Revenge

Just a little bit of Skyrim fan fiction. it's kind of bloody! you've been warned ._. I didn't know how to organize this really, but there will be a part II.

"My name is Krin'khaj. In Khajit, it means 'laughing desert'; I was so named because Dro'Rabbi, my step-parents, found me wandering the dunes of Elseweyr as a child, covered in blood and wearing a grin as big as the moon. That is what they told me."

An inquisitive glance. A raised eyebrow. A swift silence.

"Please, go on. I'm intrigued." a feminine voice beckoned amusedly.

"Well...to keep a long story short, as you say, I was for twenty manes (years, I think?) a native in the old land, living as any of us would. In Anequina, the north, we roamed from this oasis to that one, always flanked by the crimson sands of the Great Khaj. My step-father was a bodyguard for the tribal chief; my mother sold home made goods. She especially was very kind to me. We passed the time weaving rugs, collecting moon sugar, and guarding our wells diligently."

Krin'khaj spoke animatedly, and the woman feigned a smile and kept listening to the stranger, swaddled in exotic foreign cloth.

"Comfort was not for us...what we did have was freedom, the freedom from material things that only a life of hardship can breed in you. Noo, we didn't have much, but there was one possession that was a gift to my father, which was a gift from the chief, which my mother wore with great reverence: a moon-shard necklace.  One day, three manes ago, on the eve of the lunar festival, I awoke to find my surrogate mother dead. Her mate had disappeared - his foot tracks lead off into the horizon, towards the shimmering sun - and I was alone again." the voice concluded matter-of-factly.

"Ha, twice a b*****d eh? Sorry to hear that. But you're gonna have to tell me again:  why is all this back-story important?" the middle-aged woman asked with just the slightest hint of impatience, intermingled with mirthful curiosity.

The Khajit smiled broadly, bearing his razor-sharp teeth within his muzzle, covered in snow-like fur. "You'll understand soon, I promise you..."

If the words hadn't been spoken so pleasantly, and the Khajit's demeanor hadn't been so disarming, the woman might have perceived them as a threat thinly veiled behind a wolf's smile. Khajits, whose physical disposition can best be described as a tiger with humanoid features, tend to inspire one of two reactions from those humans they encounter: distrust or affection.

This woman happened to be a cat-person. So she didn't  flinch as the taller Khajit leaned in closer, and she let him continue his impromptu reminiscence.

"I left for the south that day, the Pellitine, and I settled in Senchal. That is where I got my first taste of city work. It was nothing too difficult, just a few odd jobs for skooma dealers and pirates, but there was coin to be had, and once you feel that weight in your pocket and know you won't go hungry, m'drazza you don't ever want to be poor again." the speaker paused, taking a brief sip of wine from his flagon. "Eventually I ended up on a boat to oversee a shipment to Windhelm. And that is how I came to be here."

The woman's face deflated as Krin'Khaj carried on, and she began to wonder just where he was headed with all of this.

She looked around for the first time since he had engaged her, and noticed that the tavern was emptying out now, the noon-day crowd headed back to work; only a pair of intoxicated revelers remained at a corner table, belching impotently in the shadows. The scene was saved from being ominous by the daylight streaming in through the windows, the sound of market crowds just outside of the entry way, and the boring story being related to her. But her patience was wearing thin.

"Okay...that's great, Mr. Krin'khaj. Now would you like a drink or something?" she said in a hoarse voice.

"Just a minute," he responded flatly, "I'm almost done."

The woman rolled her eyes and gave a weary smile. This comes with the territory I guess. She outstretched her palms on the wooden counter she stood behind. "Well then?"

"Well then...I immediately liked it here, and decided to stay. Although there were many openings for my type of skills, there were few willing to employ my kind. I did not wish to spend my days like the other Khajit you see, who peddle their carpets and moon sugar in the caravans, so I joined up with the Thieves Guild, in Riften."

"...the Thieves Guild..?"

"The Thieves Guild." Krin repeated in his musical voice. "You might have heard of them. Anyway, I fit in quite well there, and I made friends eventually. One of them knew a guy who knew a guy, who liked to brag a lot - my friend would share this guy's stories with me. As it turns out, this guy used to be a pirate too! Only now he is respectable; a pillar of society!"

The Khajit's voice was as buoyant and friendly as ever, but the woman's eyes widened apprehensively and focused with a new intensity.

"Do you know how he got to be respectable, ma'am?"

Silence.

The Khajit leaned in closer to her, folding his arms onto the counter top and lowering his voice to a minatory whisper. "He sold a moon shard necklace, brought back from Elseweyr."

The woman's face flushed pale; suddenly, the sunlight seemed so much dimmer, and the noise from the crowds seemed so far away.

A hand darted forth like lightening, pushing something sharp between her breasts too quickly for her to see.

She staggered backwards, bumping into the liquor-lined shelves behind her with a crash, paused dramatically, and then finally fell to the ground in a heap. Her rough hands clutched vainly at the ebony dagger embedded in her; blood flowed profusely from the wound.

"And that is my story."

Krin'khaj walked over to the woman's dying body and bent down beside her. Gingerly, he wrapped his fingers around his blade and pulled it from her, using it to pin the letter into the floorboard besides her.

Getting up to leave, he glanced at the woman pitifully as she bled out.

"It's too bad...you should have chosen your husband more carefully. May the Nine have mercy on you."

With that, he turned and walked out the door, whistling a little tune from his native land.

Author's Note

all feedback is great, but I esp. want to know what ppl think about the action and whether or not it kept you engaged til the end. Thanks!

Reviews

[selkietales]

You say, "Dro'Rabbi, my step-parents," but do you mean his step-father? Otherwise it looks like an unexplained singular term for both step-parents.
"bearing his razor-sharp teeth within his muzzle, covered in snow-like fur." would sound better if the first "his" was replaced by "the" and if you put the words "which is" before the word covered. The way it is now seems as the the teeth are furry, at least to me.
"The woman's face flushed pale," how does one flush pale? Isn't flushing when your face flushes full of blood, so therefore the person is blushing and pink?
Anywho, good story, I enjoyed it. I like how you kept his mission secret until the end, so I was kept guessing as to why this guy would just randomly tell her his story.

[MoriartyMesa]

I had a different view than most, it sent me to a different period of time. Not sure which but another shot of Kentucky and another read will get me there. But what i got more was just the long sigh of the lady in waiting.

[wyrd]

ahh this takes me back to my joyful days of D&D geekhood. Loved it. The action moved right along and makes you want to see the next adventure.

[Worriedkatt]

This is great! Dont know if it is cause Khajit is my race of choice any day or if its the way you seemed to somehow nail the way they often talk, but I found myself reading this with the typical Khajit dialect and smiling. Might we be worth adding I have a real short attention span yet you kept med reading all the way to the end, and I dont regret it. good job