Cymbeline curled beneath the heavy blankets and furs that occupied the master bed in Breezehome, her home, she had been sleeping for near three days now. The battle with Alduin having worn her down, and the flight back completely wiping her energy. She wasn't injured, there weren't any new scars luckily, but she had come back with a drained sword and a near falling apart set of armor.
The moment she had entered her new home, she had practically made a bee line for the upstairs, tossing off armor pieces left and right until finally she collapsed onto the bed, burrowed under the covers, and immediately went to sleep.
It was comical to Onmund, but warranted concern for her health, and got him thinking.
The three days she had rested had gotten her thinking, things were starting to settle down in Skyrim, despite a ragging civil war starting up again the moment news of Alduin's slaying had reached both Imperial and Stormcloak ears.
She found it so, idle and political.
The exact reasons she had left Cyrodiil in the first place.
But Skyrim did have a rustic charm and was no where near as tightly kept, enough to warrant the Imperial Dragonborn to consider settling down.
The thought had never crossed her mind before, Nordic tradition was much different than Imperialistic traditions, she had learned of what they called marriage, how they simply wore an amulet to show their eligibility.
If only she could remember the name of that blasted amulet.
What was it called again?
Something related to a god… Shor?
The name hit Cymbeline in the middle of the night, sitting up and tossing covers over her lap, a smile on her face.
"Mara!" She triumphantly stated, rolling off the bed side and prying the lid of the chest nearby open, digging through the contents for the Amulet of Mara she had picked up on a whim.
Holding the amulet above her head, the Imperial was quick to slip it around her neck and crawl back into bed, she'd muse it over tomorrow.
Was it really the right decision?
Onmund had been thinking, having returned to the College and delving back into his studies. He often found himself wandering off into a different topic, it was no lie that he wore an Amulet of Mara secretly under his robes, but there was never a time or the right person for him to pull it over and let the Amulet fall against his chest.
With dragons slowly decreasing, Onmund was finding that Cymbeline was spending a lot of time at the College, having restarted her studies and going through them like wild fire.
Something was on both their minds.
They had both been thinking.
They had taken a walk, like they usually did, up the Hall of Attainment and out into the icy cold Winterhold air. There was no blizzard much to both mages relief, but a silence had befallen them as they walked across the roof top balcony towards a three sided stone enclosure, the College emblem carved through it.
"So I've been thinking." Cymbeline started with a breath, keeping her back to him and resting a hand on an amulet.
"Skyrim's not that bad of a place, with the dragons going and the College able to sustain itself, despite a war going on and three factions going into turmoil, or perhaps the discovery of the aetherium forge which is by far one of the most beautiful discoveries ever done in a life time. I mean, yeah sure return of dragons, that's cool I guess, but Dwemer history. Now that's something worth whi-"
"You're rambling again." Onmund quickly interrupted, Cymbeline did have a tendency to ramble when she was nervous. A trait he had seen during negotiations between the Stormcloaks and Imperial Legion.
"Oh! Was I? Sorry…. but no, I've been thinking. Maybe its time I settled down…. you know…. get married, maybe start a family…." She trailed off, turning around, an Amulet of Mara hanging from her neck "And I was thinking about asking you first."
Onmund was in shock, did she just ask him that?
"I-I… um…." He stuttered, trying to find words that could match the feeling welling in his chest.
"Onmund, will you marry me?" Cymbeline said shakily, a hesitant smile on her lips as Onmund relaxed, his own smile spreading across his face.
"Of course…. dear." He added after a pause, a red hue spreading across Cymbeline's face as she leapt into his arms in a tight embrace.
Days passed, Cymbeline found herself at the altar in Riften, it was a small ceremony, people they had helped arrived, it wasn't grand. There was no handcrafted dress, no bard playing in the corner, just her and Onmund.
The ceremony was short, simple and to the point, but it was also true to the newly wed couple as they locked their hands together, the twin rings on their fingers glinting in the moonlight as they stepped outside for an after party.
The night was spent with drinking, commerce and celebration. The two mages slipping off halfway through, making their way through the city and out the back gates, eventually coming to a small camp that had been set up. A large tent with a smoldering fire pit and lit candles inside, furs stacked atop one another for latter usage.
They spent the remainder of the night in each others arms, with gentle caresses and half coherent whispers of promises.
They were wed, and it was one of the times they would spend a night like that together.
And chapter two in this special update is down!
Just one more chapter and we'll be back on track.
As stated before, reviews are gladly accepted. I'll see you guys in the next chapter.