A Master Thief (A Brynjolf Fanfic)

Seven

I awoke some time later to a woman gently dabbing a damp cloth to my forehead. My head pounded from my fall and the wine, but worsened when I sat upright, startling the old healer. She ordered me to relax and lie back, but my pulse quickened and I felt bile in my gut threatening to escape from my lips. The room swayed so I did as she bade me, but I knew I would not be sleeping. The events of the ball had hounded my delirious sleep and I begged--no, I prayed--that what I had seen had been some horrible nightmare. Perhaps I had been drugged? Perhaps everything I'd witnessed, the dead woman, her insides strewn about as if they were decorations, my betrothed's calm demeanor...perhaps it had all been a terrible illusion my mind had simply cast because I was so eager to be free from this impending marriage.

And Brynjolf....

I gasped once more, reminded of the thief. He'd fled the moment he'd had a chance. He hadn't truly come for me, and while there was something far more pressing to attend to, I won't lie and say that thought didn't hurt. Then I began to hate myself. I was nothing but a little idiot, fond of a rogue with his own agenda that I knew absolutely nothing about. We'd talked and seemed to enjoy each other's company at the ball before my awful discovery, but now it was clear that Brynjolf had merely used me as means to get inside the Thalmor Manor. I was stricken with heartache and fear, but the latter began to preside. I would not be wed to a murderer. 

"Ria," came Madam Callick's gasp. I looked up as she rushed to my bedside. "Oh, you poor thing."

"Madam Callick," I muttered hoarsely. "What happened?"

"You fainted, sweet child," she announced to my embarrassment. "I suppose hearing of Lord Telir's being robbed caused you quite a scare."

"No, no," I tried sitting up again. "Madam Callick, you must listen to me! I saw something terrible at the ball!"

"What?" her forehead creased. "Ria, what are you--"

"Madam, please!" I cried. Her eyes widened and she stared; I had her attention. "Madam Callick, when I went to find the loo, I got lost. I smelled iron and followed my nose. I went into a room and found Lord Telir there--"

"Riannia!" Madam scolded. "That is not ladylike, peeping into your guest's closed off quarters."

"Madam Callick," I practically sobbed. "Lord Telir had murdered a woman! He had her naked corpse in his hands and was perfectly content to be there."

The silence that engulfed us was heavy enough to crush me. Madam Callick looked at me with an unreadable expression on her face, but it definitely wasn't not pleasure. I felt myself choking; the sick memory wanted me to vomit upon myself. I clutched the blankets tightly in my fists. Finally, Madam Callick sighed and patted my hand. "Ria," she murmured gently. "I think the effects of the drinks are inhibiting you, dear. I heard the healer say you bumped your head when you fell, as well. I think you were just having a nightmare."

No, no, no!

Madam Callick stood to leave and I shot out, clutching to her desperately. "Madam, please," I sobbed, tears stinging my face. "He'd killed her and didn't care at all that I had seen him! He will kill me next!"

"Ria, calm down," she said, growing anxious at my wild behavior.

"He will gut me like a pig," I screamed in hysterics, the images flashing before my eyes like a portrait. "And he will toss my remains in the streets like a common whore!"

"Riannia, enough!"

"I don't want to die," I cried. "I don't want to marry him. He will kill me!"

Slap!

I held my stinging cheek in my hand. The sound of her palm across my skin echoed in the room. I dared glance at her, and Madam Callick looked more stunned at her reaction than she did at anything else. I'd never been stricken before, but it worked in getting me to be quiet. I felt my lip tremble in fear, but I didn't allow myself to cry anymore.