It was an oddly quiet night in the Flagon, not that Delvin Mallory minded. Ever since the guild was blessed with their new Guild Master, things for the thieves had changed- their luck was better than ever, jobs kept flowing in, the merchants were back in the Flagon, and the new recruits not only stayed with the guild, they were also competent. This meant more money coming in, which meant members weren't just sitting around doing nothing all day long.
The Breton leaned back in the chair he was relaxing in, dropping his booted feet on the edge of the table. Opening the bottle of mead he held in his hands, the master thief goes to drink except his gaze gets dragged to the side by the opening and shutting of the door that leads into the cistern. Not five minutes later comes the black leather clad form of his Guild Master, a rather frustrated look on her face.
"You're up late Boss," he says to the Nord woman, an eyebrow arching as it asks the unasked question.
"I'm up late every night." A soft huff is heard over the crackling of lit candles and the flowing waters of the sewers as an auburn head turns to look at him. "The amount of work that has to be finished won't get done on its own, Mallory. That's something the Second seems to forget...or chooses to ignore, not quite sure. I sometimes wonder if Mercer was able to get away with what he was doing for so long because of Bryn's lack of taking on responsibility unless the situation calls for it."
A bare hand gestures to the seat next to him, offering her the chance to sit. As the woman walks over, stopping only to grab a bottle of mead from behind the bar, the Master Thief asks "And what did our wayward brother do now, Aisling?"
"You mean what hasn't he done?" a tired voice goes as she collapses in the seat. "Things I had asked him to get done weeks ago are still sitting there, and still, any time I try to get him to stay in one place long enough to talk with him about things I get the," here, the Guild Master coughs and mimics the ginger male's voice " 'Sorry Lass, I've got important things to do. We'll speak another time.' line. I am only one person, Del, Dragonborn though I may be. I can't do it all on my own."
"And do you have an idea of what he's doing when he's claiming these important things needing to be doing?" Golden orbs pass over her form, taking note of the dark circles under dull cobalt, the sunken cheeks, the way her armor didn't seem to fit as it used to. How didn't any of us notice this?
Lithe fingers remove the cork from the mead bottle then tosses it on the table in disgust. "Not for all of them, but currently he's getting rather comfortable with our resident Dunmer down the hall, if you catch my drift,"she growls out before taking a long pull from the bottle. "And before you ask, no I am not jealous of the attentions Brynjolf is giving to Karliah- maybe at another time I would have been, but I'm not keen on becoming just yet another notch in his bedpost. What I am jealous of is that he doesn't have time to deal with me, but he'll make all the time in Oblivion for her or whoever else is willing to spread their legs for him! Damn it to the Evergloam, Delvin. I'm sacrificing everything for this family including my right to have a life and no one seems to appreciate me or what I do!"
"I care."
"Don't make me laugh Mallory. You are so wrapped up in trying to convince Vex to have a go with you that you do not always see what else is going on around you. I don't know who is worse, you focusing on the unobtainable or him for wanting to obtain it all- guess that's why you're thieves." Reaching into a pocket, she pulls out a handful of septims, then drops them on the wood table in a haphazard pile next to the half finished bottle. "Make sure Vekel gets these in the morning," Aisling orders the Breton across from her as she stands from the dark wood chair.
Grayish brown eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches out, grabbing lightly at her wrist. "Where are you going, Boss?"
"Home to try and actually get a decent sleep, I think I deserve at least that much." She softly blows some air upwards, trying to get some rogue strands of hair out of her line of sight, "And come morning, I hope to head to Windhelm and then maybe find answers to my questions... or at least receive some guidance."
"Are you leaving us?"
"Would it honestly make a difference?" Her head shakes in the negative. "The Guild is my family, even if the bloody fuckin' lot of you take advantage of me. No, I will be coming back, just a matter of when." Aisling gently takes a hold of his hand and pries it loose from her person, but doesn't release her grip on it just yet. "Gods and Daedra willing, of course," she mumbles half to herself, lifeless eyes going distant for a second. Shaking her head, the Guild Master absently runs a thumb over Delvin's palm, then releases his hand, turns and moves towards the exit.
A strange look crosses the man's face as he watches the woman who saved their livelihood just walk out of the Flagon without another word. Bryn and Karliah? They wouldn't have...unless… Delvin was torn between going after Aisling and finding out exactly what she either saw or heard, and the need to keep the Guild Master close to home won out. He knew that if she left without word, she had enough hiding places across the province and Solstheim to disappear until she deemed herself ready to return...if she chose to return.
The only sound heard in the nearly empty room was the sound of a wooden chair being pushed back along the floor, followed by the soft echos of booted feet on stone as the lone occupant slowly makes his way through the Flagon towards the Ratways, and eventually out into the cool Riften night.