A/N: Sorry about the late update, I meant to upload this before I graduated and went camping for a week but completely forgot (yay, no more school!) Again I must say that I haven't fully read over this chapter yet, I will be reading over it soon and will fix the mistakes that I find. If any of you happen to find grammatical mistakes, feel free to tell me in the reviews/comments, thanks! Hopefully the next chapter is done quicker than this one. Also, thank you for the support so far, it means a lot :)
DISCLAIMER: As you know, I do not own the Elder Scrolls. Therefore, all of the credit involving the game goes to the talented people at Bethesda Softworks. In saying that, some of the characters, a bunch of plot stuffs and mystical happenings that happen in this story belong to me.
Memories flashed before my eyes as we entered the overgrown clearing. The wooden remains of the house still smoking with a group of people standing near the riverbank.
'What is this place, lass?' he asked, but I knew that he already half-knew the answer.
I pulled lightly on the reins, stopping my stallion. Brynjolf did the same, looking at the remains of the burnt down house.
'This is where my father lived. It is also where he died, and where he was buried,' I murmured.
Brynjolf stared at me in shocked silence. I dismounted and led my stallion to a tree where I tied his reins around a branch. I walked up the decaying stairs of the house and stood where the front door would have been, fighting the prickling sensation in my eyes. I rested my head on what remained of the doorframe as I stared at the crumbling fireplace, trying to imagine my father working there.
'Kirani … lass, I'm so sorry,' Brynjolf murmured, suddenly behind me.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I lead Brynjolf over to the riverbank, where his headstone still stood proudly. Without saying anything, I sat down at the foot of his grave and looked up at Brynjolf.
'What else do you want to know?' I asked calmly.
Brynjolf blinked and composed himself before sitting down beside me. 'Tell me about your family.'
I hesitated, part of me wanting to just tell him the basics, but I knew that he wanted more than that. Uneasiness crept through me, I wasn't used to being so open with anyone. Especially him.
'Well, my mother was a bard who went by the name Janette and my father was a farmer who went by the name of Clintos. That basically sums up how they met, I don't really know much about her. They got married, had a son and after a couple of years, a daughter too. Mum died giving birth to me, Marcus left to join the Stormcloaks when I was a preteen. I learnt everything from my father; my hunting, sneaking, swordplay and even my baser thieving skills. He never actually taught me how to snatch a rich man's coin purse, but setting some traps and smithing small objects requires the same light touch. I left home when I was sixteen to live in Riften, you know the rest of my story from then on. After I moved out, dad sold the farm to his half-brother Jofthor and his family so he could build this cottage. I didn't come back to visit him, I don't think I really realised it had been two years. But nevertheless, one morning I got a letter from a courier informing me when his funeral was. As soon as I got to Ivarstead that day, I went straight to Fastred and asked her what had happened. The house had burned down, and my father with it.'
Silence overcame the both of us, I didn't know what else to say. Brynjolf didn't seem to know what to say either. He stared down at his hands, which were open in his lap.
'I never knew my parents. Karliah, Mercer and Gallus turned out to be the only family I needed. I will never forget how I felt when I found out that Gallus had been murdered,' he murmured.
My gaze fell on the water following steadily over the lakebed at our feet, small birds fluttered in the long grass behind and around us. In a way, I was glad that Fastred had let the land come to this overgrown state. It was a somewhat comforting thought to know that my father's decomposing remains would benefit the smaller animals and vegetation.
'I never got to say goodbye to him, Bryn,' I whispered and shamed tears filled my eyes. A lump grew in my throat that made it hard to speak. 'I never got to tell him how much I loved him, or how much I would miss him.'
In the corner of my eye, Brynjolf's head tilted up to look at me, I didn't return his gaze. Shame weighed down my heart and I cursed the weak tears that slid down my cheeks, knowing that now that the dam had been broken, nothing could stop the flood.
Sobs shook my body, as two parts of myself fought against each other. One side fighting for the hope that Brynjolf would comfort me, the other hoping with all of its might that he wouldn't. I felt my heart stutter at the thought of his lips on mine, I pushed the thought out of my head.
No, you're not supposed to think something like that about him. He's a womanizer and he's also six years older than you, I chastised myself, closing my eyes and letting my face fall into my hands.
Distracting myself slowed the flow of my tears. Just as I had the wild emotions raging around my heart under control, Brynjolf put a solid arm around me and pulled me into his lap. For a moment I just froze with shock, his strong and warm arms wrapped protectively around my waist, his chest pressed up against my back as his chin rested on my shoulder. I unfroze, pulled my legs to my chest and hugged them, basking in the sun as well as Brynjolf's natural warmth. My tears stopped completely, and the side that wanted Brynjolf to comfort me won. I closed my eyes and began to relax in his arms, ready and willing to stay sitting in his arms for a lifetime.
'I never knew my parents. I grew up in Honour Hall, the only "parent" I had in that place was the hag Grelod the Kind. You already know how much of a caregiver she is,' Brynjolf murmured. 'As soon as I was old enough to take care of myself, she threw me out onto the streets where I stole from the people of Riften. That's when Gallus and Karliah found me, took me in and trained me up.'
In my mind, I pictured the younger Brynjolf being forced to slave away for Grelod as all of her children used to. The image made a menacing anger boil in my stomach, and – to my surprise – I was glad of the day that Grelod had been murdered.
'Gallus, Mercer and Karliah were family; parents or siblings. Although Mercer seemed to distance himself from Gallus and Karliah a lot, so he was more of a distant uncle or something like that. Yet somehow, I still believed him when he told the Guild that Karliah had killed Gallus and tried to kill him in the process,' he paused for a moment, looking down at me. 'I never told you how glad I am that you cleared Karliah's name and brought her back to us, lass.'
Silence overcame us again. For a moment, we just looked into each other's eyes and said nothing. When the gaze began to get heated, I was the first to look away.
'Now,' Brynjolf said as he stood. 'Which skill would you like to hone first, lass?'
He held his hand out to me, I took it and he pulled me to my feet. It amazed me how one minute he could be filled with so much emotion, and the next he was stone-faced and serious.
'What skills are lacking?' I asked, trying to compose myself.
'Well I would like to make you better at infiltration, lockpicking and mastering sneak would be wise as well,' he murmured and began pacing in front of me. 'Lockpicking would be the skill that needs the most attention to be honest, lass.'
'Well, we'll begin with the lockpicking then,' I said enthusiastically. 'How does one teach that skill anyway? It seems more like something you learn yourself with a few tips to get you on your way.'
Brynjolf turned and faced me with a half smirk tugging on his lips. 'You're right lass, it is something you learn yourself. How many lockpicks do you have on you at the moment?'
Confused, I pulled open my satchel and grabbed the handful of lockpicks I had gathered over the years. When I held them out to Brynjolf, a sly grin returned to his face as he took them from me.
'What…?' I began, but trailed off when I noticed that he was counting them.
'If you don't mind, I'll be keeping these on me for a while lass,' he said mockingly as he closed his hand. 'You'll get five each day. With those five picks, you will have to unlock several strongboxes that I give you. The first couple will be an average difficulty to get you accustomed to the tumblers. If you break all five lockpicks on a box, you'll have to wait until the next morning to get more.'
'Are you going to be giving me advice?' I asked, taking five lockpicks as he handed them to me.
'Of course, lass,' he said, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. 'Whenever I see fit, but what you said is true; the style of lockpicking differs from person to person so it will be quicker if you teach yourself how to do it.'
I nodded, pocketing four of the picks. 'So where's my first task?'
Brynjolf smiled at me before reaching into his pocket and tossing a small box in my direction. I caught it as he walked passed me towards the horses.
'First, I want you to open the lock as quickly as you can,' Brynjolf called as he fiddled with his saddlebags. 'It's a cheap lock so it should be easy enough for you.'
'I do have some experience you know,' I murmured.
'I know lass, I just need to see your technique at first,' he replied.
Nodding as I sat down, I looked down at the box in my hands and uncertainly back up at Brynjolf. He nodded for me to proceed and I nervously placed four of the picks in my lap as I shifted my hold on the box. I studied the lock, it was obviously cheaply made as the metal was nowhere near as smooth and defined as it would be on a more expensive lock. I took a deep breath to steady myself and pulled a thin dagger from my pocket. The tumblers made clicking noises when the pick passed over them, I experimented until I got the perfect position and began to turn the dagger.
The box unlocked with a loud click that had finality to it. I looked up at Brynjolf to see his reaction.
He stared down at me with a strange expression on his face.
'What?' I asked, looking down at the box to see if I had done something wrong, it was open and empty in my hands.
'One would be a fool to believe that thieving is not your natural talent,' he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. 'You did everything right lass. The way you inserted the pick, the way you felt around for the tumblers and pinpointed their location before attempting to open the lock. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you'd been doing it for years.'
Blush burned my cheeks and I looked away from him. Since when was Brynjolf so forward with complements and the like? I remembered back when he considered me a pup, inexperienced and unfocused. He would tell me so several times a day and yet my confusing feelings for him continued to grow. I remembered when I failed my first mission, Brynjolf – stressed about the Guild's descent into poverty – had reprimanded me quite loudly in front of our Guildmates. He had said I was useless, that I was a failure and that I was too unfocused to learn from what my mistakes were teaching me.
Yet here I was, in the remains of my father's home with a completely different side of Brynjolf. I was no longer pushing myself hard to impress him, every little thing that I did seemed to be doing so without my effort.
I looked down at the open box in my hands, suddenly uncertain of myself. What caused this change? Is he just being kinder to me because I agreed to help him with the Elder Scroll? I questioned myself mentally.
'This may not take as long as I thought it would, lass,' Bryn said happily. 'The quicker this is over with the quicker…' I looked up at him, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. 'The quicker I can sleep soundly at night knowing that the Grey Fox will never touch that Scroll.'
I frowned, confused at the slight redness in his cheeks and his sudden shyness. What was he about to say?
'Bryn, it was a novice lock,' I said quickly. 'Don't speak too soon, I've unlocked plenty of novice locks in my lifetime. I have never attempted locks that are higher than adept.'
A childish grin stole his face, all traces of his nervousness faded. 'All locks are novice lass, you just need to get used to their patterns.'
A similar smile stole my lips, I stood to hand the opened box back to him. 'How can a master lock be the same as a novice lock? I thought the whole point of them was that they were different.'
Brynjolf chuckled quietly. 'The only difference that they have is the touchiness of their tumblers. In easier locks, the area of tumblers is bigger, it decreases in size the harder the lock but the pattern remains the same.'
'Oh,' I replied simply, feeling like an idiot.
It didn't seem to take much to get Brynjolf to laugh. Nevertheless, his smile was contagious and I found myself smiling with him even though it was my lack of lockpick knowledge that he was laughing at. I stood and walked towards the river. As I watched, a leaf fell from the birch tree next to me and landed in the flowing water. I watched as the orange spot of colour disappeared downstream. The silence that had fallen over Brynjolf and I was a welcome one. I studied the familiar landscape around me. Ivarstead held so many memories, both good and bad. It seemed to complete itself more to have Brynjolf here with me, looking into my past and clearing a path for my future.
'I don't want to leave this moment,' I murmured. My heart pumped as soon as the words left my lips, it was a thought I hadn't meant to voice, but I continued with it anyway. 'Everything just seems to fit together perfectly. I don't feel the weight any more, Brynjolf. I don't feel the guilt of my father's death pressing down on me.'
He pulled me around to face him, my chest hit his. My heart picked up the pace when I registered how close he was to me. His hand slid down my arm and rested on the curve of my hip.
'Lass …' he trailed off, looking down at my neck as he cupped it with his other hand and searched for words. When his eyes met mine again, I was shocked to see so much emotion in them. 'You have no idea just how much you mean to me.'
My muscles locked up when he started to lean in, I held my breath when his gaze dropped to my lips. I felt Brynjolf freeze, I let my eyelids flutter closed and waited for him to make the move. Every muscle in my body craving the feeling of his lips against mine.
For a moment, all I felt was the cold breeze rushing against me. I couldn't figure out why the feeling could give me so much disappointment. I frowned and opened my eyes, searching for Brynjolf.
He was standing a few feet away from me with his back to me, his hands gripping fistfuls of his fiery hair. My frown deepened and I took an uncertain step towards him. I opened my mouth and was about to ask, but as the words became lumps in my throat, he whirled around with a fierce emotion burning in his sea green eyes.
'To Oblivion with it, lass,' he murmured huskily. 'The rules don't apply to us anymore.'
By the time that I had blinked, Brynjolf had taken two strides towards me, cupped my face in his hands and met his lips with mine. At first, I was too shocked to kiss him back. My muscles tensed up as an unfamiliar fire began to burn through me. I moaned and relaxed into Brynjolf's strong embrace, my lips mirroring the movements that his made. At the sound of my moan, a low growl tore its way up Brynjolf's throat. A shudder passed through me at the sound. Brynjolf's hands left my neck and trailed down to my hips. He lifted me off the ground and wrapped my legs around his waist. I moaned again when he started walking, a gasp escaping my lips when my back collided with the trunk of a tree.
Disbelief began clouding my mind, had Brynjolf known all along about my feelings for him? Had he … had he felt the same way? Before I even realised the fact that I had hesitated, Brynjolf pulled back and looked at me with confusion in his eyes.
'What is it, lass?' he murmured, it satisfied me some to hear his lust in his voice.
I shook my head. 'Nothing, Bryn …' I trailed off, already regretting what I was about to say. 'But perhaps this isn't the best time to be copulating. I have to leave in two weeks and there isn't …' I stopped myself from voicing my doubt. 'What I'm trying to say is, maybe we should wait until this is all said and done.'
I watched as he read between the lines of what I had said. For a brief moment, pain stole away the light in his eyes. When I blinked it returned again and he was smiling down at me, but he hadn't released my legs.
'You're right of course, lass,' he murmured, stroking my hip with his thumb one last time before lowering me gently to the ground.
I smiled shyly up at him before turning to face the river again.
'Although I'm hoping that you aren't asking me to make any promises that I cannot keep,' he murmured, my heart fluttered as I realised the meaning of his words. 'That would not be very wise, lass.'