It was odd, in the amount of time that he had been gone, he has started to think instead that Garreg Mach was home, and that the port at Grannvale was simply the place where he set off after a completed campaign, successful in the strictest sense of the word but with lingering complications in how complete it had felt.
His boots had hit the ground at the port in Enbarr with the same confident stride, and Sigurd felt his shoulders relax after the long period where it felt he had been holding his muscles taut, as though in waiting.
Fingers came up to brush the circlet that hovered at his clavicle, and his eyes dipped to the ground, a faint smile coming to his lips.
He was not the only one waiting. And he had promised to return.
He was not entirely certain as to when the caravan would return back to the monastery, and frankly, if it had no intentions of leaving within the hour, he would rather make the trip of it alone.
His eyes drifted along the faces in the crowd, milling and expectant, watching and waiting to hear from the conquering heroes who had returned with tales, busting up the line that had made the waters impassable and routing those who intended to cause mischief in the foreign unknown - not unknown for him, and yet more than it had ever been, when he came to think on it.
And his gaze came to rest upon the faintly gleaming silver that had rested delicately just beyond the scope of his vision, and it felt as though the world weighed a significant amount less.
“Deirdre! My Deir!” He wove through the crowd, picking up speed to a jog before colliding with her in a tight embrace, lifting and spinning her about before setting her gently on the ground and burying his nose into the crook of her shoulder.
“I’ve returned,” he teased, “Just like I said I would.”
Each moment since the expedition to Jugdral departed had felt like an eternity. It is hard to believe it has only been a single month since she was forced to stay behind and wave goodbye to her beloved from the harbor.
It has not even been that long since she made her way back to Enbarr in preparation of his return. What if the ship returned early? The thought that he might arrive before she did had been so troubling that she rented a room in an inn nearby a week before the scheduled return. She never wants him to have to return without her waiting again.
The very moment sails are seen on the horizon, Deirdre rushes to the dock to wait impatiently. She watches as each person departs, waving to those she knows but growing more and more anxious. He had not come home the last time he set out on an adventure. Not with everyone else.
But then she sees him. She hears him. "Lord Sigurd!" She rushes toward him, not content to simply let him close the distance between them. Husband and wife collide together in an embrace that she has been dreaming of for weeks now.
"You came home!" She clutches tightly to him, not willingly to let go just yet. "And you did not make me wait far too long." A tease of her own. "Please, you must tell me everything!"
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