Skyrim One-Shots, Ships, & More! (Original Edition)

Brynjolf x Reader: Really

The sound of leather boots on the cobblestone beneath us was loud against the noise of the city. The petty thief I was chasing down, none other than the leader (or so I called him since Mercer Frey could barely lead himself, much less an entire band of thieves,) Brynjolf. In his hand, he held a silver amulet I had specifically tracked down for a Khajiit Caravan.

"Hey, I stole that amulet myself! Give it back!" I yelled to him, shoving past the large group of people gathering in the small market in the centre of town. One woman in noble clothes shoved back, making me stumble against the loose rocks and cracked pavement.

I tripped, hitting the ground, but it only took me no less than a minute to get back up onto my feet and back after chasing him. By the time I was up, Bryn was already past Honorhall Orphanage. I could hear the horrible owner of that place shrieking at the children from here.

"You have to be quicker than that to get this back!" he shouted back as he made straightaway for the back gates. When I finally got to said gates, he had already made it to the farm just down the road, and I could still see that damned amulet jumping around in his hand (him being him, of course, he was holding it by the chain rather than the actual amulet itself).

Leathers met grass and dirt as I pushed off the cobblestones and tackled Brynjolf, sending both of us into the weeds and unkempt lawn of the farm. I pried open his hand and pulled the amulet out, holding it above my head triumphantly. "Now that I have this back, no thanks to you, I can finally return this to Kharjo in the Caravan. I think he will appreciate this very much."

I pushed off of him. regaining my grounding, and dumped it into the bag on my hip. No sense in losing it if I just got it back.

"I'm heading down to Whiterun. It'll probably take me a day or two to get there and back, not counting a couple pit stops along the way. If you need anything...good luck." I said, staring down the road towards Whiterun. It would be a long walk, but I could manage.

Three days later when I returned to the guild, I found everyone amid a small festival, of course, complete with the entire month's supply of mead. The normal gang was in their spots, Tonilia on her bench, the creepy face sculptor by the fence, Vex by her side, Delvon at his table, scattered with threatening letters from Vex, and Bryn at the bar, taking up the majority of the seats. I got through the guild's warm welcome back, and took a seat next to Bryn at the bar, telling Vekel to grab me a bottle of mead.

"Can't do that," he said gruffly. "Ginger over here's drank all but three. I gotta keep a few for the crazies in the subwarren behind here. They pay well."

I huffed, not saying anything. Vekel began wiping the bar down with an almost dry rag, cleaning off some of the Ratway gunk.

"You might want to take him off to bed, (y/n). He's had almost the entire stock and I don't think he can walk." Vekel looked over to Bryn, who had his head down on the bar and was dozing off.

I groaned quietly as I stood up. Those bar stools weren't good on the back when you sat for a while. I pulled Bryn up by the collar. His head rolled back as he faded in and out of being awake and dead asleep. I let go of him, letting him fall back onto the bar with a loud THUD, and turned to Dirge.

"Hey, mind packing him back to his room? I don't think he can walk..."

~

Leather hit fur as Bryn was dumped into his bed. I pulled five coins from my bag, dumping them into Dirge's outstretched palm. "Thank you for your help, sir," I said, smiling softly at him.

I looked at the small nightstand next to Bryn's bed, wondering what was inside it. He was dead asleep, he wouldn't mind me just checking, right?

After three broken lock picks, and a stupid amount of time to do it, I finally got the drawers open. In the top, there was a few things, simple possessions. Two emeralds, an amethyst, and a small gold ring. Nothing unusual for a thief to have.

In the bottom drawer I found three objects that stood out to me: A diamond-gold ring with a small ring of dust on it (which Bryn was famous for selling automatically. He never kept one long enough for it to gather dust,) the handle of a wooden sword, carved down to a sharp point (what's the point of a shiv when everyone carries around daggers and swords?), and a small, leather journal.

I pulled up a chair discarded nearby, and pulled the ring out first, examining it in the torchlight. The gem was of good size, polished and cut perfectly. The band was the perfect size for me, and the intricate design on the inside of the band was actually a pattern I quite liked. I set it back down in the drawer and picked up the journal.

The brass-coloured buckle on the front was long gone, leaving loose straps where they once were connected. I peeled open the book, the pages making a light crinkle as they came apart, and looked at the first entry.

23rd of Sun's Height: A new adventurer came into town, got caught pick pocketing a guard. Perhaps they'll make a good new addition to the guild.

I pressed further. Was he talking about me? I don't remember being arrested when I first got to town.

24th of Sun's Height: The pickpocket got released today, after only a day in the dank Riften jails. I caught them pick pocketing Brand-Shei, the sneaky little dark elf.

I approached them and gave them a task: Put that pick-pocketing to good use, plant the ring on Shei and get him out of the way. That client would be happy if it was finally done.

Not three minutes into my speech about that skeever blood mixture I called Falmer Blood they waved to me, giving me the signal they were done. I wrapped up quickly and everyone dispersed, and not five minutes later, Brand-Shei was being taken away by the guards. Doubt he'll be in jail long, but it sure will ruin his business. Nobody likes a thieving merchant.

I planted that ring. He was talking about me.

2nd of Sun's Dawn: The Summerset Thieves are no more. They came back bloody and bruised, but nothing a good day's rest couldn't fix. They had quite the stories to tell afterwards, especially about the dramatic burning of the Thieves' banner hanging in their den.

'The only good rival is a dead rival', as they put it. I certainly like their spark.

I read the next entry.

25th of Midyear:

That was yesterday. I readjusted in my seat and continued on.

25th of Midyear: Three days gone so far, off to Whiterun to return some amulet to some cat. I certainly wouldn't have done it, especially not for free, but the (lass/lad) seems to have a good streak in them. I will admit-

"(y/n)? What are you doing with that?"

I fumbled the book as I went to close it, dropping it face-down on the dirty floor, and pressed myself into my chair. "uhh...nothing? I wanted to make sure you didn't die in your sleep or something. A lot of people kick it from alcohol poisoning every day!"

"Really?" he sat up, giving me a suspicious look, "You were making sure I didn't die in my sleep? You've never done that for anyone."

"Yes, I have! They were just asleep when I did it!"

"Fine. Finish reading my personal journal, then let me sleep."

I sheepishly picked the book back up and finished the entry.

I will admit that I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about them, gods forbid have them next to me.

I set the book back in the drawer, "So...who's the ring for? You normally sell those quickly."

Brynjolf looked at the floor, "You read what I wrote. Who do you think?"

I felt a wave of heat rise to my cheeks as I turned a lovely shade of pink, though it looked red in the torchlight. "Um, I will say, if you really want to go out sometime, I would be happy to do so. I hear the Blue Palace has some lovely places to pickpocket people."

"Really?"

I nodded, "Really." 

(Word Count: 1478)