Importance - Yarti/Snakestone

These were prosperous days for Whiterun. The expansion and sale of nearby lands brought many to the region. In the outskirts, news came to us of an Alchemy shop that had recently taken root. Now this was no priority for us, I tend to make our own salves and potions. I am more than capable. Yet I thought that perhaps if we were in the area one day, we could step inside and have a look. The week drew to it’s close, and with that, the time had come.

A door bell signaled our entry. We shuffled into the dimly lit shop, Snake leading the way. A variety of odors wafted about the room. Some familiar and some unknown. At the counter stood a hooded woman, her attention owed to a book in her hands until the bell had shaken her from it’s grasp. She looked to Snake, smiling warmly.

“Good Afternoon” she said with a certain tone. A tone known all too well.

Snake spoke with her as I stood a ways behind him. As the woman pointed out various potions on the counter, Snake lifted stray bottles and eyed their contents. From beneath her hood, her eyes poured upon his form. The very image of a Nord. My Nord. The hood did little to hide her lustful gaze. She made small talk, that vile flirty tone in her voice. I took note of it, but brushed it off. Perhaps she just didn’t see me. The room was not terribly well lit and I was mostly out of the light. The conversation continued as they looked and talked of different wares atop the counter. Off to the right side lay a few Fatique potions. I stepped forward into the candlelight. Motioning toward them and spoke.

“Oh, a few of those.”

The hooded figure lifted her head, her lips parted in a dismissing manner.

“Miss if you could wait just a moment. I am with another customer.”

Knowing where this would go, Snake’s brow lifted. The swirling bottle in his hands coming to a stop.

“Oh, we’re together. She’s my-”, Snake began, only to be interrupted by my temper.

“Wife”, I barked in time with his word. Aggressively sloshing the bottle in my hand, eyes now aflame. I returned the red vial to it’s place and circled around the counter to to our right.

“Wife? Ah” she choked, nervously returning to her book.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean-” Snake began, but I had already engaged her again.

“Yes, a Dunmer wife. These potions here?” I said, taking a green bottle into hand and holding it aloft. I gestured with my other hand as I spoke.

“These are very important with a Dunmer wife, as you might guess. On those oh so special nights, we can’t have him tiring out after the 3rd or 4th-”

My tirade continued, taking more inappropriate turns by the moment. I won’t record the bulk of it, because that wouldn’t be proper. I merely spent ten or fifteen minutes explaining the importance, in allegory, metaphor and at times, in detail.

Snake’s jaw dropped and stayed that way, his hand instinctively coming up to hide his face. He stared on in bewilderment as the conversation came to a close.

I took another, holding them both up so that the light of the room could reflect in their depths.

“Yes, I think we will definitely need a few of those.”

She spoke little. Instead disappearing beneath the counter, she rose with a crate full of sorted potions. I pondered for a moment then returned to the front, eyeing the glistening bottles, their contents sloshing about of their own will as the counter quaked ever so slightly with each step. Her fingers nimbly picked out a couple of viridian vials and pushed them toward the edge. With some help from Snake, we began loading my arms with bottles, mostly just to tally up how many we would be getting and to clear up counter space. At once a thought crossed me. By grin and perk of ear, I shifted my gaze back to the hooded woman.

“Actually”

I released my armful of potions, letting them cascade onto the countertop. Each bottle clinking as they meet wood or themselves, some tumbling off of the table and beginning their our quest into far off parts of the room.

“Forget the others, we’ll just take all of the Fatigue potions you have in stock. You can never be too certain, Dunmer wife and all. We might even take a break on the way home and come into need of a few.”

I followed my statement with a quick wink at Snake, placing my hand on his chest. She looked at me, sighed, then scrambled around the counter to retrieve the fallen bottles and return them to their crate. I could see not but her chin and lips, but I suspected she harbored a look of defeat as she finished her task and lined up the green vials that I had requested.

Payment made, she loaded our wealth of Fatigue potions into a small chest and hoisted it into Snake’s waiting arms. As we walked out the door, I proudly hummed to myself, resting my head against his shoulder. Those potions would be lucky to last through the night.