"
girl,
with an accent of blood
who speaks in foreign tongues
whose vowels are the sound of metal clashing.
warrior,
with fire in her veins
and armor beneath her skin
who crushes the earth beneath her feet.
immortal,
hair streaked with daggers
and iron filling her lungs
each breath invitingly toxic.
princess,
with lips made of glass
and a voice cut from steel
features born from thunder and battle.
heroine,
a grin made for war
and eyes flecked with ash
striding, powerful, into the arms of death.
"
Perhaps she will be the one you follow into battle [T.K.]
The young Dragonborn left her small deerskin tent, and strolled out into the clearing of the camp.
Cold. Always cold.
The sky hung low with large gray clouds, and fine mist began to settle in the early morning fog. Dew gathered on the grass, freezing as it touched the air. The cold air nipped her cheeks, and stiffened the leather of her black guild armor. Her boots were slick to her mid-calf from the droplets on the grass. She pulled her hood over her head, and shivered as she wrapped her arms across her chest. Her movement caused the leather buckles on her tunic to crease and moan. The 'warm' undergarments she wore under her armor didn't seem to be doing any good.
They had set up a small camp the night before, bringing only a couple of tents, bed rolls, and some basic supplies. A fire blazed in the center, providing some warmth to the inhabitants of the camp.
"Mornin' lovely!" shouted Delvin, a little too enthusiastic for her taste. She stifled a yawn in response. He was still awake from the last watch. "You're up early… what's the matter? Too excited to sleep?" He smiled a gap-toothed grin, as a he grabbed a pan from the chest behind him and hurled it onto the fire. "Make yourself useful, Darlin." He tossed her a potato and smiled. "Breakfast," he grinned as he began to pour some oil into the pan.
"By the nine, Delvin. Don't you believe in coffee?" she groaned.
"Never have, my love." He replied, taking a huge bite out of a glossy red apple. "Can't stand the stuff, tastes like piss." she cringed as a chunk of chewed apple landed on her cheek.
She unsheathed her ebony dagger from the holster wrapped around her thigh, and began shaving the potato into the pan.
What a use for such a fine blade…
The raw potatoes sizzled as they hit the oil. When she finished with the potato she started on three more. Adding some salt, and garlic, before dicing a large onion and throwing it in, too.
"Gettin' fancy?" toyed Delvin, as he sliced the venison they had butchered the day before into long, thin, strips. She settled on a log close to the fire, waiting for her limbs to warm.
When the meat hit the pan, it popped and hissed, sending its smoky aroma into the air. The sun had brightened the gray sky. It wasn't long before the rich smell of breakfast wafted through the camp, waking its inhabitants.
"Morning," she heard the thick accent of her superior, Brynjolf, as he exited his tent. "Del, Lass…" He gave a quick nod in her direction. "Up early are we?" He rubbed his hands together to fend off the cold, and sat across from her on an opposing log. She couldn't help but study the man in front of her. His guild armor fit his muscular frame like a glove, outlining the curves of his biceps and shoulders. The buckles on his armor stretched across his chest; he was definitely solid. A long bearskin cloak draped over his shoulders for warmth, and his shaggy red hair waved in the morning humidity. His eyes caught hers, and she immediately glanced away.
Guilty. The Dragonborn shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the wandering thoughts. She tried to suppress the threatening flush that she felt rushing to her cheeks. She drew in a slow breath through he nose, willing her emotion to settle. Slipping again. She was furious with herself… but damn it; he was attractive.
"Where's the damn coffee around here….? "Brynjolf growled as he stood up to get some hot water. Delvin looked at her and smiled that irritating grin. He obviously noticed her brief lapse of judgment.
She had joined the Thieves' Guild only four months ago when she stumbled through Riften. She quickly learned that Riften was no good… at least not for a common citizen. She met Brynjolf that day in the center of town. He was arrogant and smug, but yet, alluring. He commanded a crowd. She completed job after job at his request, even though she was always irritated by his antics. It was a strange feeling. At first, she didn't condone the behavior of the Guild, and saw them all as a blemish. An organization totally dependent on preying on the people of the city. Even worse, controlled by the Black Briar family. Still, she played along. She learned to love the shadows, and took pleasure in the challenge, seeing how far she could stretch her limits before getting caught with her hands in someone else's pockets.
Over time, annoyance became acceptance, then more. She returned to the Cistern day after day for him. It didn't take long for her to realize that she was infatuated with him. She tried to push the feelings away, time and time again, yet they always flared up. Usually in the least convenient situations. They rarely interacted…she made sure of it. Their deepest conversations included taking orders, exchanging snide comments, or locking eyes from across the room. Those thoughts were something she would never entertain. Besides, most of the time she couldn't decide whether she was falling for him, or wanted to slit his throat.
Soon the others had started to join them around the fire. Vex sat down next to her and gave her a condescending smirk, her blonde hair slicked back. Then Rune, Sapphire, Viper, Dirge, and the rest appeared out of their tents.
Mercer had called an impromptu meeting only a few days earlier to explain their mission. There had been rumors of a transport coming from the northwest, moving valuables away from the Imperial cities to a fort in the south for safe keeping. Mercer had sent his lead guild members. They were to intercept the convoy and take as much as they could for the Guild. In turn, cementing their presence within the war. After days of traveling by horseback, they set up camp in a remote location outside of Falkreath.
"Coffee, Lass?" Brynjolf asked, with a wry smile. She took the mug from him with a quick nod.
"Thank you…" she breathed. He nodded, and forced a smile.
The thieves shoveled in their breakfast while sharing sleepy stories, and excitements about the day's loot. Laughter echoed in the crisp morning air, as the sun rose higher in the sky above them.
"Alright guild," spoke their leader in his thick accent. "it's time." They made their way to their tents, strapping on shields, and acquiring their weapons. Axes, swords, daggers and war hammers scraped into their sheaths and holsters. She threw a quiver of arrows over her back, then her Elven shield that she had smithed herself. She favored the ebony war axe that rested on her hip. Her fingers flexed around her bow.
This was the first time that she had worked as a team with the other guild members. Often times, they took individual jobs, never working directly together. In that moment, she realized she didn't know what her guild family was capable of. The guild saw her as a small thief, swift, and quiet. She had a small frame and large eyes, her long dark hair always pulled to the side in a long, loose braid. To Mercer and the rest of the Guild, she was as intimidating as a boiled crème tart. They definitely hadn't learned of her true experience. Since joining the guild, she took jobs silently, learning from those around her. Yet, she never spoke of her real story. She would disappear from time to time, leaving to fulfill her responsibilities in other holds. Discussing business with Jarls, and confronting dragons across Skyrim; its people's fate always in the epicenter of her mind. It was true… her Guild family had no idea what she was capable of. Though she was not respected as Dragonborn here, it was nice to have one place in Skyrim where she felt the comfort of anonymity.
"Based on the location of the convoy, it looks like the best option is to pair up." He glanced at the guild members, and they began to migrate towards their confidantes. Vex, and Sapphire, Dirge and Viper. She made her way over to Rune, taking a swing at him and landing a playful punch on his shoulder. She enjoyed his company, and always thought they would work well together.
"Nice try, Lass." He smirked, as he sheathed his Dwarven dagger on his hip. "The least experienced goes with me." She narrowed her eyes.
Great.
She strode towards him. "And why is that?" He raised his eyebrows as she confronted him. The others fell silent. It seemed he wasn't used to his word being challenged.
He turned and faced her, straight on. She gave his imposing frame a once over. "It would be a shame for one person jeopardize the whole operation." He towered over her. "In other words, Lass, so I don't have to worry about you doing anything stupid."
"That's ridiculous." She balled her fist around her bow, as a chorus of four letter words spilled from her mouth. She glanced at Delvin, who's expression seemed to say shut the hell up. "I've clearly proven that I deserve to be here," Her boss smiled. "and I don't need you to baby sit me."
"True, Lass," He smiled. "You don't. But I will be... at Mercer's request." He strapped a steel dagger to his thigh. "I hope you're ready, we leave in 20." She glared, and pushed past him. He was infuriating, in so many ways.
They met their marked destination, tied their horses, and began the long walk to their target. She remained by his side, keeping a secure hold on her bow. They moved silently over the countryside, one foot over the other, approaching their location. Brynjolf was almost invisible by her side. For a man with such a muscular frame, his feet never made a sound. She would have thought that he had stopped breathing, if it had not been for the condensation that billowed from his lips like light, frosty, smoke. The muscles in his thighs flexed and relaxed. He gave her a signal, and they lowered to their knees, edging up the side of the ridge on their middles. Now they would wait, side by side for the convoy to approach on the winding road ahead of them. They watched the road in silence as many minutes passed. They lay close to one another; their sides almost touching. The ground was cold, yet her blood was running warm through her veins. He smelled of the wind, bright and wild, mixed with the rich smell of leather. She let out a sigh as she emptied the air from her lungs.
"This could take a while." he whispered under his breath as he continued toward a small plateau before the peak. Brynjolf surveyed their vantage point, and motioned to her to follow. He settled himself on the plateau, back to the ridge, careful not to be visible. She took a seat next to him.
"So what's it been now…about four months, Lass?" he asked, his green eyes on her.
"About…" was the only conversation she was willing to offer.
"So very talkative…" He raised his eyebrows and glanced away. She beamed, amused at his annoyance. "Yet," His mouth was a hard line. "Your guild family knows very little about you."
"I like it that way." She turned to him and flashed a prim smile. He didn't find it amusing.
"C'mon Lass…" His silken eyes traced her face. "We all have stories." She relaxed under his gaze. They locked eyes once again. She felt like she could sink in the deep green pools that ebbed and flowed over her. Sink, drown, and die.
It seemed like minutes before she could break his gaze. "I don't" She cleared her throat, and whispered it… trying to force the words out of her mouth.
"Do you know what I think?" Their shoulders were almost touching. She looked up from the rocks she was studying beneath her, and felt a jolt of electricity pass through her chest. His eyes had never left her face. "I think you're hiding something." Her eyes glanced to his lips as he spoke.
"Is that so?" She scoffed. This time she didn't look away. "…And what about you? What are you hiding?"
He smiled like a wolf considering his prey. "I don't hide things, Lass. Not from the guild." She narrowed her eyes in his. He was so unusual. At times, radiant with laughter and liveliness. Now, he was different. Serious, and thoughtful. Almost severe. His bright green eyes melted into a soft jade. "You, on the other hand, are a ghost, and you like it." His eyes beamed. "You disappear at a moment's notice."
"I have more important things to do then hang around a bunch of men at the Flagon." She held his gaze.
"You keep no company." He shot back
She shook her head. "I don't need people." He drew a flask from his breast pocket, pulled the cork, and took a deep swig; grimacing at the strength of its contents. He smiled and offered her a drink.
"I'm good." She waived it off, he shrugged his shoulders and replaced the cork.
"You don't drink." He smirked at another win.
"I drink. I don't drink while I'm working, and you shouldn't either."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Keeps me sharp, Lass."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure."
"Our Fences tell me you sell some interesting things."
"I sell what I come across…" She smiled. "This is a fun game, what else do you have?"
"You hold more coin than the vault in the Cistern."
She raised her eyebrows at his observation. "…And you know that how?" He was right, she spent her free time raiding Nord ruins, and collecting whatever she could find.
"Deduction, Lass," He half smiled. "You underestimate me."
It was apparent. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
"You carry some quite impressive weapons for such a small thing…"
She chuckled, "I'm more dangerous than you know." He raised an eyebrow at her word choice.
"You're confident; more confident than any other new recruit we've had. Ever. You took to this job fast." His forehead creased, as he glanced at the ground.
"I'm a quick learner." Her smile widened.
"True, but it's more than that."
"Allegedly..."
"What really gets me, Lass," his tone darkened, as he took another drink. "Is that, you talk." He met her eyes again. "You tell jokes, and laugh with Del. You rip Sapphire and Vex on a daily basis. You even shoot the shit with the guys from time to time." His energy changed again. "But not me, Lass. For some reason, we don't speak more than a few words, if any." He waved his hand dismissively. "You see me, Lass, and you walk the other way." She watched his lips, as he caught her eyes. "Curious."
Her breath caught in her chest. He saw everything. Well… almost everything, and she wasn't the least bit surprised. But she wasn't some stupid girl. She gravitated towards him, captivated by him… which was exactly why she needed to stay away. He spoke, and her resolve threatened to crumble. She refused to give in, so it was better not to speak at all, and spend as little time in his presence as possible.
"I'm not quite sure what you are hiding, or why you're hiding it… but I am sure we will all find out soon enough. It's awfully hard to hide things from a group of seasoned thieves." He offered her the flask again, and this time she accepted. She popped the cork and took a long pull, filling her cheeks with the strong liquid. She hated spirits. She swallowed hard, trying not to show any weakness.
"Thought so." He growled through a smile. She winced and exhaled, the liquor on her breath.
They sat in silence. Just when I thought I had a handle on this. Her chest burned. Was it the liquor? Or sitting here with no defense? Her eyes bore into his, searching his face. They flashed, warm, and unblinking.
Without thinking, she turned towards him. Wrapping her fingers though the buckles strapped tight across his armor. She gripped his chest, and he raised his eyebrows. Then, she jerked him toward her. Hard. Crushing her lips to his.
This. This is the reason. She thought as she kissed him, his energy rushing through her veins likes venomous snake bite. His lips were soft, and she tasted the liquor on his breath. In one action, the walls she had been so careful keep fell like a house of cards. He took in a sharp breath, and she felt his body relax, returning her kiss. His hands caressed the nape of her neck, his rough fingers intertwined with her hair. They moved together, rising to their knees. She pulled away to catch her breath, opening her eyes to see his lustful stare. If he was surprised by her aggressiveness, he didn't show it. Damn him, she thought. Damn him for anticipating her every move. He pushed her hood back to see her face.
"Lass…" he sighed, his voice was hoarse. Her breathing grew heavier, as he traced his thumb over her bottom lip. He closed the gap between them again, pausing. His lips a breath away from hers. Then he kissed her. Softly, deeply, slowly. Her heart quickened its pace, as her eyes fluttered shut. Her shoulders relaxed, and she breathed him in. His tongue meeting hers, his strong hands resting on both of her cheeks, pulling her deeper into his body. He finally had her in his arms, both of their intentions clear. Her heart swelled, creating a tight coil that settled in the pit of her stomach. Her body responded to him, beginning to ache for his touch. She traced her fingertips down his chest, trying to feel each muscle beneath his stiff armor. His heart raced at her touch, forcing all the air from his lungs. He broke away from their kiss, before hungrily reaching for her hips and pulling her in for more. Her gloved hands gripped his trim waist, fumbled over his abs, over his dagger, his belt buckle…
Oh God, his belt buckle.
She pulled his hips towards hers and started tearing at the leather around his waist. Blind, never releasing his lips, feeling for the easiest way to get it off. Without warning , he froze, and shattered the building heat between their bodies. Her eyes shot open, causing her to jolt back into reality.
Too far? She thought, hoping she wasn't right. Her chest rose and fell in short breaths. His brow creased, cocking his head. Then raised a single finger to his lips.
"Shhh…" the thief hushed under his breath. She had forgotten what she should be listening for, when the distant sound of crunching gravel reached her ears. It was the sound of wagons approaching.
The convoy.
"Time for work." He growled, as a devilish grin crept over his once soft lips. Both her eyes and her shoulders dropped, as she tried not to show her hunger. Her mouth was dry and her voice hoarse, lips swollen. She could still feel the effects of their kiss lingering all over her body.
It was still far in the distance, traveling slowly down the road that led into a small valley. Perfect for their planned ambush. They resumed their position, resting on their stomachs near the top of the ridge, concealed in the bushes around them.
They watched the others get into position as the Imperial soldiers approached. Three men on horseback leading the way, four wagons with Imperial drivers, and five men on the ground. A dozen total. She shot a look at Brynjolf. Were they supposed to be outnumbered?
They waited in silence. Watching the Imperials take slow steps forward to meet their mark. They were close enough to hear the men's footsteps on the path when she heard it.
Behind them… coming from the south. A noise that she had become accustomed to hearing in her journey. A noise that now, rarely made her nervous…when she was alone. She reached out and grabbed Brynjolf's forearm, causing him to turn, quizzically trying to read the expression on her face. The hair stood up on the back of her neck.
Come on… not now.
"Get down!" She screamed, before the ear splitting roar reverberated off the walls of the valley. She dove on her partner as the dragon jetted over them, knocking them out of the way. She lay on top of him, looking at him eye to eye. Her thief was speechless. His eyes widened as she rose to her knees, drew her bow, and nocked an ebony arrow.
"Lass, wait. What do you think you're doing?" He reached out and grabbed her elbow, as she tried to stand.
"Stay here, and stay low. If it circles, shield yourself behind any rock you can." She commanded.
"Are you insane?!" He tightened his grip, and tried to pull her closer.
"Let go!" He froze, looking at her in disbelief. "Let go, Brynjolf!" She leaned into him, and shoved. Freeing herself, and knocking him back against the rock. He looked at her in shock, searching for an explanation.
He was right, she thought. They would all find out. Sooner than later. She set her sight on her target. Elder Dragon. Bronze scales, spade tail, wicked speed.
It made a tight circle in the north, then headed back toward the valley, looking to confront the convoy head on. She stood on the ridge and let her arrow fly, piercing the dragon in the neck. It hovered in front of the imperial soldiers. Plumes of dust rolled through the valley and clouded their vision. The horses whinnied as they spooked, throwing the men to the ground. Some drew their swords, others froze in their spot, awaiting their imminent death.
He stirred, refusing to hide, watching her draw another arrow and let it fly. She was fast, nocking another arrow before the last hit home. It also hit its target, but the dragon took no notice. It curved its neck, letting out another vicious scream before flames erupted out of its mouth and arced through the air. He felt the heat radiate through the gorge, he watched the men crumble and scream. Ash erupted into the sky, as the convoy started to blaze.
Holy Shit. He searched the opposite ridge for the rest of the guild members. He saw none… hopefully they had taken cover. She gave him a quick glance, and then she was gone. He watched her slide down the ridge towards the road, bow in one hand, and the other gloved hand providing drag as her boots scraped over the stones.
"Marin!" She heard him scream her name as she slid towards the road, his thick accent curling over the r. A smile crept on her face… she wasn't even sure he knew her name. He never used it, anyways. She turned to see him standing over the ridge, watching her every move.
She rolled and hit the ground running, watching the dragon circle again. Her fingers felt for another arrow, and she trained her eyes on the beast in the sky. She let three more fly before it saw her… recognizing her. It turned again and took a sharp dive, coming straight for her. She dove out of the way as fireballs flew out of its mouth, starting a grass fire on the side of the road. She rose on one knee, fingering another arrow and letting it fly, this time impaling its snout. Then five more, each hitting home.
This time the bastard landed, crashing in front of her. A large tremor shook the ground around her, causing the stones to rattle; a plume of dust billowed from around its massive body. The dragon lifted its head, and turned, deliberate. Looking deep into her eyes. It definitely recognized her. Its bright, eerie yellow eyes read her face…and she stared right back.
Brynjolf's eyes widened as he saw her pull the war axe from her hip, and ready her shield. The dragon reared back and let out an ear shattering scream. Then it lunged, snapping its jaws in an effort to end her. She blocked the attack, bashing her shield into its snout, and striking with the war axe. She landed blow after solid blow, burying the blade into the beast. Blood poured out of its wounds and pooled in the dirt below her. She was quick, dodging its attacks, then striking with more force than the last. A red mist enveloping her with each slice of her axe.
She let out a yell as she dashed toward the open jaws. He watched as she leapt, bringing the axe above her head, and burying the blade deep within the top of its skull.
He bolted down the valley wall, jumping over boulders, clumsily skidding on the loose rock. The dragon wavered, blindly snapping its jaws in one last effort to attack, pulling the axe out of her hand. She dove, rolling out of the way as the beast screeched, and collapsed on the road.
She casually stood and walked towards the Dragon, listening to the pop and hiss of the fire burning around her. Blood pooled around its body, staining the dirt. Its yellow eyes now agape, lifeless. She strode through the crimson pool that flowed from the dragon's corpse. Then using her boot to brace herself against the massive skull, she yanked on the axe with both hands, freeing it with a splatter of blood. She could hear Brynjolf coming… and was sure she would have plenty to explain. The others would arrive soon as well.
"What in the bloody hell, Lass?" Brynjolf panted as he reached the dirt road. She turned to face him, appearing through a thick cloud of dust and smoke. And though he wasn't close, he could see streaks of dragon blood as they dripped down her cheeks like dark tears. She calmly wiped the blade of the axe against the top of her thigh, cleaning off the glossy, excess blood before placing it on her hip once again.
He reached for an explanation of what he had just witnessed.
Like always, the wind picked up, circling around her. Tearing the dragon's soul from its body and leaving its dry bones behind. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, looking towards the heavens. The Dragonborn allowed the soul to fill her heart and mind, welcoming the rush as part of the dragon blazed through her arteries, and its vibrations resonated in her bones. In her mind she saw its life, and death. She felt its strength and power, all adding to her own.
When the wind died down, her eyes fluttered open and slowly found his. He stroked his beard, and swallowed hard, watching her intently, searching over her. She used the back of her glove to wipe the blood from her eyes, but refused to say a word. It seemed like an eternity before the thief spoke.
"So, this is what you are." He whispered in awe.
She stood in front of him covered in dirt and blood; the odor of dust and iron hung in the air around her. All too aware that the rest of the guild members had materialized on the dusty road. Despite her power, she felt vulnerable. Like a wound in the open air.
"You should be thanking me for saving your God damned lives." She growled, as she stomped past him, glaring as their eyes met.
Delvin finally broke the silence. "Is it just me, or was that the craziest bullshit you've ever seen?" The others were still speechless, frozen to their spots. "I guess we should search these poor smoldering bastards in order to salvage something from this… right Bryn?" He slapped him on the back and smiled, trying to force him from the reverie.
"Right…" He tried to focus but his mind was lost on her. He raked his hands through his red hair, and turned to the ridge. She had already disappeared over the top. "Why don't you handle it Delvin..."
"Sure, if that's what ya want…You alright buddy?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." He uttered as he turned away.
"Oh, and boss?" He froze.
"What." He responded coldly.
"Your belts undone."
He was right. She was a ghost, and after that comment he may never see her again. Whatever it was that they shared that afternoon… No. He wasn't ready to let her go. He couldn't let that happen. He galloped through the forest, weaving in and out of trees, and over embankments. He shouldn't be that far behind her…
As he approached the empty camp he slowed his speed, looking for any sign of her. If he was lucky, she would have stopped just long enough to gather the rest of her belongings before disappearing again. Her horse was tied nearby, but still no sign of her. His feet quietly hit the ground, as he left his saddle.
As he approached her tent, he saw her, back to him, packing a large bag.
"Going somewhere, Dragonborn?" She froze.
"I figured you wouldn't be far behind me…" the words dropped coldly out of her mouth, as she turned around to face him. Her face still streaked with dragon blood, now dried.
"I must admit, that was one hell of a secret…" He flashed that brilliant smile as he approached her. "I don't know how I didn't see it before, Lass. It all makes sense now." She tensed as he came closer. Her energy seemed to change, she was now on edge in his presence.
"I don't belong here." She didn't flinch. "Get out of here, before I kill you."
"You belong here more than you know, Lass." He closed the distance between them, reaching out for her. Her heart welled as his thumb caressed her bloodstained cheek.
He leaned in to kiss her, only stopping when he noticed the cold sensation of steel flush against his throat.
"I must not have been clear." Her eyes seemed empty.
He chuckled… "And I thought the only thing I needed to be worried about was that war axe in the corner." She held her dagger to his throat, ready to apply pressure if needed.
"No…you were right. This is what I am, and I am meant to be alone."
"I deserve that I guess…" He smirked.
"You deserve a lot more, thief." She applied pressure to the blade, just to remind him who was in control.
"Maybe, Lass. But I do know one thing." His emerald eyes sparkled.
"And that is?" Her voice was thick.
"I'm not going to let you push me away, Marin." He moved closer to her, pressing his neck into her knife, calling her bluff. His eyes shined.
She faltered, as she noticed his blood dripping from around her blade. He gritted his teeth as he moved further still. His eyes brimmed with longing as he gripped her wrist. He fought with her, forcing the dagger to her side… and as his lips met hers, it fell to the dirt floor, with a solid thud.