As a protesting Brand-Shei was being dragged away by the guards, Brynjolf joined Maevyn by the stack of crates, another smile spreading across his face as he pressed 150 septims into her sweaty palm.
"You did well, lass. One of the better jobs I've seen in a while,"
During the time in which she was crouched behind Madesi's stall, she had thought for certain that the guilt would rack her when the job was complete for harming an innocent man, but she was surprised that there was only a mixture of adrenalin and excitement flowing through her. As she smiled back at Brynjolf, she realized that she had never formally introduced herself to him.
"Let's have ourselves a drink while we talk," she suggested.
A pint of ale in hand, Maevyn sat across from Brynjolf in The Bee and Barb, an old tavern that was run by two young argonians.
"Earlier," Maevyn began after introducing herself, "you said that I should talk to you if I were interested in more work like this,"
She continued as the man's eyebrows raised in amusement.
"That… excitement…" she paused, trying to find the right words to fit her description, "The thrill that embraced me while doing that job felt like this was what I had been yearning for in the past few years of my life," she folded her hands as she looked squarely at Brynjolf, "and I want to learn more of the skill I had just witnessed. I want to master it."
He laughed at her choice of words and smiled. She noticed he did that a lot. Lots of smiling and laughing.
"Well Maevyn, I'm not surprised at your decision. I could tell you were naturally gifted in the arts of stealth and deception right from the start. But you must know that this life of a thief is not all about the fun and coin. It's dangerous. You could get thrown in jail, injured, killed," he added solemnly, every spark of humor vanishing from his eyes.
Maevyn nodded in agreement, secretly thinking that the risk was what made it enjoyable.
He eased back in his chair, the seriousness dropping away from his demeanor,
"You are not alone as a thief in Riften. There is a whole guild of thieves in the city, so creatively named 'The Thieves Guild'," he added in amusement, the light returning to his navy eyes. "Do you wish to become a thief?" he asked, leaning forward with both elbows placed on the table.
Maevyn smiled as she accepted.
The two stood up and shook hands. She was surprised to find his was calloused, yet warm.
"Welcome to the Guild, Maevyn," he smiled brightly as he said this, his hand enclosed around hers.
Before departing, Brynjolf said he would be back in the morning to bring her to the base in the sewers. At hearing this, Maevyn was puzzled. A base in the sewers? Well, they are thieves. She watched as Brynjolf exited the building and walked up to the Argonian woman manning the counter.
"I would like to rent a room here for the night," Maevyn said politely, pulling out her coin purse.
"Certainly," the Argonian said in a gravelly voice, "10 septims."
After Maevyn placed the gold on the counter and turned around, she noticed two men staring at her.
"Well!" boomed one drunkenly, eyes bloodshot with something stronger than mead, "we have a pretty little lady over here staying in our inn! Won't his be fun, Valkir?" He looked over to the man next to him, who had just slammed an empty tankard on the table top.
"Oh yes, brother," he said in an oily voice that matched the texture of his hair, "she looks like a rough one. Take a look at that scar on that fine face," he finished as his eyes trailed everywhere but her face.
Maevyn reached up to trace the scar out of habit. She glared at the men, unsure of what else to do.
"Hey, hey," the Argonian hissed, "You two will be thrown out if you keep harassing my patrons like that. She turned to Maevyn, "Please, pay no mind to Valkir and Banjorn. They're the scum that are always expected in a place like this," she said, referring to Riften. "I assure missus, I won't let them harm you."
Maevyn smiled at the lizard in appreciation, thanked her for the room, and stalked past the drunken men.
In her room, Maevyn undressed and piled her leather armor underneath the table, along with her bow and quiver. Lying down in the bed and staring at the wood-plank ceiling, she thought of the day.
A thief! This was certainly a good decision; coin and excitement are what I need right now; I'm sure I don't need to slay dragons right away. Had Brynjolf really meant I was good at stealing? What if he didn't mean it and was only trying to make me feel better? Brynjolf. He is a very nice man. I wouldn't expect him to be a thief at first glance, but then again, I guess you have to appear that way to remain inconspicuous. I should start carrying a set of picks with me at all times now, and also a dagger or two. I guess I'll also have to buy some lighter armor. Do they give me jobs, or do I do as I wish and hand in a portion of my fruits to support the guild? Do I get partners or is it a lone wolf-type deal? I wonder if I'll get to work with Brynjolf some more. I wouldn't mind that. I would expect a thief to be serious and secretive, but he was open and light-hearted. His eyes are very attar-
Maevyn's thoughts were cut off as her stomach rumbled, signaling dinner was at hand. The light outside was turning a deep purple as night approached the city, confirming her suspicions.
Walking down the stairs, she noticed that the two men were still there, bottles and pints littering the table and floor around them. They were the only ones in the room at the moment, all other patrons gone in the Morndas night and the bartender nowhere to be found. Gods be damned, they're right in front of the counter. Maevyn looked at them in disgust as she contemplated turning back to her room, but hung her head and continued as they spotted her. Walking past the one called Valkir, she stood stoickly at the bar a few feet away from him, waiting for the argonian to return.
Noticing this was the lady he and his brother called out earlier, he smiled a conniving grin and leaned forward to grab Maevyn's waist. "So you've come back, you petite thing? Couldn't stay away from the charming Valkir?" His brother laughed loudly as Maevyn gasped at Valkir's attempt to pull her onto his lap.
She spun around quickly and pulled back her arm, her hand balling up into a dense fist, and letting the rage build up inside as electricity rippled through her upper body, making her a human cattle prod. As soon as she let go, her knuckles connected with the bloated fleshy face and knocked him out of his chair, sprawling on the floor as her twitched from the jarring shock. His brother gaped open-mouthed at his grounded sibling for a moment, not realizing what had happened. As his drunken state of mind caught up with him, he stood up, his chair falling back behind him with a bang. Banjorn rushed at the woman, shoulder lowered for a tackle. As Maevyn stepped out of the way, he made contact with the counter, hitting his head hard on the side. Spinning him around so he was slouched against the bar, Maevyn punched the left side of his face three times, then the right side, the electricity transferring from her hand with each punch. As she cocked her arm back for a blow to the eye, she was pulled from behind, the room becoming a blur as she was swung around and thrown on the floor. She landed on her back as Valkir jumped on top of her, squeezing her face in a large hand as he punched with his other. As black spots blocked her vision with each hit, Maevyn struggled to remover her arm from his pinning knees. Thrashing about, one came free and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing with what strength she had left, electing to pause the flow of magic from her hands, not wanting to actually kill him. As Valkir clawed at her throttling hand, she slid from underneath him and was on her feet in the next moment. Kicking him down to the ground, she spun around to deal with the other brother, blue sparks shooting from her palm, but saw an argonian man had him grabbed by the back of the neck and was being lead to the door. Maevyn grabbed Valkir in the same manner and followed the argonian, shoving the vile being into the walkway outside, trying to quell the idea of throwing his rotted ass in the canal below.
She turned to the argonian. She had a split lip and her nose was bleeding.
"Thank you," she said thickly, the red slowly ebbing from her vision, "for throwing them out."
The lizard looked at her worriedly, "I am so sorry, Serah. I should not have left the room unattended with those two here. Do you need help with your… wounds?"
She smiled as she assured the argonian she was okay, and requested a bowl of soup and a pint of ale.
After eating, Maevyn went back up to her room, disgruntled and irritated. On the way up, she held out her hand in front of her, palm open as she thought of peaceful things like rivers, or the beautiful orange birch trees outside of the city; things that brought a state of balance to her mind. As warmth flooded her, she felt her lip close up and the bruises in her face disappear. Other than feeling light-headed from the depletion of magika, Maevyn felt like she had never participated in a fight her whole life. When she got up to her room, she pulled a dark red bottle from her bag and emptied the contents into her mouth in one swig. The potent healing potion made her feel like she had never known any pain at all in her life.
Content, Maevyn climbed in the bed and blew out the candle, a sudden drowsiness blanketing her from the day's events. The last thing she thought of before darkness overtook her was a flash of red hair and the sound of clicks from the picking of a lock.
AuthorsNote: Hello! So this was my first fight seen I have ever written, and I'm not too sure how I did. Maybe I should've added more detail. Maybe made it longer. I'm not sure, but I enjoyed writing it. Sorry it took a while to get this one out, but exams are coming up soon. I hope you like this chapter, and comments are appreciated. Thank you and have a dandy day.