"What is it lizard?"

Garuss scowled, or at least what was the equivalent of a scowl to his species. He held his tongue, wanting nothing more then to give the Imperial guard a good verbal lashing. This 'lizard' was Thane in this hold and all others.

This lizard was the man who slew Ulfric Stormcloak.

This lizard was the dovahkiin!

He was more Nord then any of them.

He quickly stomped his arrogance, not keen on the path his mind was carrying him. He found it better to not be bitter, as it was key to being sane under such a heavy burden.

His battle with the fabled Alduin was so close that he could almost feel the dragon's words cascade over his scaled flesh, freezing and burning. His confrontation on the throat of the world had left him on his knees, his skin numb from the constant abuse, and his throat hoarse from his thu'um.

He was grateful to Paarthurnax for his help. And so when Delphine and Esbern tasked him to kill the dragon to gain their trust, he refused. This dragon was the key to keeping the peace after Alduin's defeat. Without a peaceful teacher of the word, the dragons would continue their attacks.

Delphine called him a fool for it.

Was it foolish to have faith in another? Perhaps it was. Skyrim was a harsh land. The people cold and unfriendly to those who were not Nords themselves.

Still, the Argonian managed to make friends. Some of whom were in high places. Jarls, Orc Chieftains, mages from the collage. He managed to carve himself a spot in every hold. He even got on the good side of the Black-Briars, earning a slight amount of trust from Maven when he proved himself in the Thieves Guild.

God damned he hated that woman. Pity she became Jarl after Ulfric was killed. He was sure his friend Mjoll was furious with such an outcome.

He was certainly glad she did not know he was Guild Master now.

Still, being a Thane, the Harbinger of the companions, or even the Dovahkiin wasn't enough for everyone. After all, he was just a 'lizard'.

Garuss turned to look at his housecarl, Iona. The proud woman was eyeing a stall in the market place. More importantly, a rather nice looking ebony war ax. His eyes trailed down to her hand, a ring adorning it.

His eyes left her hand to his, a matching band adorning one of his clawed fingers.

Iona his housecarl.

Iona his wife.

"You want it?"

The Nord woman blinked, quickly looking to him. She did not blush, or look even the slightest sheepish. She was no blushing bride, that was for certain. "My current ax suits me, my thane." she said, her hands sliding over the blade of her steal war ax.

To him, it looked old an dull. He had money to spare.

Garuss went to the stall, grasping the ax and looking it over with a keen eye. Half way into his quest, he had tossed aside one handed weapons in favor of two handed ones. He shrugged his shoulders, Bloodskal clanging against his ebony mail.

"You have to pay for that." the stall owner said, frowning at him.

He was honestly glad he wasn't a Khajiit some times. They probably were chased out of shops and market places all the time. Still, Argonians were thieves to most.

Well... Granted he was a thief. He could pick even the hardest locks, never loosing a lockpick in the process. But that was when he was on a job. He was a civilian today, and had every intention to pay.

Now if only he was as good at picking pockets... Or casting spells. Or even smiting. He had all those blasted dragon scales and bones just laying in his cellar.

"Are you listening to me Lizard?" The Nord asked, growing angry at his obvious lack of confirmation on having to pay.

Garuss continued to ignore the man, giving a swing. It was well balanced he had to admit.

"Lizard! I'm warning you!"

One moment, Iona was behind him, the next she was grasping the collar of the Nord's tunic.

"You do not threaten my husband." she spat, "And you will not call him lizard! You will give him the respect he deserves."

The whole market grew quiet, watching the confrontation play out before running to get the guards.

"You're married to that beast?"

"That beast is Thane of Haafingar." Iona snarled, "And a better warrior then half the men in Skyrim. He is the one who brought Ulfric to his grave. He is the one who speaks the Thu'um as effortlessly as the dragons themselves."

Garuss intervened, his hands grasping Iona's shoulders. "My dearest, it is nothing. Let him live in his ignorance." Despite his words, he felt pleased at how willing the woman was to say she was his wife. He often wondered if she had flaunted that fact to others when they had still lived in Riften.

Iona let the man go, though she shoved him as she did so, sending him over a few crates. She didn't look flustered, though the anger was obvious. "Lets leave this place, my Thane."

Garuss nodded, his hands never leaving her shoulders as he led her away and towards Proudspire Manor. They were far from Heljarchen Hall, and so this would have to do. He pushed open the door. "Have a seat, Iona. I'll make you something to eat."

Garuss nodded to Jordis who was seated at the kitchen table.

What did he have on him? Some venision... Potatos. He always had potatoes. Salt that he had gotten off a necromancer a few days ago. It was almost looking like venision stew.

"Jordis, do we have leeks?"

"Yes, my Thane. Down stairs in the alchemy lab." Jordis said, sipping from her tankard.

"Of course it is." Garuss said, taking the winding stairs down to the cellar. Why were they in the alchemy lab? As far as he knew leeks were not used for potions. That was another thing he needed to practice. Potions. He was running low on them, as he was using them with reckless abandon to heal himself.

The dragons were just getting more and more powerful.

He shifted through some mushrooms and gourds, making a pleased hum as he found some leeks. They looked fresh enough. He returned to the kitchen, using his dagger to cut everything up. He took a boiled creme treat, popping it into his mouth.

They were favorite. All his homes were full of them, ready for him to eat.

If only he knew how to make them.

Iona had not moved from her seat, a scowl still plaster on her face. A bit of bread was clutched in her hand. "Does everyone treat you that way, my Thane?"

Garuss tail wagged slightly as he looked over his shoulder. "No. Not everyone. A good few are just gad for business." He ran his fingers though the plumage on his head, tossing everything into the cooking pot.

He sighed, going to Iona and kneeling in front of her. "You should not have reacted in that way." he said, taking her hands into his own. They were small and rather dainty, but her palms were thick with calluses, her nails cracked and filthy.

They were beautiful.

"No woman should stand by as her husband is insulted and treated like a criminal." Iona said, pursing her lips.

Garuss was a criminal. But he refrained from telling her that. He looked up at her, flashing his teeth in an attempted smile. "You are exquisite."

Iona didn't blush at his compliment, but she did smile. Showing a rare moment of intimacy, she ran her fingers through Garuss' plumage, her rough hands rubbing his horns next, finally scratching under his chin.

Garuss growled in delight, his icy blue eyes narrowing. Regretfully he stood, though he too offered her a bit of intimacy, running his knuckles agains her cheek.

He returned to his cooking. His tail slowly waved side to side, bumping into a kettle now and then. His tail was always so awkward, and a point of minor weakness. How many times had bandits threatened to cut his tale off and eat it?

Or turn his scaly hide into leather?

It was best not to really think of it at the moment. Tonight, he hoped to share a meal with his wife, and thinking of unsavory people would ruin his mood.

He took a bowl and poured a bit of the venison stew, holding it out to Iona, who took it graciously.

They ate in comfortable silence, Jordis having gone down into the cellar to give them privacy.

The house was quiet, not like their home in the Pale. There they had Oriella, who played music almost constantly. Garuss looked to the door, frowning as he thought about his steward at Heljarchen Hall.

"I hope Gregor is keeping everything in order." he muttered, taking a swig of a nearby bottle of mead.

"Gregor is competent, my Thane. More then you give him credit for." Iona chided, "While you were away he took down a giant that was after our cow single handedly."

Garuss hummed in response, finishing his stew and mead. He wasn't too fond of Gregor. He was competent when he accompanied the dovahkiin on forays into the wilderness and when asked to do basic up keep of the manor.

But defending it was another matter. Garuss already lost several chickens, horses, and cows to bandits and giants.

"I'll believe it when I see it." the Argonain said, flashing his teeth in another attempt at a smile.

He stood, taking another creme treat and eating it. God these were simply amazing. Why were these so rare back in Black Marsh? Granted they had their share of sweets. Namely berries that grew in the swamps.

Garuss suddenly found himself home sick. He missed the warmer waters. Most of all he missed his mother and father, whom he had not seen since he had left home for the north of Tamriel. Were they still living? It was impossible to know, as they had lived rather deep into the swamps.

When this was all over, he hoped to return. Though, with Iona now his wife, the chance of him returning was slim.

He blinked as he felt Iona take his hand in her own. She was looking at him, concern etched on her face.

"You look sad, dear." Iona said, dropping his title of 'Thane' to use a more comforting term.

He found it funny she could read him. Most simply could not for obvious reason. His face was nothing like any man's or mer's.

"Thinking of home. It is nothing, love." Garuss pulled Iona to her feet, "Let us sleep. It will be a long walk to Heljarchen Hall. I'll make you a new war axe."

Iona smiled, not saying a word.

No words were needed.