Another day, another round of pockets picked, safes cracked and homes looted. In a few hours I can add up the numbers, hunt down Bryn or Del and put part of the haul in the Vault, then maybe for once I can relax with a bottle of mead. Shadows know I deserve it with all the work I do. What I wouldn't give for a back rub though- hunching over this table is murder on my posture. Maybe I can haggle one out of Brynjolf, gods know he's been wanting a chance to ogle me up close for months now.
"Lass?"
A slight smirk graces the young woman's face as she sends up a mental thank you to the Guild's Patron for perfect timing. Icy orbs peer up from the ledger on the desk in the cistern, hidden behind shaggy straw colored locks. "Evenin' Bryn. How can I help?"
A bare hand holds out a letter to the man's Guild Master, a warm smile on her fellow Nord's face though she could detect a bit of weariness in his vibrant forest orbs. "Was closin' up the stall when a courier came into Riften lookin' for ya. Told him I'd pass the message on."
"Told him nicely, or was there a slight threat as well?" Katryn asks as she takes the offered parchment sealed with black wax, knowing full well the couriers never like giving mail to those whose names were not on the message.
"Ye wound me, Lass," her Second goes, putting his hand over his heart with an exaggerated pained expression on his face. "Though… I might have relieved him of a few odds and ends in the process," he adds, twirling a small ring around the fingers of his free hand. The silver of the piece of jewelry glints in the torchlight with a flash of red periodically catching her eye.
"I wound you, hah. I think the only blows I ever land on you are the ones to your ego. Nevertheless, don't change, Bryn. Nocturnal only knows how I would get through the day if you ever became boring." A soft chuckle escapes her mouth as the Guild Master breaks the seal and unfolds the message:
Hjerim.
20 Frostfall.
Don't be late.
That's only three days from now… A pensive look crosses her face as she sets the page to flame, then lets it burn to ash in a dish. "Del and Vex in?" A nod is her only response. "I'm being summoned away from the Guild. I'm not sure how long, probably a few days at most. I'll grab a job or two from them to take care of while I'm away from the Cistern. I trust I can leave you in charge and not find our Hall destroyed nor her occupants arrested while I'm gone?"
"So long as you promise to be careful, Lass." Brynjolf reaches over the table and softly presses his fingers over her mouth when Kat goes to speak, silencing her. "I know, Katryn- yes, you're capable of takin' care of yourself. Yes, you defeated dragons and priests, bandits, Legionnaires and cultists and beat Daedric princes at their own game. Yes, you're the favored of Nocturnal with the uncanniest of luck. But you're also mortal, Dragonborn though you may be. We almost lost you once before, we don't want to have to deal with that again." I don't want to have to deal with that again. It hurt so much, Mercer telling me you were dead. I should have fought him before you both left for Snow Veil Sanctum, should have demanded I go with you. Gods, I didn't know how the Guild...how I was going to continue on without you.
The woman scowls against the hand covering her mouth- the conversation that she and her Second constantly had whenever she would disappear for a few days. She lightly bites at the warm digits- not hard to break skin, but deep enough to convince him to pull back slightly. "To the Void with this- I am not having the same argument with you again, Brynjolf and stop trying to top from the bottom. If you want to be the bloody Guild Master, just say so and I will gladly hand it all over and walk. In fact, I might just do that anyways- Nocturnal knows I miss the days when I didn't have to do all this godsforsaken paperwork and I could just steal. What's the point of having a Second if he won't bloody help with my work burden?"
"You don't mean that Lass. This place is as much a part of you as it is me. We live and breathe this place." he growls out, barely audible under the sounds of water and crackling flames. "Besides, I'm not your Housecarl. I'm not sworn to carry your burdens. You want someone to do that for you, have Lydia take care of it. The Lady knows she whines about that little detail often enough."
A thin eyebrow arches dangerously high as if to wordlessly say Want to bet on that? When he doesn't take the bait to the offered challenge, a toothy grin breaks across her face. "I thought so. I will see you when I return Bryn. Don't run the Guild into the ground, please; you know we're still trying to undo Mercer's mess." She makes her way over to the other side of the desk, pausing next to her Second as if a thought occurred to her. Fingers, calloused from manipulating picks in locks but having the lightest of touches from lifting from pockets, reach up and brush down the coarse facial hairs on the man's cheek and over cracked lips. "Keep working at that, puppy. You never know, might get me to bare my neck in submission eventually...especially if you stop fucking everything with tits and a vagina. Remember what I've told you many a time, I'm not going to let you under my bed furs for a one time meaningless fuck. You want that, go to any of the numerous women you've seduced with your honeyed words and fuck one of them."
"Trying to make an honest man out of me, Kat?"
The flaxen haired woman snorts in amusement. "Hardly. We're thieves- we don't do honest. An honest lover on the other hand, perhaps. I want someone who is going to satisfy my needs only- and I mean all my needs. Personally, I don't think you could last keeping it in your pants long enough to convince me that your whore hunting days are over. Old habits die hard and all that."
Sharp ivories nip at the younger woman's rough digits as normally mirth filled emeralds darken at the prospect of proving her wrong. "Your challenge's accepted Lass. I look forward to not only proving you wrong, but also claiming my prize, over and over and tending to both our needs. Starting with you bent over this table," Brynjolf adds, tapping the piece of furniture holding the Guild's ledger emphatically. "Then probably on top of Vekel's bar, the entrance in the graveyard... Do you think Arnskar would have a problem if we borrowed his workbench?"
"Promises, promises. I'll believe your sincerity when I see it," the Nord female goes with a chuckle. "Shadows hide you, Bryn."
The auburn haired man takes Katryn's hand in his and places the questionably acquired ring in her upturned palm, then closes her long fingers over the piece of jewelry. As he presses a soft kiss on the warm skin, Brynjolf murmurs to her, "They always do, Lass. Hopefully they keep giving us their favor."
A/N Another Story. I'M SORRY. This was something I was toying around with a few months back, and just decided to see if I could get something rolling with it.
I can't help it. I love writing Thieves Guild-centric stories. Someone did ask me awhile back for a Vilkas story, and I haven't forgotten about it...just...he's such an asshole, especially right after Blood's Honor. I get it, you're mourning. Doesn't give you the right to be a douche though. I have a few ideas for it though, just have to connect them properly. And do not worry, my other stories will continue (or be updated, in the case of Accepted). This just demanded to be noticed by Senpai.