A Master Thief (A Brynjolf Fanfic)

Eight

Several days passed without contact from Lord Telir and that made me far more terrified than hearing from him ever would. I began to see his grim, elvish face beaming at me from behind walls and in the crowds. Riften soon lost its exciting aura and I began to long for Cryodiil once again. One night in my distress, I penned out a hysterical letter to my father begging for help; but I soon came down from my panic and sobbingly destroyed it. My father cared for me, but his new wife would only call me a liar and ungrateful should she get her hands on any evidence of my being unhappy. I felt like a soulless vessel, going day in and out. I ate little, then ate too much. My dresses needed constantly tailoring to the point that my seamstress grew weary with me. I snapped at little Sofia and caused her to cry and felt like throwing myself into the canals below the Plankside. 

Yet I proved far too cowardly for that.

Madam Callick avoided me like the plague. It wasn't until breakfast one morning that I received a letter from her. It had merely said she had an urgent matter to attend to in Solitude and would not be present for my birthday. She went on to apologize and tell me she would send me a lovely Imperial gift, but in truth I merely crumpled up the paper. In light of finding out my intended was a murderer, I had forgotten entirely about my eighteenth birthday approaching. I felt hollow inside, even when I deigned dress and come down to find a huge breakfast awaiting me. I had no appetite that morning and instead offered the majority of it to the servants.

Why would no one believe me? Was I truly worth so little that even the woman who raised me cared not that my life was in danger? Though I was spoiled and used to lavishness, I was hardly a liar. 

I dressed myself and had a guard accompany me for some humid air as I took a walk around Riften. I needed to get out of the house. The day was a calm one, with few vendors selling and not many travelers occupying the Bee and Barb Inn. The sun was high and a cool breeze from the Jerall Mountains blew through the city, rustling my thick hair and cooling my nerves. I sat momentarily and bade my guard stand afoot a bit. I began to think of possibilities for myself. I could jump onto a Khajiit caravan and disappear into the night; I could take up whoring in Windhelm and change my name to something else, like Rose or Tulip; I could become a pirate lass aboard an Argonian ship and sail the seas of Tamriel. 

I liked that last one and for the first time managed to a smile a bit. It was a far fetched idea, but I loved the idea of traveling above killing myself. 

"Lass?"

I whirled, terrified. But to my shock, it was not Lord Telir; it was Brynjolf. He was boldly wearing his leather armor and his hair hung about his face. His green eyes sparkled at me. "What on earth are you doing here?" he asked me.

I felt a surge of pain in my chest; seeing him as he first came to me that fateful night those months ago made me ache. I didn't understand why I felt such a longing for this boy--he was a petty crook, a thief, and a seducer of women. Or at least that was the sensation I got from him. He played me for a fool the night of  the bloody ball and left me alone to face a demon while he made off with his treasure. And yet...I found that if Brynjolf kissed me right now, I'd simply melt into a puddle of worthless nothing.

"Get away from me," I managed to hiss, standing.

"Whoa, whoa," he raised his hands, eyes widening. He had an odd expression on his face. "I know you're angry with me. Let me explain, please--"

"Don't bother," I barked. I turned to call for my guard, but Brynjolf was faster. He sped in front of me and looked into my eyes. 

"Lady Ria, please," he said so soulfully I paused. "Give me but a moment. I know you're livid but if you'll do me a kindness?"

"Why should I?" I asked, hands on my hips and nose up in the air. "You made a fool of me!" He didn't respond, but simply stood there gazing at me with sorrowful eyes. Against my better judgement, I sighed. "My guard will see us and assume you're here to rob me." I nodded at his leathers. 

"No," he shook his red hair. "He's occupied with that pretty merchant over there." I glanced over and sure enough the young guardsman was leaned against a stall, beaming happily at a slender girl with fair hair. I nodded and Brynjolf offered me his hand (which I respectfully declined). We moved off a few paces and sat upon the bridge.

"I owe you an apology and an explanation," he muttered, but suddenly his brow furrowed. "You look pale--have you been ill?"

"Please," I rolled my eyes. "Don't pretend like you suddenly care for my well being." To my horrid satisfaction, I could tell my words hurt him. 

"I do care, Ria," Brynjolf implored, then sighed. "Look, my guildmaster, Mercer Frey, was threatening to kick me out of the guild due to the fact I hadn't been bringing in my fair share of steals. The ball was an opportunity for me to show my worth. I should have never toyed with your emotions in such a way."

"So you admit it, then?" I asked, tears prickling in the corners of my eyes. 

"Ria...," he murmured softly. 

"I was nothing more than a foolish child with her foot in the door of wealth and fame...a perfect opportunity for a thief."

"That's not true!" he cried so suddenly I jumped. 

"It is," I sobbed back, tears streaming down my face wretchedly. "I am nothing more than a puppet for everyone! You, Lord Telir, Madam Callick, my father and his horrible wife! I am nothing but a way to further themselves!" My last scream echoed, causing people to turn and stare. But to his credit, Brynjolf didn't look phased. He leaned down and studied me, reaching up to brush a tear from my cheek. I glanced up at him. We were face to face and I became immediately self-conscious of my looks. I was sure my face was swollen and red, with puffy eyes and a running nose.

"Lady Ria," Brynjolf mumbled. "Since the night I saw you hanging out the window like a little bird studying a cat from afar, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. The night at the ball...you were like a sylphide, casting a spell of longing on me. I would have followed you anywhere. That was the main reason I went to the stupid ball. Believe me or not, but that is the truth. The riches and the stealing came later."

I merely stared at him. He looked down and stood slowly. "I heard you're to be wed," he said, sounding like a kicked puppy. "I wanted to wish you congratulations."

My world came crashing down. I stood, startling him; without a warning, I wove my fingers into his hair and kissed him full on the lips. We stood there for perhaps five seconds, but to me, it seemed an eternity. My heart raced and my breathing was ragged. I felt his body go soft at my touch. I pulled away, stunned; he gazed at me, face flushed and beautiful.

"I wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you," I said breathlessly. "I am to be wed to a killer, Brynjolf." I saw his eyes bulge. "I wanted to do something for myself before I am to die at the hands of my husband."

His neck muscles clenched. "Who?" he growled so savagely I shivered.

"Lord Telir Kaeosin, son to a Thalmor."

He didn't respond but merely stared at me. "It will not pass," he said finally."

"What do you--"

"Lord Telir," he announced, tugging his hood over his hair. "He won't be marrying you. Not if I can do anything about it."

"But what can you do?" I asked plaintively. 

"Whatever I must."

~

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Mehhhhh kind of a lame chapter. But I'm off today and really wanted to update. I promise I'm gonna get the drama rolling here soon. 

Also, I don't think I clarified, but the small city of Crouis is fictional, made by me. I kind of envisioned it like a fantasy-themed Paris, France.