A Master Thief (A Brynjolf Fanfic)

Thirteen

(Warning: Mature Content Ahead.)

The next day passed without much interaction between Brynjolf and myself. I busied myself with preparing for what was to come, be it fight or fleeing from Riften and Skyrim altogether. Karliah had warned me that we were indeed dealing with a madman and that I needed to be extra cautious and take a guard with me whenever I dared ventured to the Plankside. In truth, I was momentarily too petrified to go at all, but I finally knew that I would need supplies should I run away. Taking Varim with me, I shopped warily and then fetched the keys to Madam Callick's manor for Mercer Frey. I'd promised them they could loot the house to the very ground, so long as the help was allowed to go with some coin and belongings. Especially little Sofia, who I worried about.

That night came and went without celebration. The thieves drank and ate their fill as they always did, and Mercer took Karliah to convene on their final plan in trapping and destroying Lord Telir once and for all. I spent the time writing out my final goodbyes--a set of several letters to my father and Madam Callick in her home in Solitude. Two merely said I had fled and was safe, while the others were if I should meet my demise be it at the hands of my evil betrothed or in some way during this onslaught. In truth, I'd stolen a dagger from Madam Callick's home and hidden it in my skirt. After embedding it with a soul gem--a little gift I was well trained in--I devised a suicide pact: Should Lord Telir somehow achieve in capturing me, I'd kill myself and have the soul gem sent to my father.

It was a bleak plan. But I'd sooner take my own life than allow the Altmer to do it.

As my hand cramped and I finished my last letter, I paused to breathe deeply and silently. Tomorrow would be the big day. We would either succeed or fail. I hated that lives would probably be lost, but being a horribly selfish girl, worried for my outcome, too. I sat at Mercer Frey's desk, writing. He'd been shocking kind and allowed me some privacy to write my farewells while he and the majority of the other guild members set upon my home like vultures. I asked that Mercer bring me word of Sofia's whereabouts when he returned, and he promised to do so.

I was growing fond of the old, crabby thief. 

I heard footsteps and turned. A man in leathers approached me, his hood hiding his features. "Yes, sir?" I called. "I apologize if you were looking for Mercer. He has allowed me to reside here while he is gone to--"

"I'm not looking for Mercer, lass," came Brynjolf's voice. He tugged his hood away. "I came to apologize."

I stared. I'd not forgotten our near tryst so quickly. However, he was here to make amends, so I should behave as a lady. I stood and smoothed out my skirt, approaching him. "It is I that should apologize, Brynjolf," I said humbly. "I approached you and have asked so much of you and your companions--your family. It isn't fair. I can only imagine what seeing a sight like that poor, poor girl had done to you yesterday. Forgive me."

He smiled gently and despite my better judgement, my soul trembled. He was positively beautiful. "No need to forgive you, lass." I smiled, sighing in relief. We were friends once more. He approached me, digging in his pocket for something. "I've come to return something I have kept for far too long," he said. 

"What's that?" I asked curiously. He pulled out a silky ribbon, extending it to me. My black ribbon Madam Callick had given me. I'd never even notice he had stolen it during the ball. I took it gently, smiling. "Thank you, Brynjolf. Though you're sure you won't keep it as a token of my gratitude?"

"Nonsense, lass," he chuckled. "It looks better on you anyway."

I laughed. He had a point. "So tell me," he said, sitting down. "Are you prepared for tomorrow?"