strange and foreign stirring to emerge deep within her.
His eyes searched hers desperately, as though he were trying to find something buried within their depths. Rowena couldn't even breathe. She was utterly powerless to do anything, and couldn't wrest her way out of Teldryn's grasp even if she wanted to. And at that moment, she wasn't entirely sure what she wanted.
"I don't blame him," he murmured under his breath, almost too low for Rowena to catch. His words confused her – didn't blame who, and for what? She didn't know what he was referring to, but as soon as he'd finished this enigmatic sentence he released her and drew away as if alarmed, studying her with too-large eyes. This broke the spell, at least for him. Rowena had lost her voice, and even if she were able to find it, what would she say? He cleared his throat. "I, um… I need to… I'll be back."
And just like that, he had left her. The door brought in a sudden burst of cold air when it shut behind him, and Rowena was alone.