A Master Thief (A Brynjolf Fanfic)

Four

I spent my next two days without much excitement. I was forced to spend the majority of those hours in the company of Lord Telir Kaeosin. I found him to be far more than I'd initially imagined, I'll admit--Telir was well-read, intelligent beyond his twenty-one years, and full of opinions that I found similar to my own. We bonded fast, laughing and finding the other charming. However, no matter how I tried, something about the Elf man made me so utterly uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the way he touched my knee after he made me giggle to a joke; perhaps it was the way he brushed hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear when we were caught up in a silence. He was far too physical for my tastes. But perhaps the Altmer were fond of touching?

I didn't like it. But again, no one seemed to care.

I was utterly confused as to the disappearance of my black ribbon, though. In fact, I cared more about the little artifact than I did about my betrothed, I'm ashamed to say. Nonetheless, I sought it out eagerly. I momentarily wondered if Sofia could have stolen it, but the child lacked that sort of gall. She was terrified of her own shadow and had not a thieving bone in her frail body. But the thief boy? Now he had gall in plenty.  

Horrible as it sounds, I wondered if I'd ever see him again. I'd quickly drawn the comparison to the cheeky boy in the market to the thief in my windowsill. But I wondered why he gave me pretense. Why not simply admit to who he was? It was a manner of decorum I'm sure. I gradually grew obsessed with the ideals of the thieves and began to study them in whatever tomes I could find. The Thieves' Guild, I learned, had been around for centuries, working not only as sly crooks, but muscle and loan sharks when necessary. They had a vast majority of race, sex, and ages in their ranks, and worshipped the Daedric Prince, Nocturnal as their patron. I found myself completely enchanted by their stories, and read them whenever I could, longing--in a horrible sense--that I may see the green-eyed boy once more before we left Riften. 

And as fate would have it, I did.

It was our seventh week there in the city. The moons were high once more and I'd opened my windows to air out my muggy room. I sat in my window seat, gazing out and lost in my thoughts. That particular day, Lord Telir had taken me riding along the countryside beyond Riften's walls. I'd found the ride enjoyable, but when we had stopped for a picnic, my betrothed had resumed his staring and this time, lacing his elegant fingers with my own. I'd had no idea how to ask him to give me space and respect my privacy. So I'd merely let it happen. Yet the whole ordeal had left me feeling unclean and shaken. So here I was, freshly bathed and sitting in my cushioned window seat, sighing as the cooler night air dried my damp locks.

And that's when I heard him.

"Lass...lass...," he'd been calling. I looked down, my heart skipping a beat and nodded at him. He clambered up to my window with the grace of a cat, and once perched outside, smirked at me with those lovely lips. "Good to see you. You're looking well."

"It's you," I breathed. "Where did you go? I've been waiting to see you again." I blushed at my boldness.

"Did you?" he chuckled, obviously pleased. " Well, well....Seems I have a magic charm about me, I do."

"Don't play coy," I insisted. "I know you're the boy from the market. And that the ribbon in your hair is mine."

He paused, then  withdrew his hood. I inhaled sharply. In the shadows, he was even more handsome than I imagined, with strong Nord features, those hypnotic lips, and his thick auburn hair. "How'd you guess?" he asked, looking disappointed that his disguise had done little to trick me.

"I'm smarter than I look," I chuckled nervously. I worried if Madam Callick would walk by that she would hear our conversation and faint from the scandal. "What is your name, thief boy?"

"I'm Brynjolf," he nodded in a bow, eyes glimmering in mischief. "What's your name, rich girl?"

"I'm not rich," I insisted. 

"Aye?" he looked around my surroundings and hopped inside to my alarm. He walked about with hands clapped behind his back, studying items in the room with mock interest. "Looks expensive to me."

"Get out!" I cried softly. "If a guard catches you, you'll be hung!"

"Nonsense," he chuckled. "And you didn't tell me your name."

"Riannia," I sighed. "Riannia Atticus. But I go by Ria."

"Ria," he murmured. I saw his eyes dart up and down my face before he nodded, turning. "Pretty name," he announced. "A tad Imperial, but I like it."

"Well, it should be, seeing as I am an Imperial," I huffed, a bit emboldened. 

"I couldn't tell," he smirked in sarcasm.

"Did you come here to simply humiliate me?" I barked. "If so, feel free to leave."

"No, no," he admitted. "I came for another piece of share. The ribbon was nice, but not worth as much as I hoped."

"Did you bring it back?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I'd hope so if you want something else for your little thief friends."

"My 'little thief friends' namely Mercer Frey will have my head if I don't bring in something of value," he mumbled. "And I'd hoped you had a heart of mercy on you, being such a lovely and generous lady as you are."

"I beg your pardon?" I cried. "You stole my ribbon from me!"

"And I wear it proudly, miss," he nodded, smirking once more. We merely stared at each other until I heard a commotion outside my door. Gasping, I grabbed a pair of golden earrings and tossed them to him. 

"Go!" I hissed. "Before you're caught."

"You'll not turn me to the authorities?" he asked in genuine surprise.

"Not if you go...now!" I shoved him to the window and he paused only long enough to study me once more. "What now?" I asked.

"Ria," he murmured. I'll admit hearing my name on his tongue made my heart skip a beat. "I'd like to see you again tomorrow night. No thieving, just a visit if that's okay?"

I stared at him. Swallowing, I nodded nervously, shocked at my own boldness. "Yes," I whispered. "Tomorrow when the moons have reached their peak. Otherwise, my benefactress will be awake still."

"Until then, I suppose," he mumbled. He grasped my fingers and kissed them swiftly, leaping from my window and darting into the darkness before I could blink. I stood there, and to my shock, I held my black ribbon in my palm once more. 

"Brynjolf," I mumbled to myself, my pulse quaking. "Brynjolf the thief."

I found I liked his name far more than I liked Telir.

~

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