Red Right Hand: All the Morning Glows Anew

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    Maul’s ridiculous glower faded from Davius’s vision, but its effect on Davius’s temper didn’t fade so easily. Between the new jarl’s watchdog and the shakedown at the gates, Davius’s first day back in Riften hadn’t started on a good foot. He stopped before the bridge to the marketplace and took a deep breath.

     

    Those canals…as long as he lived, Davius wouldn’t forget the smells – stagnant water and warm tar and the ever-present hint of fish.

     

    “What did Jarl Black-Briar say about the thief you caught last night? Caught in our own home, no less?”

     

    Hairs on the back of Davius’s neck rose at the mention of thieves, and he looked out of the corner of his eye at the pair talking in the middle of the bridge. Shortish man with the unmistakable look of a former warrior slightly gone to seed. But the woman who stood at his side wasn’t unmistakably… anything. At first glance, all he saw was dented but shiny armor, a massive greatsword at her hip. And a whitening scar like the swipe of a beast’s claw below her left eye.

     

    But he stared – and he knew he stared, but he couldn’t help it – a moment or two longer, and noticed nearly glowing blue-green eyes and hair the color of wheat in the morning sun. She smirked, and it was enough of a smile to lighten her face and wrinkle her tip-tilted, freckled nose.

     

    Magnificent.

     

    Davius stepped onto the bridge, and she looked up, meeting his eyes. “Hello,” she said, her cheeks plumping in a genuine smile, “haven’t seen you in town. Are you new to Riften?”

     

    “I, ah…well,” he began, letting his gaze slide between the woman and the irritated-looking man at her side, “any town’ll be new to me. Just come back from the Legion.” He made a show of looking her up and down. “You look like you could hold your own in a battle. Did you fight?”

     

    “I fight every day,” she said, and touched the weapons belt across her chest. Her face fell, and the sky seemed to darken along with her smile. “But my front is Riften. I don’t pretend to know if the Empire’s side was the right one, but their victory hasn’t been good for the town. Maven Black-Briar is a poor and corrupt excuse for a jarl, and the Thieves Guild…”

     

    Davius leaned in closer. “What about the Thieves Guild?”

     

    “I shouldn’t even call them a guild. More a rabble, really. Even the Dark Brotherhood follows some sort of code, or so I hear. But these thieves terrorize Riften every night. I found one in my kitchen yesterday, as brazen as you please, and they fight among each other, and we all get caught in the crossfire-“

     

    She broke off with a little shake of her head. “Sorry, I could go on far too long. My name is Mjoll, and this,” she said, motioning toward the man glaring at Davius from behind her shoulder, “is Aerin.”

     

    “Davius Sebastian,” he said, offering his hand to both of them in turn and holding Mjoll’s just a second too long, “pleased to meet you.” He cleared his throat and motioned to Maul, still staring across the bridge with flinty black eyes. “So, is he always so happy to meet new people?”

     

    Mjoll and Aerin shared a knowing frown. “Maul is only happy when he has someone to threaten. Between the Black-Briars and the Thieves Guild-”

     

    Mjoll smacked the railing in frustration. “Sorry, I said I wasn’t going to talk about-“

     

    “No, it’s fine,” Davius said, and hefted his pack a little higher on his shoulder. “Actually, I agree completely. It sounds horrible. Sure not what I was expecting when I came through the gates.”

     

    As though on cue, a flash of gold and auburn caught Davius’s attention and he looked out at the marketplace and then back to Mjoll with a tense smile. “Listen, I have to go, but I hope to see you around town, soon.”

     

    Mjoll smiled again, her gaze flicking over his worn leather armor and shining ebony sword, and finally resting on his face. “Yes, soon.”

     

    Davius walked off, his eyes hardening. Brynjolf stood near the corner of the Bee and Barb, beckoning with a lifted chin. After the gate-guard’s shakedown failed to work, he expected news of his arrival to spread quickly. Maybe not this quickly, but having an escort down to the cistern might be best.  

     

    Time to get to work.

     

    Mjoll‘s days in Riften ran on schedule – and a tight schedule at that. In the morning, promptly at eight, she left the house she shared with Aerin (he had the downstairs, she had the upstairs. They shared the kitchen) and walked to the marketplace. A breakfast of fresh, hot bread and coffee started her day. The remainder of the morning found her outside the gates, hunting for game and ridding the nearby woods of vermin.

     

    A few days after meeting Davius on the boardwalk, Mjoll wondered if he’d left for good – she’d not seen him since he’d said goodbye and walked toward Marise’s stall. Riften did have its way of getting under people’s skin, but she’d imagined Davius a little different. Tougher. A former soldier, she’d hoped he’d be on her side. On Riften’s side. A help, even.

     

    But maybe he’d changed his mind about staying. A surprising moue of disappointment curved into a scowl at the sight of the gate guards. They knew who she was and saw her cartfull of pelts and meat and ingredients, including several crates of skeever tails, steaming in the noonday sun. But still they hesitated to open the gates. She fumed. Then again, the whole town cowered under the thumb of the Thieves Guild and the Black-Briars. What did she expect?

     

    By the time she lugged her cart to the marketplace and delivered the meat to Marise and Keerava, she’d bothered herself into an increasingly typical state of fury, imagining Maven Black-Briar face-down in a pit of sharp stakes, her smug, imperious grin bloody and ruined.

     

    Stop it, Mjoll. You’re better than that.

     

    She did her best to quell that daydream on her walk to the smithy, but failed miserably until she saw who stood by the forge. There he was – Davius, looking like he’d been in a house fire. Or in a fight with a dragon, although she’d not seen dragons in The Rift for months. A metal coffer at his feet glowed, and he moved to pick it up, but Balimund knocked his hands out of the way and grabbed it, upending it over his forge with a roar.

     

    Riften’s master smith looked for all the world like a Forsworn savage dancing around his forge, newly stoked flames soaring past market ceilings and arches. When the flames settled back down into sparkling embers, Mjoll made her way through the throng of cheering townspeople and parked her cart, her eyes shifting between Davius and Balimund.

     

    “I, ah…I know it’s not fire salts, but hopefully you’ll be able to put these pelts to good use. Especially now your forge has new life,” Mjoll said, and turned to Davius with a quick nod of greeting. How had he found the fire salts Balimund needed? They were nearly impossible to come by, she knew from fruitless months of experience.

     

    “My lucky day all ‘round!” Balimund laughed and clapped Davius on the shoulder. “Ah, this lad. Warmed my heart as well as my forge, make no mistake. I thought for a while I’d have to shut down. Do you know I offered to pay him for finding the salts? I should, looks like he wrestled those atronachs and ripped out their hearts with his bare hands.”

     

    Mjoll had to agree. Soot covered Davius’s face, and his leather armor was singed, as was part of his hair. “We all owe you a debt then. The loss of Balimund would have lessened our city, indeed.”

     

    Lessened our city indeed? Mjoll cringed at the sound of her own voice. She didn’t talk like that. No one did.

     

    Davius grinned and nodded, his eyes meeting Mjoll’s. Her stomach flip-flopped, and she tried not to stare. She’d never seen eyes that color before – blue, yes, but clear and icy as a mountain stream. “My pleasure,” he said, and tapped the hilt of the ebony sword at his hip. “And as for pay, I’ll take a sharpened sword over gold anytime. Do a much better job at keeping me alive.”

     

    Mjoll watched Davius stroll across the bridge and wondered, not for the first time, where he was going. Where did he live? What did he do with his time, apart from wrestling fire atronachs? Who were his friends, his family?

     

    Every day after that, she made a point of looking for Davius during her patrols – in the marketplace, the Bee and Barb, the Pawned Prawn, the Fishery – anywhere newcomers might find sustenance or goods or employment – but for days, he was nowhere to be found. What did he do all day, where did he go?

     

    Who were his people?

     

    One of those questions was answered several weeks later. Mjoll patrolled the small graveyard behind the Temple of Mara – a common place for unsavory deals to go down. And there he was, standing in an archway under a large crypt. Another man stepped into the torchlight beside him, and her heart sank – Brynjolf, a known thief and swindler of a particular nature. She knew he’d made off with the valuables of several Riften women, women who’d rather not say where their jewels and baubles had gone. Would rather their husbands not know who warmed their beds while they were away.

     

    Brynjolf was an attractive man; Mjoll had to give the scamp his due, and she had a hard time feeling sorry for women who’d dupe the men they’d sworn to love and care for. But he was still a thief, and if Davius spent his time with such a man…

     

    Davius tensed suddenly and looked her way. Torchlight turned his blue eyes a fiery gold; he’d caught her watching. Well, that was her job, wasn’t it? She’d told him upfront she took care of Riften, protected her town from people…well, people like him, apparently. She gave a clipped nod and walked back toward the marketplace, anger bubbling up around the lump in her throat.

     

    So the most interesting man in Riften in…oh, ages, turned out to be a thief. Why should she care? She told herself it was because of her plans for the city. Aerin was a good friend and could hold his own in a fight, but his intellect and fortitude were no match for Maven Black-Briar. But Davius…

     

    Davius. She sighed with a little shake of her head. Unfortunately, pretty eyes and an adorably boyish grin couldn’t change a thief into a good man, she thought, her boots thumping a little louder than usual on the walkway leading back home.

     

    Art Credits: Mjoll by MonoriRogue, DeviantArt; Brynjolf by Polyne55, DeviantArt. I know this one really is on the periphery of relevance here, but it was so cute, and fit so well with the Brynjolf I'd described, I just couldn't help but include it. 

     

Comments

8 Comments   |   A-Pocky-Hah! and 4 others like this.
  • Karver the Lorc
    Karver the Lorc   ·  August 8, 2018
    Heh, playing a good guy by day and a thief by night. Ah, our glorious Riften can work wonders with people. I loved that bit about Brynjolf stealing jewels from the women he shags and they won´t tell a thing about that for obvious reasons. That´s perfect. ...  more
    • ilanisilver
      ilanisilver
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Heh, playing a good guy by day and a thief by night. Ah, our glorious Riften can work wonders with people. I loved that bit about Brynjolf stealing jewels from the women he shags and they won´t tell a thing about that for obvious reasons. That´s perfect. ...  more
        ·  August 8, 2018
      Some of this came about because of a playthrough. Because you do that, you know? You join the guild and do all the things, and yet everyone loves you and Mjoll wants to marry you and you do all these favors for everyone. I wanted to write something where ...  more
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  August 5, 2018
    Mjoll is one of my favorite followers. I enjoy her general baddassery, that she's almost awkward with her talkativeness,  and smile at her naivete with regard to the Thieves Guild. Curious to see what you'll do with her, but I already note some chang...  more
    • ilanisilver
      ilanisilver
      The Long-Chapper
      The Long-Chapper
      The Long-Chapper
      Mjoll is one of my favorite followers. I enjoy her general baddassery, that she's almost awkward with her talkativeness,  and smile at her naivete with regard to the Thieves Guild. Curious to see what you'll do with her, but I already note some chang...  more
        ·  August 5, 2018
      I always thought it was super weird that Mjoll, champion of goodness and all that’s right, would marry the DB if the DB is Thieves Guildmaster. So, yeah, expect some changes, making that choice a little more realistic. At least for me. I’m going over the ...  more
      • The Long-Chapper
        The Long-Chapper
        ilanisilver
        ilanisilver
        ilanisilver
        I always thought it was super weird that Mjoll, champion of goodness and all that’s right, would marry the DB if the DB is Thieves Guildmaster. So, yeah, expect some changes, making that choice a little more realistic. At least for me. I’m going over the ...  more
          ·  August 5, 2018
        YAY! Keeeeeeel her! Or just humiliate her, that works too. And Yeah, I got engaged fast too. 
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  August 5, 2018
    What a nice introduction, a perfect mix of not too much info and not too little info which is nice to keep readers hooked on. I think my only complaint is that the (implied) romance felt a bit early, but hey that's just me since I'm more of a sucker for s...  more
    • ilanisilver
      ilanisilver
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      What a nice introduction, a perfect mix of not too much info and not too little info which is nice to keep readers hooked on. I think my only complaint is that the (implied) romance felt a bit early, but hey that's just me since I'm more of a sucker for s...  more
        ·  August 5, 2018
      Thanks!! Yes, I need to write an actual romance novel so I can do the slow burn. I agree, it’s fun, but hard to do in 5 chapters. Have you ever read Radiance by Grace Draven? The book itself isn’t super deep, but the romance is great. It’s a nice slow burn. 
      • A-Pocky-Hah!
        A-Pocky-Hah!
        ilanisilver
        ilanisilver
        ilanisilver
        Thanks!! Yes, I need to write an actual romance novel so I can do the slow burn. I agree, it’s fun, but hard to do in 5 chapters. Have you ever read Radiance by Grace Draven? The book itself isn’t super deep, but the romance is great. It’s a nice slow burn. 
          ·  August 5, 2018
        Not really. Most of my dose of slow-burn romance comes from a select few fanfics (which I now have no access to!) and Japanese animated shows. As for fluff... I have a whole bookmark containing Imgur albums that are enough to give me diabetes for years to come.