Teldryn's disposition was greatly improved as he strolled into the Netch, having just acquired a packet of tantalizing tobacco from the kahjiit traders. He would prefer to smoke out in the open air but with the New Life festivities beginning in the evening, the bustle of the crowded market was going to diminish his enjoyment. The interior of the inn was still busy, but as it was not yet time for the midday meal it was bearable.
He scanned the room as he headed for the hallway and his mood improved further when he saw to his left a certain outworlder sitting alone at the table nearest the kitchen. A vision of her crouching scared and helpless in a dark tomb flashed before his eyes and his irritation at Modyn flared before he tamped it down. She was obviously fine and since he had not really spoken with her since his arrival two nights before, he decided now was the time to remedy that. As he approached, Vanya cut a segment from a loaf of bread on the table then spread red jelly over it -likely comberry. She was in the process of sucking off a morsel that had strayed to her thumb when she spotted him. She quickly lowered her hands and with a tinge of pink spreading in her cheeks she greeted him, "Hi."
He fought the urge to stare at her comberry stained lips and took a steadying breath, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. "May I sit?"
"Yeah, do you want some of this?" She nudged the bread toward him.
"I wouldn't mind." He eyed the jelly as she passed the bread knife. "No scrib?"
She tilted her head at him with a gleam in her eyes, "I think that's an acquired taste." She pushed up from her seat. "But I'll get some for you, be right back."
He would have told her he was jesting and liked comberry just fine but she was already walking away, so he said nothing. What is she doing carrying a dagger? He had not previously noticed it under the cover of the apron she usually wore.
She returned moments later with a small plate sporting a generous mound of scrib jelly, setting it in front of him. As she took her seat again he dipped the knife in the jelly, swiping it onto his bread with a sly grin. "So much for no special treatment."
The look she gave him nearly caused him to cough out the bread he'd just bitten off and he had to cover his mouth to laugh. She glared while pressing her lips together to suppress the smile that was pulling at them.
She crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. "All it takes to make you feel special is a little scrib jelly, huh?"
He finally managed to swallow. "Sometimes."
The reprimanding look and amused tilt of her mouth as she stared at him began to stir an appetite that he knew the bread in his hand would not satisfy. He shoved the remainder of the bread in his mouth and chewed as he shifted in the seat so he could lean against the wall to look out over the room, regretting that his netch armor did not allow him to carry his pipe. He really needed to smoke.
"Have you seen the khajiit yet?" he asked, for a change of subject and out of genuine curiosity.
"Yes," she said, toying with the edge of her plate. "I saw them setting up their tent this morning when we were bringing in water. I would love to see all the things they have in there but I don't think I'll have time with the festival and all that. Niyya is working lunch and then it's all hands on deck for the next two days."
"What about right now?"
"I can't. Everyone is busy." He cocked his head at her, not sure what she meant. "I mean...I probably can't afford anything they sell anyway," she stammered as she picked up her bread and hastily took a bite. He furrowed his brow, recognizing a lie since he knew for a fact that she had at least one hundred septims to spare. What was making her so uneasy? He thought back to the first statement as he watched her fidget in her chair.
He turned toward her, leaning on the table with his elbows. "Do you mean to tell me that you are unable to walk across the market without someone to accompany you?"
His crimson gaze was so intense that she was having trouble coming up with an excuse. Every avenue her mind sought brought her back to the truth as he stared, his expression darkening.
She swallowed, picking her words carefully. "I choose to have company because...there is someone I want to avoid."
He lowered his voice, "Have you been threatened?"
"In- in a way," she replied, throwing a quick glance around the room.
"Tell me."
She bristled slightly. "I really can't talk about it."
"By whose command?" he asked, an edge creeping into his voice.
"No one's," she said defensively, leaning back in her chair with a huff. "But...it's complicated." Where would she even start if she could?
She saw his jaw twitch as he clenched his teeth. His sudden anger made her feel anxious so she started talking in an attempt to calm him. "But I'm safe in the Netch, and I always stay here close to the kitchen so I can see the stairs..."
Teldryn stood abruptly. "Come with me."
She made to get up but then hesitated. "Where?"
He looked down at her, his features drawn tight. "To my room so you can tell me why you keep looking over your shoulder and carry a dagger on your belt." He stalked toward the hallway not even looking back to see if she was following.
Part of her wanted to follow after him to scold him for his presumption that he could simply command her to come to his room and spill her secrets, as if he had any right. Though the farther he walked from her the more her desire grew to do as he said. She didn't know him, but he knew things about her nobody else did. He was safe. Even when she'd been in his room the other night and made a complete fool of herself, the only feeling she'd had was her own mortification. That wasn't the only feeling.
She exhaled deeply."Nope, we're not going there, brain." At least he had armor on this time, even if it was far more fitted than his usual chitin. Before he disappeared into the hallway, she got up and hurried after him. It occurred to her as she crossed the room that people would be seeing her going to his room for the second time in three days and she inwardly cringed. As if the rumor mill needed more fodder.
Upon entering his room he immediately started preparing his pipe with quick, deliberate movements. Vanya watched him as she closed the door behind her and waited while he took a deep pull, then exhaled a long plume of smoke. He grinned stiffly as he said, "Those khajiit always have the best tobacco." He looked at her and pointed with the tip of the pipe. "You have to be careful though. I got some once that was laced with moonsugar. I twitched for a week." With his free hand, he grabbed the chair and dragged it over near the bed.
Vanya was still standing by the door, a knot forming in her stomach. She had become pretty good these last few months at scabbing over her bad experiences and the idea of picking at one was making her very uncomfortable. Why had she come in here?
She stared, unfocused, at a spot on the floor. What good was this really going to do?
He walked into her line of view and she looked up at him. "Vanya, tell me what troubles you."
She opened her mouth and she could hold it back no longer.
"...and then these three guys barged in and started yelling at Mogrul about all those deaths at the barrow..."
She sat on the edge of his bed as she spoke and although the bit of information about Mogrul was not insignificant- so that was who the benefactor in Ralis' journal had been referring to- he found himself listening less as his thoughts centered on nothing more than driving his dagger into Gjollmir's gut in a way he knew would bring a most agonizing death.
For over a month the man had tormented her. Any relief gained knowing it was not threats from the Morag Tong against her quickly dissipated the more she told him of the nord. She had been vague on details at first but he had pressed for more until she started from the beginning. He wanted to know every look, every word, every action that had passed between them. The man had touched her, caused her pain. His fury was indescribable. Unfortunately, Modyn- friend that he still was- would not likely allow him to get away with murder so he would have to think of a more creative punishment. Perhaps it would gratify him enough to cripple the man's hands...
It disturbed him a little that he was so affected. He'd seen men do far worse than grab a woman's face and never felt the need to intervene, though the women of Nirn could usually give as good as they got and an aggressive man oftentimes limped away in regret. The tears sliding down her ruddy cheeks invoked a sort of madness in him. She was not of this world and her introduction to it had been less than ideal, to say the least. The altercation between Slitter and the miners was something he would not give a second thought, yet she described it as if it were the most awful thing she'd ever seen. He didn't know what her life on Earth had been like but it was very clear to him that it was vastly different than here.
"...so that's it," she sniffed. "I'm sorry I'm crying so much."
"There's no need to apologize."
"I do feel better, so thanks." She laughed a little. "You're kinda bossy, you know."
"Only when I'm right," he said with a mirthless grin.
She scoffed lightly. "Typical." She sat up straighter and fanned her face with her hands, giving a shuddering sigh. "God, I must look a mess."
Teldryn stared at her for a moment, at a loss for words as her simplest actions ignited his blood. Of course, what man would not desire a pretty girl sitting on his bed with wet, vulnerable eyes. And when those eyes met his, there was something else. A yearning he could not identify...
"Let me see that dagger of yours," he said abruptly.
"Oh," she looked down at the dagger on her hip and pulled it from its sheath, handling it timidly as she passed it over as if she thought it would strike out and bite her. He felt the weight of it then checked the balance, glad for a distraction from whatever it was that was going through his mind moments before.
"You really shouldn't carry a weapon you don't know how to use," he said as he twirled it in his hand. "It would more than likely be used against you." He flipped the blade and held the handle out to her.
"I'm trying to learn," she replied as she took the dagger and sheathed it with the utmost care. "from a book." He raised an eyebrow and could tell from the look on her face that she knew that was a ridiculous notion. The only way to learn to fight was from experience. He tilted his head at her in curiosity.
"It is so foreign to you. What do people on Earth do to defend themselves?"
Vanya stared at him, shocked at the sudden mention of her home. It was an innocent enough question but to answer it would be a foot in the door to memories she was not willing to explore. She was raw enough already from talking about experiences on Nirn. This has gone too far.
She stood up suddenly with a forced smile. "You know what, I think I could use a little retail therapy after all."
He squinted at her from his chair, clearly confused. "Retail therapy?" She grinned in amusement as he sounded out the strange phrase. It was utterly adorable.
"Yeah, especially now that I have a hundred septims burning a hole in my pocket courtesy of a certain stubborn mer." She inclined her head toward him with her hands on her hips, smirking as his face twisted further in bewilderment.
"Burning a..." He looked to her pants and back up to her face. "Speak Cyrodiilic."
She tilted her head back, laughing. "I mean to say that I'm going to see the khajiit caravan," she clarified through giggles. She twirled toward the door and pulled it open, looking back at him while waiting for a response.
He raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "You're going alone?"
She smiled fully and looked him up and down. "Nooo," she drawled as she walked out the door leaving it hanging open.
