Summary: Dyce and Enthir do not get on at all. It might be because Dyce keeps breaking Enthir’s windows or because Enthir has a chronic overcharging problem, but it’s probably the simmering sexual tension. ~~~ The sound of breaking glass roused Enthir from his slumber, and he lifted his head from the pillow, instantly alert. You didn’t get to become an elf who knows how to get things by being a heavy sleeper. He pushed back the covers and slunk out of bed, the cold making his bare chest and arms prickle.
His window was definitely broken; cold air was blowing in, and there was glass glittering on the floor in the starlight. A large metal hook had sailed through the window, and caught on the ledge. Enthir sighed. Wonderful. He went and threw a robe over his shoulders, not bothering to do it up; if he wanted to visit in the early hours of the morning, then he could deal with him in his nightclothes.
It would be a good ten minutes before his visitor arrived, and for all ten of them Enthir was very tempted to saw through the rope attached to the grappling hook. Very tempted. But it probably wasn’t a good idea; Brynjolf would find out eventually for one. So he sat, and waited, and worked out what his story would be when he asked for a new window. Again.
Eventually he heard the shuffling of feet on stone, and the rope creaking and the sounds of heavy breathing.
“Oof.” Gloved hands joined the hook, and then the rest of the thief followed, tumbling rather ungracefully into the room and lying on Enthir’s floor, panting. “You!” Dyce said, pointing up at Enthir accusingly.
“This is my bedroom, who else would it be?”
Dyce held up his hand, “Gimme a minute to catch my breath.”
Enthir took the opportunity to unburden himself of his feelings, “Why by all of Oblivion do you insist on coming in the window? Yeah, yeah you’re not a mage, but you’re the Dragonborn. They’ll let you in if you’d just ask.”
“It’s the principle of the thing.” Enthir recognised that mulish frown, even upside down.
“Then could you at least wait until I leave the College? If you bothered to send word that you were coming, I could arrange to have cash on hand-”
“Yes about that.” Dyce rolled over and lithely got to his feet. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Enthir. About those soul gems.”
Enthir couldn’t stop himself smirking, “I trust they were satisfactory.”
“They were in no way satisfactory!” Dyce was in his face now, although he didn’t lay a hand on him. “Grand soul gems, with common souls inside, sold at the price - above the price even - of grand soul gems with grand souls inside. Sound familiar?”
Enthir had to hope everyone else was a heavy sleeper because Dyce was not keeping his voice down, and he suspected asking him to would have the opposite effect. Still, he didn’t appreciate being crowded like this and he got to his feet.
“You’re no mage, as you’ve said so many times, and here you are making baseless accusations.”
“I know how to recharge my blades, Enthir,” Dyce growled. “You’re just lucky I’m not going to test them out on you.”
“Oh, grow up,” Enthir said. “Your theatrics might impress the whelps in Riften’s sewers, but I’ve been at this business a lot longer than you, boy. You didn’t come here to stain your blades, so don’t even try it.”
They glared at each other, eyeball to eyeball. Enthir could feel Dyce’s breath on his cheek, and the cold that still clung to this clothes and hair. He smelled like pine; hadn’t even stopped to shake the snow off in the inn before scaling the College walls. Enthir considered himself far too wise to be out adventuring, but damn if something about Dyce didn’t stir his blood for the open road anyway. It was unnerving.
M!DB/Enthir "You Bastard" 1/3
Summary: Dyce and Enthir do not get on at all. It might be because Dyce keeps breaking Enthir’s windows or because Enthir has a chronic overcharging problem, but it’s probably the simmering sexual tension.
~~~
The sound of breaking glass roused Enthir from his slumber, and he lifted his head from the pillow, instantly alert. You didn’t get to become an elf who knows how to get things by being a heavy sleeper. He pushed back the covers and slunk out of bed, the cold making his bare chest and arms prickle.
His window was definitely broken; cold air was blowing in, and there was glass glittering on the floor in the starlight. A large metal hook had sailed through the window, and caught on the ledge. Enthir sighed. Wonderful. He went and threw a robe over his shoulders, not bothering to do it up; if he wanted to visit in the early hours of the morning, then he could deal with him in his nightclothes.
It would be a good ten minutes before his visitor arrived, and for all ten of them Enthir was very tempted to saw through the rope attached to the grappling hook. Very tempted. But it probably wasn’t a good idea; Brynjolf would find out eventually for one. So he sat, and waited, and worked out what his story would be when he asked for a new window. Again.
Eventually he heard the shuffling of feet on stone, and the rope creaking and the sounds of heavy breathing.
“Oof.” Gloved hands joined the hook, and then the rest of the thief followed, tumbling rather ungracefully into the room and lying on Enthir’s floor, panting. “You!” Dyce said, pointing up at Enthir accusingly.
“This is my bedroom, who else would it be?”
Dyce held up his hand, “Gimme a minute to catch my breath.”
Enthir took the opportunity to unburden himself of his feelings, “Why by all of Oblivion do you insist on coming in the window? Yeah, yeah you’re not a mage, but you’re the Dragonborn. They’ll let you in if you’d just ask.”
“It’s the principle of the thing.” Enthir recognised that mulish frown, even upside down.
“Then could you at least wait until I leave the College? If you bothered to send word that you were coming, I could arrange to have cash on hand-”
“Yes about that.” Dyce rolled over and lithely got to his feet. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Enthir. About those soul gems.”
Enthir couldn’t stop himself smirking, “I trust they were satisfactory.”
“They were in no way satisfactory!” Dyce was in his face now, although he didn’t lay a hand on him. “Grand soul gems, with common souls inside, sold at the price - above the price even - of grand soul gems with grand souls inside. Sound familiar?”
Enthir had to hope everyone else was a heavy sleeper because Dyce was not keeping his voice down, and he suspected asking him to would have the opposite effect. Still, he didn’t appreciate being crowded like this and he got to his feet.
“You’re no mage, as you’ve said so many times, and here you are making baseless accusations.”
“I know how to recharge my blades, Enthir,” Dyce growled. “You’re just lucky I’m not going to test them out on you.”
“Oh, grow up,” Enthir said. “Your theatrics might impress the whelps in Riften’s sewers, but I’ve been at this business a lot longer than you, boy. You didn’t come here to stain your blades, so don’t even try it.”
They glared at each other, eyeball to eyeball. Enthir could feel Dyce’s breath on his cheek, and the cold that still clung to this clothes and hair. He smelled like pine; hadn’t even stopped to shake the snow off in the inn before scaling the College walls. Enthir considered himself far too wise to be out adventuring, but damn if something about Dyce didn’t stir his blood for the open road anyway. It was unnerving.