The Elder's Scrolls

Dispelling Rumors

"So, word around the Flagon is that you have ties to the Dark Brotherhood, eh lass?"

I looked up from my tankard into the dark green eyes of the man from earlier. His fiery red hair had been pulled back from his face abit, so a few of his rugged features were more noticeable.

"... So?"

The corners of his mouth quirked downward. "I'm just wondering, lass. Trying to dispel the rumor if it isn't true."

I shrugged.

His eyes narrowed. "It's a simple question. Are you part of the Brotherhood or no? Because we do things differently here. You don't kill. We steal. That's it."

I pulled the tankard to my lips and tilted it back, shuddering as the stinging mead rushed down my throat. Sitting the tankard back down, I turned to face him.

"Yes, I'm apart of the Dark Brotherhood. I'm the Listener. The Night Mother talks to me."

His mouth twitched, then opened as if to say something, then closed.

"What? Do you not believe me?"

"I do, lass. But there's more things bothering me. And the rest of the Guild, too." He sat down on the bench opposite me.

I blinked.

Taking that as his cue to continue, her plunged in. "How old are you, eh?"

"Twenty."

He nodded. "Thought so. What makes you want to kill, lass? Kill innocent people, huh?" He strained the word 'innocent.'

My nose wrinkled on insticnt. I could feel the beast within stirring. "Personal issues."

"What kind of issues? We're a family now, Torra. You can talk to us."

Don't tell him anything! the she - wolf snarled. Swallowing in an attempt to quell her anger, I sat up a bit straighter.

"I'd rather not talk about them right now, Brynjolf." I said simply.

He shook his head so slightly I barely noticed. He shuffled his hands, then lie them flat on the table. "Alright, lass. What about those scars on your face?"

"I almost lost a fight with a sabre cat."

Lie! The beast snarled again. Tell him the truth!

I winced inwardly, then blurted out: "That was a lie."

His eyebrows raised. "Really? Why lie, Torra? You can trust me."

"I - I don't know."

"Tell me the truth then." He licked his lips before adding : "If it's something big, then I'll make this the last question."

"Fine." I took a deep breath. "I'm a werewolf."

His face stayed surprisingly void of emotion. He tilted his head in a sign to continue.

"I tried separating with the beast. But not in the proper way. She ... she attacked me. As in, she came from my body in a physical form." I puffed up my cheeks, then slowly let the air out. "She put these scars on my face," I paused to point at the inflamed scratches on my lower cheek. "there's no way to heal them all the way. I've tried everything. Potions ... salves ..." I found myself pausing between each word. "I even went to a Priestess of Kynereth!"

Don't lie again.

I hung my head, feeling the emotional pain from two years prior, when I'd first received the wounds and found I couldn't remove them.

Brynjolf had remained silent the entirety of my tale, not once offering a word of comfort or even disgust. I lifted my head to watch as he stood from the bench. Using both hands, he covered his face as he exhaled slowly.

Finally finding the right thing to say, he spoke again: "Lass. That's quite a story. But I've got some matters to attend to. I'll see you around the Cistern, eh?" He hesitated for a moment's time, then turned and hurriedly headed for the ladder leading to the Riften cemetery.