Te Quiero

Though she was a homebody, Imelda could not help but want to wander every now and again.

Being out of her element in the kingdom stirred something within her. Life was one thing. Death was another. But to be between it at all times was something new entirely. Other Suns may have perceived her as standoffish or cold, but it wasn't something that could be helped, necessarily. They simply did not understand what she was going through. And it was much easier for her to be on her own -- or at least, on her own with her familiar -- than it was to try and explain her way through inane questions. Tonight, she was feeling more reserved than usual.

She had been out for an evening stroll, soaking in the atmosphere of the city and relishing in her solitude. Pepita had been at her owner's heels for a while, but was off on her own at the moment -- the alebrije wished to spend time exploring Arendelle's nooks and crannies in a less colorful form. Imelda herself was in a more otherworldly appearance, currently all bone and no flesh. A few odd glances here and there never deterred her; it was just more comfortable to be a skeleton. Surely there was nothing wrong with it.

Knowing that her spirit guide would return to her side if called, Imelda found herself straying from the main thoroughfare of the city, opting to check out the docks instead. Neither in life nor in death did she spend much time near the water -- but now that the opportunity was presented to her, who was she to refuse? The air had a faint tinge of salt to it, and she smiled, contented, as she sniffed. The evening's hues cast over the water were a masterpiece. And the light January breeze ruffled her skirt, apron flapping ever-so-slightly in the wind. She watched as the lamplighters got to work, her brow knit. 

As she physically wandered, her mind did, too. It was fine to be on her own, but it certainly wasn't preferable. She was longing for the rest of her family to be at her side. She truly felt a little lost without them at her back. After all, it was because of her family that she was even here in the first place. If Hector had not insisted on running out and proving his worth to the family, well, she would still be in Santa Cecelia with the rest of them. That... musician. Always making her chase after him, both in life and in death. The nerve of him to drag her all the way out here! Why, the next time she saw him, she would... she would...

"Recuérdame, aunque tengo que emigrar
Recuérdame, si mi guitarra oyes llorar
Ella con su triste canto te acompañará, hasta que en mis brazos tú estés
Recuérdame...."

Imelda stopped dead in her tracks. Her pupils widened, and she began to look around the street.

That music... could it be...!?

The silhouette of a man, guitar in hand, all but confirmed what she already knew to be true. It was unmistakable. His voice was unmistakable. She had come to Arendelle because of her husband, and there he was, in the... flesh? Bold choice. She gave a cursory glance downwards at her skeletal frame, bones glowing as she switched forms. If he was human, she would be human, too. She approached him with a slow stride, hands on the hips of her violet gown. Her shadow stretched under the glow of the evening, a thin gold veil surrounding her form. A single eyebrow was raised.

"Well, well, well..." Her voice was not malicious, nor was it overtly stern. If anything, it had a dryness to it. It was taking every ounce of effort to not take off her boot.  "If it isn't el que se me escapó."

"I should say so." 

The woman sighed, expression relaxing the tiniest bit as she ran a hand through her raven hair. There had been many, many time her husband's antics and natural charisma had charmed her. And hearing him sing after so long filled her with such nostalgia, such joy, whether she'd like to admit it or not. Yet at this moment, she was not quite charmed. Frustrated was a better descriptor. But it was easy for her to hide it.

"Ay dios mio." Imelda drew in a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. Whether or not this would turn into a proper lecture or not, only time would tell. Her features tightened up again, giving her a more stern expression as she looked him over. He didn't appear to be significantly injured, or even altered at all, really. Well, thank the Lord for small miracles. Though his goofy smile was a sight for sore eyes, it was the last thing she wanted to see right now.

"If you must know, I have only been here a few days." Her shoulders tensed. "But what in the world were you thinking, Hector!?"  The gait of her tone increased as the question progressed, almost squawking out of her by the time she had spat out his name. Her expression seemed to shift from her stern stoicism to something more hurt. More vulnerable. 

"Every day, someone asked me where you had gone to. Question after question day in and day out about why you disappeared again. Coco was beside herself. Miguel has been persistent!! We have been worried sick about you -- I have been worried sick about you!" Her facade was starting to crack, as was her voice. She sighed. Putting up an emotional wall like this was the only defense she knew.

"Por el amour de Dios, Hector. Why is it that you are always leaving us? You could not have just stayed home and found a way to help our village with your family around you?" Imelda knew he wanted to prove himself; he had not kept that a secret from her. He felt like he needed to make up for the years spent away from his family.

But as far as she was concerned, running away again was the wrong way to go about it.