Stories of Skyrim

Revyn Sadri

I have a thing for elves. I don't know if that's been coming across, but it's definitely a thing.

Revyn sifted through the bag of Dwemer cutlery with expert hands. It wasn't a particularly good haul and he'd be lucky to sell the lot to cover his meals for the week. At first, the little trinkets had been novelties. Wealthy locals had snatched them up by the dozen and put them on display, bragging about the dangers not-fought to get them. He'd sold nothing but Dwemer junk for weeks- in the beginning.

Now, supply outweighed demand. He couldn't give them away. Of course, the blacksmith still took most of the better-quality metal to melt down. Even that was getting old. Revyn was resorting to trading with the Khajiit, and even they were growing tired of his trying to wheedle cash for scrap from them.

But he still took every single one.

The potential dive his bottom line took was worth it to see the culprit. Naldyne Morayne, explorer extraordinaire, itinerant irritant, and the single living relic of Revyn's life before Windhelm, had turned his shop from a general goods to a treasure-hunter's dream. Calixto wept to behold the treasures Naldyne dragged across Skyrim just to sell them for pittance in the shop.

Naldyne was currently picking her way through the thin shelf of potions. Revyn half watched her more than he took any real notice of what was in the bag. She'd already shed her travel clothes for a comfortable dress, her black hair loose and falling straight down her back. As impressive as she looked in full ebony armour, Revyn much preferred her like this. Casual, softer, relaxed; a face she only showed to him. The privilege was as intoxicating as sujamma.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, making sure she heard the tease in his tone. "You know there are a dozen traders between here and the Reach?"

A winning smile was sent his way, complete with batting eyelashes. Naldyne blew him a kiss across the store. "You're my one and only."

He rolled his eyes.

"Come on," she groaned. "Not even a smile? Tough crowd."

Revyn slid the bag of cutlery under his counter. "I can offer a coin a dozen."

"You're a hard man to please, Sadri."

"I can't sell it for more than that anymore. Nobody is buying," he countered, ignoring the pleading look on her face. Money wasn't her aim. Even when they had nothing but the clothes on their backs and the ash in their lungs, Naldyne had been more interested in the game of bartering than in any physical prize.

She pouted and hopped up onto the counter.

"There's a walkway, Naldyne," he said, pointing. Naldyne's crimson eyes were crinkled with mischief. She flicked her fingers toward the door, the lock clicking in place. "You've been practising."

She nodded, pleased at the unspoken praise. "Just a few useful spells," she beamed. Swinging her legs over, she pulled him by the collar to stand between her knees. "Want to see what else I've learned?"

"I serve customers in this room, you know." Revyn's hands settled on the counter beside her hips. It was a token protest and they both knew it.

She laughed, fingers scratching lightly beneath his collar. "Then let's give it some more pleasant memories."

Revyn scoffed. "What could be more pleasant than the discerning people of Windhelm?"

"Shut up," she mumbled. Revyn went to her with sparkling eyes and a wicked grin. Naldyne kissed him eagerly. With all the energy of a woman who had been away from home far too long. Her hands pushed aside his shirt to feel his chest, and he couldn't help the groan when she slipped her hands beneath the waist of his trousers. Just as eager, he touched everywhere he could reach, delighted to find what made her gasp and sigh, her little noises in his ear being his undoing.