The Thief of Hearts (A Brynjolf Fanfic)

16

No one would know of her sacrifice, and that's what really infuriated Brynjolf. But deep down, past his grief, he knew that was how it was meant to be. They were thieves, not glorified warriors like the Dragonborn. But as they stood about the pyre and watched the flames dance softly, he couldn't help but feel like his world was better left to fend for themselves.

Sapphire had dressed her in a lovely gown and brushed her hair. Then they had laid her atop the pyre and stood in a circle as they sent her to rest. She looked so beautiful lying there, flowers in her hands. She was so young...to young to have to die like this. Even if she had saved Skyrim. Brynjolf's heart felt like stone, cold and still within his breast. His shoulder was patched up from the fight, but he'd rather have died than this happened. It was silent as they watched on, the flames licking and dancing tenderly about like soft kisses.

A letter had been mailed to Whiterun earlier that day to inform the little family she had left of what had happened. Brynjolf swallowed. He'd been but a lad when his father perished in battle. But to lose a child? He could never begin to imagine. He felt the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. He'd loved before; he wasn't a child after all. But even he couldn't deny that this had been so very different. He had actually sat down, wondered what their future would have been like had he kept his damned promise to protect her. He remembered the way she'd gazed at him with those doe-eyes in the alleyway. He wished to the highest god that he had never laid eyes on Spina.

And yet he couldn't begin to wonder what his life would have been like had he not.

He turned and walked away. He needed a moment. It had been little over a year since they had met. He recalled finding her precious and quick-witted, wanting her to be in his guild more than any coin. He remembered the way he had found her enchanting and funny, dancing whenever a fiddle played, or snapping viciously as a dragon at Vipir whenever he dared suggest something inappropriate while she was drunk off mead. He remembered the way she looked at everything in wonder, and how she managed to get excited over the littlest things.

He remembered her taste, the softness of her body, the way she had clung to him that one passion-filled night they had been allowed to have together before her death.

Brynjolf took a knee beside the lake. He was sure Delvin and Vex were watching him to ensure he wouldn't do something rash. He wasn't suicidal, but he was close to considering it. He'd cost the guild so much this past year...and now he'd cost that lass, so young and full of a life, a chance to live and love someone far more worthy than he'd ever be. He felt a tear running down his cheek and Brynjolf lowered his head. He should have taken her into his arms the moment he realized he loved her.

No...he should have cast her away and never brought her into this mess.

A new Jarl had been elected almost at once, this one a young, but stern woman who wouldn't allow riches to blind her so stupidly as Maven had. Riften had a second chance and it was all thanks to Spina. Brynjolf looked up at the sky. It was grey and cold. He stood and realized it took all of his strength to even bring himself to his feet again. "Forgive me," he muttered, voice cracking. "Forgive me for not being able to do as I promised, lass. But thank you...for...for saving Skyrim." He turned, walking back to the procession.

"I love you. Thank you for loving me back, little thorn."

The End

~

Thank you for reading "The Thief of Hearts!" I have been wanting to write a Brynjolf x reader type of fanfic for a while now. So I finally sat down and did it. I'm contemplating writing an alternative 'happy' ending so be sure to rate, comment, and subscribe if that's something you guys would like to see. I'll be taking this time to go through and brush up on grammatical mistakes and fine tune some chapters that need it specifically. I have a few more fanfics I'd like to write eventually as well. A couple of little facts in case no one caught on, too:

Spina has no description for a reason. As everyone knows, your player is customized in Skyrim. That's why I avoided giving her a hair color, eye color, race, etc. Her name is simply the name I give all my customized characters in most fantasy games (The Elder Scrolls, Dragon Age, etc). But yes, Spina is supposed to look however you want. That's why I didn't bother going into detail with her...well, details.

The Ruins of Gowmer are ficitonal! Made entirely by me :) But Sheogorath is the Daedric Prince of Madness (thus Maven's descent into insanity). I did a little bit of a Joker thing with Sheogorath, being that when he possessed Maven, she went batsh*t crazy and her body transformed into a white-faced, grinning lunatic. Also the fact that he had given her his blood in order to intoxicate her mead with his powers so that Skyrim would go loopy. Kind of like Joker with his laughing gas.

In any case, this was my first romantic fanfiction. I hope everyone enjoyed and will continue to read. I had a blast writing this and Brynjolf is sooooo husband it hurts. *_*

As always, Rate, Comment, & Subscribe!

- Sincerely, J_Elusive.