Hunched over a table in the corner of the cistern, Maevyn sluggishly spooned the hot grain into her mouth, fighting sleep as it threatened to force her to land face-first in her breakfast. Why did I stay up so late, again? A small bowl of freshly sliced fruit appeared next to her porridge, and she looked up to find Brynjolf standing next to her, a warm smile on his lips,
"G'mornin' lass,"
Right. Him.
"Hello," Maevyn mumbled, her eyes drooping as she laid her head down on the splintering tabletop.
Brynjolf smiled in amusement, "Well now, I see you had a late night? Hitting the books again?"
"No, potions this time. Here," she handed him a large bottle with a whitish liquid inside, "waterbreathing potion. I asked Delvin about the job yesterday, and he said it was on an island-of-sorts, so I took the liberty of brewing this up. I hope you don't mind," she mumbled as she grabbed an apple slice from the bowl.
Brynjolf smiled at her gift and sat across from her. He too handed her something: a small bottle of firebrand wine, "this should wake you up a bit,"
Maevyn flashed a tired smile and took a tiny sip from the bottle, relishing in the warmth that spread through her veins. The drink did wake her up, and she felt much less like a tavern girl who "served" patrons all night.
"Thank you," she said, taking another small sip from the bottle; she could taste the heavy notes of briar heart, the main ingredient in the wine that gave it its distinct fiery properties.
"Alright," Brynjolf began as Maevyn finished off the drink, "We'll leave for Goldenglow as the sun lowers. It's not too far from Riften, we just have to follow along the shore of Lake Honrich and we'll come to a close enough spot to swim to the island."
"What exactly are we doing at Glodenglow?"
"Here's the deal lass: we were working with Maven Black-Briar to insure the honey from Goldenglow got to the Black-Briar meadery without a problem, and we recieved large sums of money from it. Aringoth, the owner, is no longer sending shipments to the meadery, and it's up to us to send him a message that says we're not to be crossed. So you and I are going to the island to burn a number of apiaries. Maybe even pay him a personal visit." He finished and folded his hands, waiting for Maevyn's input.
"Hmm. Surely the place has some type of security? If this Aringoth has a reason for double-crossing the guild and Maven, I would think he's either scared or extremely confident."
"Exactly so. He has mercenaries all over the outside of the estate, as well as in the manor. We'll have to kill them," he added grimly, his voice lowering as he looked at his hands.
Maevyn absentmindedly nodded in agreement, thoughts and ideas flitting through her head.
I'm not one for intimidation. Or killing people, for that matter. The guards won't be too much of a problem, because they'll try and attack me on sight. But Aringoth… maybe we can persuade him. What if we get caught and thrown in jail; after all, he is wealthy if he owns an estate and a honey farm. But then again, Maven is in on this with us, so she could bail us out if that were the case…
"Alright," Maevyn said, still grasping onto lingering thoughts.
"Now, Vex did try this job a few weeks ago herself, and returned with a bruised ego and a sour attitude that lasted all week. More sour than usual, at least." He added with a chuckle.
This new information thrilled Maevyn. If she could do something that Vex couldn't, it would prove that she was valuable to the guild. Plus, no doubt it would spite her, which Maevyn would thoroughly enjoy. But then again, if Vex couldn't do it, could she? Mixed emotions ran through Maevyn's mind as she weighed both outcomes and probabilities of the two scenarios. Pushing the thoughts aside for when she was alone, she addressed Brynjolf,
"Do we necessarily need to do this at night? I mean, it's not like we're trying to be secretive about it."
"Very true, lass. What do you say about going before supper?"
Maevyn nodded, smiling as the plan and strategies were sorted out. Even when the two were done talking about the job, the two stayed at the table for another hour, chatting about previous jobs and stories the two had not shared yet. Laughter and smiles from both weaved in and out through their conversation, making Maevyn feel as confident as ever.
The sun began to tilt towards the West as many people enter the Bee and Barb for their evening meal, while Maevyn and Brynjolf exited through the large doors of the city and onto the cobbled road. Walking past the stables, Brynjolf turned onto a slight path that led to the lake, motioning Maevyn to walk beside him so he could easily talk to her.
"Now, Aringoth is an Altmer, and very stingy and stubborn one at that. If he doesn't comply when we talk to him, we will kill him. He himself is not essential to the flow of honey to the meadery, and we could always run the business ourselves. I bet Tonilia would have her hands full with that," he added with a smile as the descending sun cast and orange glow over the two, making Brynjolf's hair turn a deep shimmering red and transforming his eyes into two sapphires. Maevyn almost stumbled as she gazed at him, and shook her head as she realized how idiotic she was being.
Stop thinking about him! Focus on the task at hand and save the shenanigans for later.
Looking across the lake, she saw the estate; it was very large, even though the island itself was not that big. She could see people moving across paths and bridges, almost looking like ants, ambling along lazily.
Brynjolf looked at her as he talked, "We should only burn three apiaries. We don't want to find a new proprietor for honey. Maven would not like that."
He stopped on the path, turning to face the island, pulled out the bottle Maevyn gave to him earlier, unstopped the cork, and drank the contents in two gulps. Maevyn followed, pulling out her own potion.
"Hey lass, this doesn't taste too bad. I've had some of these that taste like there was sewage and rotten fish heads in it. Maevyn smiled appreciatively, her insides wriggling from his compliment.
Maevyn… Her conscience warned, do not get distracted…
The cool, murky water enveloped them as they dove in, making Maevyn shiver for a moment as the external temperatures changed from hot to cold in an instant. Maevyn knew the salty marsh water should sting her eyes as she opened them beneath the surface, but the potion prevented the pain and obscurity from burdening her.
Movement below her caught her eye and she looked down to see Brynjolf, swimming along the bottom, weaving in and out of the subaquatic vegetation, looking every part of striking mystical creature with his red hair rippling behind him. Silvery bubbles escaped her lips and rushed to the surface as she giggled and joined him, running the silt through her fingers as she skimmed the lake floor.
The two came to the bank of the island, crouching as they crept up to the steps that led to the raised part of land. He moved closer to her so he could whisper in her ear, his breath tickling her neck and making her shiver in delight.
"We'll take out the mercenaries, and then destroy the apiaries. After that, we'll go to Aringoth,"
Maevyn only nodded as she pulled Bellara off her back, aiming at the burly man who had just walked past them. Letting the arrow fly loose, it lodged in the back of the man's neck, causing him to collapse on the ground in a gasping heap. The other mercenaries rushed to him, some pulling out their swords and maces while others bent next to the man, seeing what had happened. Looking beside her as she pulled another arrow from her quiver, she saw Brynjolf was no longer there, but was instead on the other side of the island, his red hair giving away his position to her. He too, had a bow in his hands, rapidly firing arrows in a multitude of directions.
Deciding he had long distance covered, she rushed at the group of men with a dagger in each hand. As she neared the first man, she stabbed one hand to his neck, a deep schlick sounding as she pulled her dagger out and he collapsed on the ground. Another man rushed at her, an arrow appearing in his side before he faltered, but he still kept coming. She ran at him, her daggers slicing into his sides as blood poured from his wounds. He screamed in intense agony before she ran her hand along his throat and slit it. Quickly spinning around, she saw Brynjolf had joined her in the fray, dagger in hand. A woman had a bow drawn, aimed at him, and Maevyn immediately sprinted before she let the arrow loose. The mercenary was wearing fur clothing that only covered her bosom and lower regions. I bet she wasn't planning for an attack, if she dressed like that. Possibly a night with many of these men, but not an attack, Maevyn thought as she closed the gap. Nearing her, she thrust both daggers into her stomach, lifting her slightly off the ground as blood poured from the logged knives. Her breath came out in a rush as the light left her eyes and Maevyn threw the carcass to the ground, looking at carnage.
Brynjolf was limping, a dark stain blossoming across his upper thigh, but still pursuing the remaining mercenaries. Pulling her bow out once again, she aimed at the man who was advancing toward Brynjolf, a greatsword raised above his head. The arrow landed squarely between his eyes, the sword clattering to the dirt as he fell. Only two more mercenaries remained, and were quickly taken out with three arrows and a few slices from Brynjolf.
As the last man collapsed, so did Brynjolf. Maevyn rushed over to him, her face streaming with sweat and creased with worry. He smiled at her when she arrived, trying to prove that he was in no pain, but the grimace on his face told her otherwise.
AuthorNote: Okay, so I know this fight scene is not the best, and I'm sure I'll come back and edit it in a bit; opinions on it?
I would also like to give a shout-out to Elissa Theirin, an amazing writer who gave me a chance when no one seemed to care. All of my thanks goes out to you, Elissa!
On a different note, I may be looking for a beta-reader. PM me if you may be interested.
As always, comments and suggestions are always appreciated. Have a pleasant day!