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ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

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"Deserving Each Other" Sven/Faendal 2/4

[(Anonymous)]

When he got inside, he was greeted with an argument. The gist appeared to be that the store had been robbed, and Camilla was determined to retrieve the stolen goods, much to her brother’s horror. Dyce was amused. Camilla was a handsome Imperial woman, and mid-argument her dark eyes flashed, and her cheeks were flushed.

Determined and fiery. Yeah, he could see the appeal. He folded his arms and leant against the door, and eventually Lucan noticed he was there and apologised for the argument.

Dyce grinned, “Quite all right. Are you still open? I’m looking to buy some arrows.” While Lucan served him, Camilla eyed him up and down, from his dusty leather boots to the blade at his hip to his ragged hair.

“Are you an adventurer?” she asked.

“I might be.”

“Ah, maybe you can retrieve something for us,” Lucian said. “So you don’t have to go,” he added in a harder tone to his sister.

“Is that your plan is it? Well I think your helper needs a guide.”

“Well I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow,” Dyce said. “I’ll be back then.”

When he left the shop, he was certain of one thing; neither Faendal or Sven were a match for Camilla. He knew he’d be welcome at the blacksmith and he went back there to sleep. After he’d written some letters.

~~~
Dyce sat on a fallen log in the forests near Riverwood, and watched the butterflies dance in the morning sunlight. It looked to be a beautiful day, for now at least. Faendal appeared out of the shadows, as silent as a cloud in the sky.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, when he spotted Dyce.

Some crunching of leaves and snapping of branches preceded the arrival of Sven.

“What’s he doing here?” Sven demanded. “Where’s Camilla? What’s going on?”

They glared at each other.

“Well you see,” Dyce said. “You aren’t the only ones who can forge letters. Now hear me out.” He held up his hands, to forestall any angry tirades. “Writing fake letters is beneath you both. You’re both here now, you can sort it out like men. And don’t worry, I’ll referee - no one’s going to get hurt.”

Much.

“Of all the sneaky underhanded-”

“You started it!” They turned on each other and the arguing began in earnest. Dyce rocked back and stared at the sky, and let it wash over him.

“What she’d ever see in you I can’t imagine-”

“You said last night he had eyes like blue mountain flowers,” Dyce pointed out helpfully.

“He did?” Sven looked a bit nonplussed.

“To be fair,” Dyce added. “This was after you said he was tanned and lean.”

“Well, yes,” he spluttered. “There has to be some competition otherwise I wouldn’t bother worrying about it.”

“Oh please,” Faendal snapped. “You sing like you could get any girl in the world.”

Dyce grinned as he watched them glare at each other, not exactly nose to nose, thanks to the height difference, but they made a nice picture anyway.

“Well, you’ve got your hunting and so on. Bringing home trophies all the time in all weathers.”

Faendal seized Sven’s hand, “Look at this skin. There’s not a mark on it.”

They continued to eyeball each other, breathing heavily.

“Maybe,” Dyce said.

They both turned to him and chorused, “What?”

“Maybe you’re equally appealing. It might come down to who can please her better.”

“And how are we supposed to tell that?” Sven asked.

Dyce grinned, “I told you I’d referee.”

Sven spluttered, “What are you suggesting? I’m not going to- to-”

“Coward,” Faendal said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully as he looked at Dyce. “Fortune, and Camilla, favours the bold.” So saying he stepped up to Dyce, cupped his hands around the Breton’s face and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

Dyce merely grinned and went with it, parting his lips and letting the Bosmer have his way with his mouth. Clearly the hunter had worked up an appetite while he was out in the wilds, his teeth scraping at Dyce’s lips and his tongue sliding over Dyce’s.

“All right, that’s enough,” Sven said, when it became clear Faendal wasn’t in a hurry to come up for air. “I said, stop kissing him!” He physically forced them apart and glared at Faendal who merely looked smug and licked his lips.