Kaelyn yawned as she descended the ladder, and almost fell when her cloak got under her foot. She yanked it back into place and jumped the rest of the way down with a half-hearted curse.
"Hello, my sister in crime." Kaelyn turned to see Rune, who was still up, twiddling his namesake in his hands.
"Hey. Still up?" Kaelyn replied, and nodded at him. He just shrugged and Kaelyn headed past him without pressing for more.
She could understand wanting to know where you come from—she herself had never known her parents. Still, she felt that the here and now was more important, and it bothered her still less now that she'd found a home in the Thieves' Guild.
Now that I've somehow become the leader of the Thieves' Guild, she corrected herself wryly before going through the motions of getting ready for bed. She chose her bed (she always got the one on the left), dumped her pack and gear into the nearest chest, and slapped her special lock on it: it didn't do to be incautious in the midst of a bunch of thieves, even if they were her new family.
Sure, none of them would want to steal anything important, but if she had a septim for every time someone's underwear was found on display in the Ragged Flagon… or when someone stole Vekel's broom and returned it covered in sticky sap so it stuck to his hands… or that one time Vex and Dirge had gotten locked in the closet, and the handle fell off so no one could pick it, and then they found mistletoe in there. Delvin and Brynjolf were falling over laughing, and Vex was mad as a spitting cat, and no one had ever found out that Kaelyn had done it.
Anyway, she had specially made this lock (she was a fair hand with a hammer) to not only be difficult to open, but so that whoever tried to pick it got a nice splash of almost-permanent dye. Red dye, so she could have the inordinate pleasure of catching someone "red handed." She grinned at the thought and yawned again before falling into bed. She was asleep before she hit the pillow.
In the morning, she got all her gear back into place and headed into the Ragged Flagon, pleased to find she hadn't overslept. She hated when she did that, it always made her feel fuzzy for the rest of the day.
Her Nightingale cloak swished satisfyingly as she slipped through the door to the Flagon, and she twisted her hair up out of her face as she went. She resettled her sword belt and walked through the passage.
"Ah, you're back, lass," Delvin greeted her with an upraised tankard, "Sit down and have a drink with me."
"At this hour?" Kaelyn eyed him skeptically, "I'd rather have breakfast." She pulled a chair out and nodded at Vekel, who slapped down a bowl of leftover soup in front of her before going over to flirt with Tonilia. Kaelyn waved at her and yawned before sitting down and starting to eat.
"Late night, lass?" Delvin suggested wickedly and took a swig.
"Yeah—getting those numbers fixed for you," Kaelyn replied pointedly after swallowing her first spoonful.
"Oh, come on, it was just a numbers job, in and out. But when are you going to go and get yourself a man?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"It was just a numbers job—until the shopkeeper started shadowing me, so I had to leave and climb back in through the second story window, then do the numbers, and then had to hide under the bed for a few hours when the shopkeeper and her lover stumbled in as I was finishing up." Rant over, she continued eating.
"And they didn't see you?" Devlin let out a low, appreciative whistle. "But that's all the action you'll ever see, at this rate. You're evading my question." He took another swig of whatever he had.
"I'm not looking for action," Kaelyn hissed, jabbing her spoon in his direction, but Delvin was unmoved.
"It can't be from lack of volunteers—are you scaring them off, lass? 'Cause even with that armor on—well especially with that armor on, really—" He was interrupted, much to Kaelyn's initial relief, by the sound of the door to the Cistern opening.
"'Morning, Brynjolf," Delvin hailed, and Kaelyn's head snapped around. "Yes, good morning," Brynjolf replied distractedly without looking up from where he was tying on his greaves.
"Good morning," Kaelyn finally added, and Brynjolf snapped his head up just as she had. "Ah, yes, well, sorry lass, I've got a lot of business right now, we'll talk later," he hurriedly replied, snagged a loaf of bread, tossed a coin to Vekel, and almost jogged out the other door.
Suddenly not so hungry, Kaelyn pushed her bowl away and rested her head in her hands, rubbing at her eyes as if she had a headache. "It's not fair, Del," she muttered darkly, voice slightly muffled by her hands.
He, too, set down his breakfast of choice and leaned forward. "What's going on with you two? I haven't seen Brynjolf that nattered since—" he broke off, but Kaelyn didn't notice, just picked up her head and glared.
"You're asking me? I haven't done anything! Ever since Mercer, he's been refusing to talk to me, avoiding me, and I'm sick of it." She leaned back and folded her arms, looking dangerous, before continuing in a lower voice, "I didn't ask to be made Guildmaster—he did that! And it doesn't seem to bother anyone else—Dirge even keeps threatening me."
"That can't be why he's… hesitant, surely," Devlin tapped the table thoughtfully.
"Hesitant?" Kaelyn snorted at the understatement, but let it pass. "What else could it be? Nothing else has changed."
Delvin gulped down the rest of his tankard before answering. "I'll tell you what you ought to do. You should ask him yourself."
Kaelyn's eyes flashed and her dagger slammed into the table quicker than anyone could see her take it out. "You don't think I'd like to? He's not speaking to me, Del, that's the problem!"
She was yelling now, and everyone except Delvin was carefully looking away from her and her dagger. He snatched it out of the wood as quickly as it had been stuck there and casually turned it over in his hands.
"See, now, it seems to me," he said gently, without looking up, "That a lass with a temper like that, and a dagger like this—new, isn't it? Ebony?—could talk to anyone she likes." He began polishing it with his sleeve.
"Give it back," Kaelyn grumped, slightly mollified.
Delvin stood to hand it back, and leaned in to whisper in her ear: "Talk to him, or I'll tell Vex who played that lovely little trick on her a week or two back."
Kaelyn took the dagger and looked up into a grinning face. "You're evil," she informed it. "How did you know?"
Delvin shrugged, "You're the only one clever enough to have that lock fall off when picked, and I happen to know you're not all that fond of Dirge or Vex… simple enough."
Kaelyn sheathed the dagger and smiled reluctantly back. "I hate you."
"I love you too, sister," Delvin replied smugly and sauntered away.
"Wait, Delvin—sure you didn't want any more apple juice?" she snickered, waggling the tankard at him. Vekel had told her that trick of Delvin's, and Kaelyn was delighted to have new ammunition.
"Oh, you just wait until tonight missy, and I'll drink you under the table," came the fading response as Delvin kept walking towards the training room for his morning exercises.
After watching him go, Kaelyn paid Vekel for breakfast, fenced some stuff with Tonilia, and headed out of the Flagon into Riften to go off on her shill assignment.
All the way to Windhelm, Kaelyn thought about what Delvin had said. It was true that she wanted the truth from Brynjolf—would taking a more aggressive approach be helpful?
It's not like waiting for him to talk to me has worked, Kaelyn though wryly, If anything, he keeps drawing further and further away.
Kaelyn didn't want to lose who she had considered to be her best friend, and was willing to take a more direct role in changing things. Even a thief can't slither out of things forever, she decided, and she didn't know whether she meant Brynjolf or herself.
After a few hours of traveling, she pulled up her dark mare by the city stables. She didn't leave it there, of course, that would be bad form. She made it comfortable outside the city wall and made her way to her target.
She picked the lock of the front door without breaking a lockpick, and slipped inside the house without a noise. Pleased with herself, she began looking around for an appropriate chest to "store" the stolen ruby in her pocket. She decided upstairs was the best bet, and crept past someone sleeping downstairs.
The stairs didn't even creak as she snuck up them, and she saw a chest at the head of them that would be perfect. Still silently, Kaelyn opened it and placed the ill-gotten ruby inside.
Now the only thing to do was get back out of the house. She loved shill jobs, and was smiling as she turned around and saw…
Brynjolf.
What. Was. He. Doing. Here?!
He saw her just a second later and froze, carrying a jeweled candlestick. There was a brief comical moment of frantic gestures, Kaelyn's angry and demanding, Brynjolf's confused, before they moved close enough to whisper furiously.
"What are you doing here?" Kaelyn hissed, "I was just assigned a job here!"
"Well, I didn't know that, I was just trying to pick up something for the guild—"
"Wait, let me guess, 'important business to attend to?'" Kaelyn broke in bitterly. "And now we have two thieves in the same house, which, let me remind you, is against guild protocol."
"I know guild protocol, lass," Brynjolf rejoined, getting angry, "If you'll recall, I was there when you were a mere footpad."
"Yeah? Well, you seem to be around a lot less now that I'm actually succeeding," Kaelyn's voice dropped to a lower intensity. "Why, Brynjolf? Why have you been avoiding me?" As she looked him in the eye, Brynjolf hesitated.
Before he could respond, a noise came from downstairs—the front door opening. The experienced thieves parted immediately, Kaelyn ducking into the shadows behind the chest, Brynjolf fading into another room out of Kaelyn's sight.
Low voices sounded downstairs, and a Windhelm guard came into Kaelyn's view as he came up the stairs. Kaelyn started a stream of curses in her head. Obviously she and Brynjolf had not been quiet enough in their exchange. Still, the woman downstairs must be a remarkably light sleeper.
Well, there was nothing to do now but wait, and Kaelyn was confident enough in her skills to still nervous fidgets and remain completely still as the guard ascended the stairs, weapon out, and stepped past her. She watched as he did the typical room sweep, and tensed as he entered the room Brynjolf had hid in.
"You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people. What have you to say for yourself?"
Kaelyn's mental stream of curses increased in intensity as Brynjolf exited the room at sword point.
"Come now, my good man, what crime have I committed?" Brynjolf was trying to brazen his way through it, with his hands up and his innocent face on.
Kaelyn shook her head and started to emerge from her hiding place. She was going to have to find them a way out of this, quickly, or it was going to reflect very badly on the guild. She was just glad that the guard's back was towards her, dealing with Brynjolf's stalling.
"Trespassing, for one," the guard retorted, "And I'm sure when I get you to the guard house we'll find any number of ill-gotten goods on your person."
Brynjolf's eyes widened when he saw Kaelyn coming up behind the guard but turned it into a look of injured surprise for the guard's benefit. "And… why would you assume that?"
The guard snorted. "I wasn't born yesterday. I know Thieves' Guild armor when I see it. Now start moving."
Kaelyn expertly moved behind the guard as he turned to go downstairs and then slipped behind Brynjolf too, using him as cover and then reaching under his cloak. Moving gently and matching the movement of his body, she slipped the candlestick from his favorite pocket and into hers, then executed a silent roll forward into a side room.
Taking a quiet sigh, she couldn't keep the relieved grin off her face as she dropped out the window and casually began to tail Brynjolf and his new friend, the guard. The thrill of a job only increased when you snatched success out of the jaws of disaster, and now she would get to watch Brynjolf squirm. What a tale this would be for the rest of the Guild!
"Look, I'm with the guild. Will this pay off my bounty?" Brynjolf was getting just a little desperate now. He knew how this would look, and he hadn't felt Kaelyn take the evidence off him, thanks to her improving pickpocket skills.
Kaelyn shook her head—clearly, this guard was not the type to be bribed or gainsaid, and Brynjolf should have known that before trying to take that angle. Not to mention that Windhelm just happened to be the last city without a strong Guild influence. Brynjolf had been distracted lately, and it wasn't working in his favor. Why doesn't he just tell me what I'm doing wrong? What's bothering him? Kaelyn wondered for the millionth time.
Knowing where they must be heading, she abandoned Brynjolf and the guard to take a shortcut to the Jarl's palace, perching on a stone protrusion just outside the Palace courtyard. She wrapped herself warmly in her cloak and waited for Brynjolf.
Without stolen goods to confiscate and identify, and with such a small bounty, Brynjolf was out of custody within the hour, and emerged from the courtyard gate looking thoughtful.
Kaelyn dropped off her perch and approached him, and saw him tense up in her presence, as was his habit lately. "Well?" she said smugly.
"Well, what?" he said, still tense.
"Well, are you going to thank me for saving your tail and the Guild's honor or what?"
Brynjolf relaxed a bit and started to chuckle. "Lass, that was you? Namira's teeth, I don't think I've ever been in a tighter spot, and then when the guard patted me down and didn't find a thing, I don't think he was any more surprised than I." He started to really laugh, now, and Kaelyn joined him as they fell into step walking towards the city gate.
"You don't think I saw you trying to sweet talk him all the back to the guardhouse?" Kaelyn teased, "If I didn't know better, I'd be jealous."
Brynjolf looked at her sharply, and Kaelyn felt warmth coming to her face. She felt glad it was getting dark, and quickly changed the subject. "And your face when I was sneaking up behind the guard… priceless! Unlike this beauty." She pulled out the candlestick triumphantly.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm just glad you didn't see my face when I realized you had lifted it off me," Brynjolf said, and made a grab for his prize that Kaelyn easily evaded.
"Pure gratitude, I'm sure? Perhaps a bit of hero worship?" Kaelyn loftily inquired, making a show of inspecting the candlestick.
"Something like that," Brynjolf rolled his eyes and snatched the candlestick. This time Kaelyn let him take it, and he stashed it away as they came into the view of the guards at the city gate. The guards nodded as they passed, and closed the gate behind them.
A few paces further, and they stopped to look at each other. "My horse is that way…" Brynjolf started, and stopped when Kaelyn shook her head emphatically.
"Oh, no. I need answers from you, and I'll be getting them now." She reached out and took firm hold of his forearm, as if worried he would make a run for it. Which was tempting, when Brynjolf thought of it.
Brynjolf sighed uncomfortably and took a few halted steps in the direction she was tugging him. "Lass, do you think—"
"Kaelyn!" she interrupted with a dangerous look. "That's my name, and you're welcome to it. I've not grown fond of this 'lass' business since you've started to use it when you're trying to brush me off."
Brynjolf was taken aback. "I'm not trying to brush you off, la—Kaelyn."
"Well, then here's your opportunity to explain just what it is you've been trying to do," Kaelyn retorted and stubbornly dragged him to a stand of trees, feet crunching in the snow. When they got there, she turned to him, taking down her Nightingale hood to better face him.
Seeing her face better, and her hair in the moonlight, Brynjolf deeply felt why he didn't want to talk about this and turned his face away in discomfort. "I haven't been brushing you off—I've just been busy lately."
Kaelyn huffed in hurt. "Yes, busy every time I come into the room. Unable to talk to anyone—anyone meaning me. You've been avoiding me, leaving the room once I enter it, not speaking more than one sentence to me—one that I can repeat by heart now. 'Sorry lass, I've got important things to do. We'll speak another time.'"
"No, I just—" Brynjolf attempted.
"Yes," Kaelyn asserted emphatically. "What happened, Bryn? You were the one who brought me into the guild, you were the one to give me my first job, you were the first one to believe me about Karliah and Mercer. In Irkngthand, you saved my life, and I saved yours." Her voice got quieter, and it was her turn to turn her face away. "I thought we were friends, Bryn."
Brynjolf's heart twisted guiltily and he started to stammer, not knowing what to say, just knowing he needed to talk. "I–we are… friends," he started awkwardly, "And I don't know… the guild has been busy lately, and…"
He trailed off as Kaelyn turned on him yet again, this time not frustrated, not hurt, just angry.
"Brynjolf, you weren't too busy to come on this ridiculous unscheduled burglary, you weren't too busy to have been brushing up on your archery of all things yesterday, " she slowly advanced on him and he backed up a step as she approached, "You haven't been too busy to chat with Delvin, or Vex, or Vekel, or Tonilia, or anyone else in the guild. Don't lie to me Brynjolf. It may succeed with marks and the law, but I know you too well."
Kaelyn had gotten a fist on Brynjolf's chest and now she shoved him back a foot into a convenient tree, eyes flashing, daring him to retaliate, as spitting mad as she ever was when her temper was up, and what a temper it was.
Brynjolf had a temper of his own, though, and it was starting to rise. "Don't touch me like that again," he snapped right back, snatching her wrist off his chest and holding on to push her back a few inches. He leaned forward to tower over her, his eyes kindled with a blaze of their own.
"Why not?" she replied, still mad, more softly, more intensely. They were staring into each other's eyes now, looking like a polecat and a bear standing off, the tension palpable.
And Brynjolf kissed her.
It was rough with their tempers at first, but soon that power was refined into a warm rhythm. Brynjolf pulled at her wrist to bring her closer, brought his other hand up to cup her face, to cup the back of her head, to bring her closer, closer. He felt like a poor man touching gold, like a thief in a treasure room.
Kaelyn didn't know when one passion had turned to another, didn't know what to do with her other hand until it found a place in his belt, pulling him closer, closer. She did know that his gasp when her hand wiggled for a better position there matched her shiver when his cool hand moved down the back of her neck into her armor, and somehow made her hotter.
And then the rhythm froze, the hand was extricated, and Kaelyn became aware that she had neither started nor stopped the kiss. Brynjolf dropped her wrist and grasped the other, to pull it from his belt and step back.
"Because," he said huskily, eyes burnt down to a smolder, answering a question she had forgotten, "I don't want to be friends."
And then he was gone, as fast as a burglar, leaving Kaelyn to wonder just what he had stolen.
She waited a moment, feeling the moonlight like a touch on her skin, and then she was gone too, leaving the copse of trees as peaceful as they had been before any human entered them.
Kaelyn's horse neighed softly in greeting as she approached it, and she drew near enough to rest her head on its neck for a moment, soaking in simple affection. Then she drew back and swiftly mounted, digging her heels in for a slow trot back to Riften.
"It'll be another late night, eh girl?" she remarked softly, as though this night was anything like the last, and she and the horse, both black, faded into the shadows of the growing night.
The next morning, Kaelyn again slumped into a chair across from Delvin, this time quiet enough in her approach for him not to notice her until the last second. He raised his eyebrow at this. Reverting to, well, stealth mode was a tell of stress, and in combination with her continued silence made him want to walk carefully.
"Good morning, lass," he offered, and sipped his drink without looking away from her.
"Don't–" she said sharply, and then sighed. "Don't call me that, Del." She scrubbed a hand over her face. "Sorry, it was another late night."
"Eh, I've got a thick skin," Delvin brushed it off. "Another late night, hmm? Botch another job?"
Kaelyn looked up to protest, then grinned weakly when she saw Delvin hiding a smile. "You know I don't botch jobs, Del, but I do have quite the tale to tell–you'll enjoy this."
She proceeded to tell her yarn, relaxing more and more to Delvin's approval, and by the time she got to describe Brynjolf's face after custody they were both laughing loud enough to annoy Vex.
"And that's all that happened, is it?" Delvin inquired shrewdly after they'd had their fun.
Kaelyn gave a half-hearted scoff. "Yes, and it was quite enough for a day's work, thank you." Delvin regarded her for a moment and then sat back, content not to push.
"Well, I've got another job for you, if you'll have it," he said,
"Yeah, I'll take it-I have itchy fingers today, for some reason," Kaelyn nodded and leaned forward. "Got a fishing job for me?"
"Sure, sure," Delvin yawned casually and handed her a sheet of paper with the details. He watched her quickly slink out of the Ragged Flagon, silently again, and in the direction of the tunnels, not the cistern.
When he was sure she was gone, he quickly stood up and headed for the training room, coins for Vekel already on the table.
Delvin stepped into the training room, and looked around. There was Brynjolf, sitting in front of the Master chest, a few broken lockpicks on the floor around him. Delvin casually walked past him to the training mats, starting a morning stretch.
"It's no use, Del, I know you came in to talk to me," Brynjolf said shortly after a moment, without looking away from his task.
Delvin stopped in surprise, then chuckled good naturedly. "You caught me, mate." Giving up his semblance of exercise, he strolled over to the chests and sat on the Novice one. "Well, have out with it."
"Out with what?" Brynjolf was terse again, but his fingers slipped and the lockpick broke. He let out a dull curse, got out a new one, and kept going.
"Mate, you know why I'm here. It's about Kaelyn, o' course." Delvin watched as Brynjolf 's lockpick broke again at the sound of that name. "No, you needn't get out another–you know as well as I do that you'll just waste lockpicks even on the Novice while we speak of her."
"Get off of it and we'll see," growled Brynjolf, but he didn't take out another lockpick, and Delvin just smirked and waited for a moment.
"She thought for a while that you were ignoring her because she was just about guild master, you know," Delvin remarked.
Brynjolf looked up for the first time. "But you didn't." It wasn't a question.
"No. I didn't. I knew a certain lad when he was all starry-eyed 'bout half the time, with one girl or another, and always the girl he paid the least attention to."
"But you didn't tell her."
Delvin sighed and shifted on the chest. "No, I didn't tell her. I just told her to ask you." He shook his head. "She was violent mad about it though. You shook her up. That lass can tell when something's being hid from her, with her heart when not her head."
Brynjolf turned to lean up against the master chest. "It's part of what makes her a great thief."
"Oh, stop avoiding the question," said Delvin.
"I didn't hear any question," Brynjolf retorted, smirking just a little.
"Alright, I'll come out an' say it: what happened last night? And don't you give me none of the burglary part, I've already got that bit. Give me what came after."
Brynjolf 's half-smirk immediately dropped off his face. "Why, what did she say?"
"Oh, she told me naught– much like a certain other friend has been doing, as of late," Delvin said mildly. "You've got it bad, eh?"
Brynjolf sighed. "Yeah, I've got it bad. I'm sorry about that."
"That's alright, now tell me what happened last night." Delvin leaned forward when Brynjolf, scrubbing his face with his hand, didn't respond. "That bad, eh? Did she talk to you, like I suggested?"
Brynjolf blasted a sound of amusement. "You could say that. One minute she's getting me out of a sticky situation, then she's playful as a cat on catnip, then she's acting hurt, and then she's spitting mad, pushing me into a tree." He gestured disbelievingly.
"She does have a temper, that one," Delvin remarked. "And then?"
"Well, then I started getting angry myself, and…" Brynjolf hesitated, a look of extreme reluctance on his face.
"Did you hit her?" Delvin exclaimed, alarmed, and Brynjolf immediately looked shocked and offended.
"No, of course not! I…" he shrugged. "I kissed her."
Delvin laughed long and hard, to Brynjolf's displeasure. "I'm sorry mate, you just looked that guilty, and I just wondered…"
Brynjolf shook his head, disgusted, and rose. "Well, I'm glad you've been entertained," he said a little bitterly, and turned to go find sanctuary in some other place.
"No! Wait!" Delvin called him back, standing up himself. "So far, so good. Then what?"
"Then, I… realized what I'd done, pulled away, told her I didn't want to be friends, and left." Delvin looked thoughtful and nodded, without saying anything. Brynjolf pressed him. "Why? What did she look like this morning?"
Delvin looked at him for a moment and then shrugged. "Not half shook up, mate, but now I'm thinking that's in a good way."
Brynjolf began pacing in a tight pattern. "Since when is 'shook up' a good thing?" he asked, voice tight and incredulous. "Why am I such an idiot? Going and doing a thing like that all of a sudden–" he stopped and suddenly looked at Delvin again. "Del, tell me what to do. I don't want to hurt her, that's the last thing I want, but I just can't be friends with her–I can't be just friends with her–you know what I mean."
"You want her," Delvin said softly.
"More than I've ever wanted anything," Brynjolf replied in the same tone. "Del–I think I love her."
Delvin let out all his breath. "Well, I don't know if I'd break out that particular phrase in conversation with her just yet, but I'll give you the same advice I gave her: talk to her. Let her know how you feel."
"I'm no good at talking, Del, you know that, especially about how I feel–and anyway, she has no reason to feel anywhere near the same way."
"If you really love her, Brynjolf, you're going to have to talk. And as for her affections–she wasn't the one to break off the kiss, now was she? And that's more of a hint I'm giving to you than I ever gave to her, so you just get your butt in gear and talk to the lass."
"She doesn't want to be called that anymore," Brynjolf said dully.
"Aye, that's right, I'd forgotten. Keep this up and you'll be as observant as me." Delvin slapped Brynjolf on the shoulder encouragingly and left the room.
Brynjolf let out a long sigh and sat back down to work on the Master chest. Two more lockpicks and it was open.
Lockpicks, gold, a necklace, some dwarven weapon or other. He took everything but the dwarven gimmick and closed the chest again with a bang.
Brynjolf spent a late night waiting up for her, but she never came. He ignored a sympathetic look from Delvin when he finally tumbled into bed.
Kaelyn happened to be spending the night in jail.
Kaelyn woke up at dawn, if her internal clock was accurate enough. There were no windows in her cell to tell her if she was right or not, but she trusted her gut enough to put her plan into action.
She could almost hear Delvin now: Only you, girl, would purposefully get pushed in the slammer just so you could try and get yourself out of it as well. She grinned as she got out the one lockpick she'd been able to keep with her and very carefully started on the cell lock.
Third test of the pick, and the lock was open. Kaelyn breathed a thank-you to Nocturnal and started towards the chest of her belongings, crouching low in case any guards appeared. This one was trickier, somehow, and took four tries and a very stressed lockpick before it opened for her.
Kaelyn kissed the lockpick that had done so well for her and tucked it behind her ear as she quickly donned and packed all her gear in the easy manner of long habit. Then she fed it back into her braid and slunk to the doorway, listening closely.
Was that–snoring? Kaelyn almost laughed when she realized the guard was asleep, but restrained herself. Surely it wasn't supposed to be this easy? Kaelyn stopped being amused as she pondered the possibility of a trap or the like, but then realized she was a master thief after all, she just didn't usually risk herself in situations that tested her full abilities.
So why was she doing so now? It was a question that Kaelyn didn't really want to think about, but one that couldn't be avoided, even when cunningly distracting yourself with a jail break. She started in on it as she silently crossed the cobblestone floor to the door.
Brynjolf. He had kissed her. Why? Did he genuinely… admire her, or was he just looking for someone to bed? Thinking of the latter option made her feel sick to the stomach, and didn't seem to fit in with what she knew of him, but somehow right now it seemed like a bigger risk to discount that option than it had been to get herself thrown in jail.
Again, why? She liked him, Kaelyn finally admitted to herself, as she oiled the door hinge to prevent any creaking. She liked him a lot. So much, in fact, that she had never admitted to herself why she was so extremely hurt by his recent reticence, so much that she had focused strongly on this idea of friendship just to stop herself from hoping. Brynjolf wasn't her best friend, really, that was Delvin's role. So what did that leave for Bryn?
My heart, she realized ruefully, That's what he stole with that kiss. Ugh, the thought was so clichéd, and Kaelyn found herself shaking her head at her silliness as she opened the door, slipped out into the early morning, and closed it behind her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh crisp air, feeling more certain of herself than she had for the past two weeks or so. She hated it when people hid things from her, even when it was herself hiding something from herself.
That's not to say she wouldn't hide things from others, though, and she was contemplating what she would do about her new-found feelings when she opened her eyes and saw Brynjolf standing and watching her.
He was still riding the spur-of-the-moment confidence that had gotten him out of bed and looking for her before the sun had even come up, and he walked right up to her, tried to look into eyes that could not quite meet his. "You didn't come home last night. I was worried about you."
Kaelyn reached up, about to touch his chest, or his hand, but then let it drop back to her side. "I'm sorry. I…" She looked up sheepishly, "I wanted to see if I could break out of prison."
Brynjolf laughed once. "And succeeded, I see. I wouldn't have expected any less of you." He took her hand and began to briskly lead them out of the city, and Kaelyn let her fingers tighten around his.
Was this gentle, sure person the same man who had hemmed and hawed and kissed her passionately? The same one who she'd once seen giggling like a little boy because he'd stolen the pair of earrings someone had been shamelessly bragging about?
Yes. And that was why she loved him. He was as changeable as she.
They walked through the city gate with remarkably little effort, considering she should've been in jail, and got all the way across the drawbridge before Brynjolf felt his wave of courage begin to crest.
"Kaelyn," he quickly said, before it could leave him altogether, "I need to tell you something."
She looked up quickly and nodded. "All right. What is it?"
He kept walking, bringing them off the road and by the river, trying to compose his thoughts and grasping at confidence that seemed to be slipping through his fingers like water.
"I…" he started.
"Yes?" Kaelyn began smiling.
"Well, I…" He couldn't seem to continue.
"You," Kaelyn confirmed, and put her hand on his chest, now grinning.
"That–is really distracting," Brynjolf sighed and took that hand in his, his warm and calloused hand making Kaelyn shiver just a little.
"Really? And how about this?" Kaelyn reached up with her other hand and tucked it into the back of Brynjolf's cloak.
Brynjolf just looked at her for a moment, and then began taking steps toward her, forcing her to step back with him. "Would I be right in assuming, lass," he said in a low, rough voice that made Kaelyn shiver again, "That you are trying to distract me?"
Kaelyn laughed breathlessly, still being forced backwards, "Now why would I do that?" Her back suddenly hit the stones of the city wall, and she looked up at Bryjnolf with wide eyes.
He was closer than ever, and dropped her hand, putting his on either side of her head, trapping her in. "Why don't you tell me?" he said, and then he kissed her, slipping a hand behind her head to cushion it from the stone, pressing her against it with his body.
He was so much more sure of himself, Kaelyn thought wildly, as Brynjolf deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth, hips flush against hers. The contrast between his warm body and the cold wall was dizzying.
Her hands found their previous places, one under his collar and one in his belt, and worked their way further and further in. Kaelyn could hear Brynjolf's inhalations at each movement. Suddenly he took them both and held them above her head against the wall, simultaneously deepening the kiss.
Feeling pinned, and not sure if she should like it as much as she did (she was a thief, after all) Kaelyn wriggled her hips against him, and was immensely pleased with Brynjolf's immediate hiss. She did it again and he let out a moan, releasing her lips to explore her neck with his.
"Lass, have pity on a poor man," he panted on her skin, nipping playfully between words.
"Without my hands, I have to work with something," she replied as innocently as possible. She languidly draped a flexible leg around his waist, drawing him yet closer, and turned her head to bite down on his ear.
He went completely still, quivering, before grinding his hips into hers with new ardor and letting his free hand grasp freely at her curves. As she gasped, he muttered into her ear, "You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?"
Her face nuzzled into his neck in a way oddly arousing and endearing. "I'm going to be the best thing that ever happened to you."
He nodded enthusiastically as her hands worked free.