A wide smile spread across Maevyn's face as she stepped through the threshold of Honeyside for the first time, taking in her new home. The cottage certainly was tiny, with only three real rooms within the home, but Maevyn loved it and couldn't ask for anything more perfect. A small fireplace welcomed her and cast a warm glow around the room, blanketing the miniscule dining room in inviting hues of oranges and yellows. The dining room opened up to the small master bedroom, which contained a prim double bed and a set of doors that led to the back porch. There was also an opening in the floor with a ladder that went down to the basement, leading into a room with an alchemy nook.
Maevyn's face lit up as she saw the full-sized station, with shelves stocked with ingredients that were often hard to come by in her travels: canis root, fire salts, void salts, glow dust, and Wisp wrappings. Branching off from the main basement room were two smaller rooms: one with a large enchanting table and mannequins for holding armor, and the other her housecarl's room, whom she had yet to meet.
The front door opened and a stony, unfamiliar voice called out, "Hello? Thane, are you here?"
Maevyn walked up the ladder and saw a sturdy Nordic woman was standing in front of the hearth, her cold eyes boring into her thane as she popped her head through the open hatch in the floor.
"Hello," Maevyn began, stepping into the room, "I am Maevyn Eldurvari. You must be my housecarl…" she trailed off as she extended a hand, realizing she did not know her name.
"I am Iona," the woman met Maevyn's handshake with a surprisingly firm grasp, "it is a pleasure to serve you, my thane," she finished, a steady tone leveling her icy stare.
"Ah, yes. Please Iona, call me Maevyn. I hope you find my home and myself hospitable when it comes to comfort," a bright smile spread across her face, hoping it hid the uncomfortable tension.
Iona bowed her head and crossed an enclosed fist over her heart, showing respect for her new thane, "As you wish, my thane,"
While she was in the room with her housecarl, Maevyn felt like she had to stand as straight as possible, reciprocating the amount of respect Iona showed her; the last thing she wanted to do was undermine her new protector and make her feel inferior in her new home, where one was supposed to relax. It was also obvious to Maevyn that the woman showed little emotion when it came to anything; she was serious and stoic, always alert as her cold eyes constantly swept the room, looking for any possible danger.
As my housecarl, Maevyn thought, I will need her trust and she will need mine. I wonder how that will work out with me being a thief and all…
Sooner or later, Maevyn knew, she would have to tell Iona of her occupation and hope that the woman didn't storm out of the house or plunge a dagger through her throat on the spot. She really did want to make a good impression on the woman and be liked, but it was obvious that it would be difficult with the standing factors.
"Well Iona, your room is downstairs. I hope you like it. And if you need anything, please, feel free to request," Maevyn said, a cheery smile on her face, hoping it conveyed welcome and warmth to her new roommate.
Iona said nothing as she slipped past Maevyn and went down the ladder. Moments later, she returned, a contempt stare on her face as she went to the dining room and sat in a chair, arms folded tightly over her chest.
"You know," Maevyn began, "I will pay you, and you don't have to stay in the house all of the time. You're free to come and go as you please,"
"That is unnecessary, my thane. I am sworn to protect you and I have no need or time for enjoyment and pleasure," the war-maiden replied in her monotonous voice staring into the dancing fire.
I'll have to work on that, Maevyn thought as she began to store her numerous belongings from the cistern into a chest by her bed, also noting that there wasn't much storage.
Escaping the contemptuous gaze of her housecarl and stepping onto the back porch, Maevyn looked at the stretching waters of Lake Honrich before her and was very pleased with her accommodations. The raised porch led down a flight of stairs to a worn path, which Maevyn assumed led to the front gates of Riften. There was also a tanning rack and a small table that graced the rickety porch with charm. A nice place for a morning breakfast.
Going back through the cottage and exiting through the front doors, Maevyn went to inspect the garden, which pleased her to find it filled with blooming plants. Some essential potion bases, others were viable cooking options, and some plants just looked pretty. Pushed against the back wall, there was a barrel, which Maevyn found odd. Walking up to it, she saw a small mark scratched into the wooden side: a rhombus with a circle inside. A cache! Brynjolf never mentioned this one… she thought as she opened the lid and sifted through the contents, pulling out each item with delight: a score of glass arrows, a large pouch of septims, some gemstones, and an elven dagger.
Very happy with her new home, Maevyn crossed the docks to the small graveyard in the back of Mara's temple, entering a partially opened mausoleum. Looking over both shoulders, she pushed a discreet button on the stone sarcophagus, which opened up to reveal a secret passage way that led directly to the cistern.
"Brynjolf!" Maevyn called as she spotted him across the room, stepping off the old ladder ad into the echoing base.
The man looked up from the desk as he heard her, smiling when she approached him.
"I bought Honeyside," she stated proudly, presenting him a key.
He took it and gave a low whistle as he took the heavy copper, weighing it in his outstretched palm, "Very nice, lass. I think a house-warming party is in order?" he said, a sly smile creeping across his face.
"Oh, I don't know about that…" Maevyn began, taking the key back and placing it into her pocket.
I certainly would like it if he came over. That would be something to remember.
"C'mon lass, it'll be fun,"
"Maybe in a few days Brynjolf. Right now though, it looks like Mercer wants something," she said, slightly disappointed as she gestured to the icy Breton that was rapidly approaching them.
"Glad you showed up, Maevyn," he said, no tone of welcome or pleasure in his voice, "Maven Black-Briar wants to see both of you. Immediately," he added sternly as he curled his lip at the young woman, and then proceeded to stalk back to his desk where he began to furiously scribble on a slip of parchment.
"Well," Maevyn said, slightly bristled, "I can see he still does not believe me to be a reliable thief,"
"No lass, don't worry; he's always like that. But it wouldn't hurt to be a bit more welcoming," he added as he stared at the guild-master, "I wonder what Maven wants,"
"I don't know, but I think we should head up there now," Maevyn said, worry coloring her tone as possibilities ran through her head, "I thought we did well on Goldenglow, well, besides killing Aringoth, but how could we prevent that? Besides, the guild could easily run the farm, giving Maven an even better deal than before," she rambled as her knees started to slightly shake.
"Maven isn't mad at us. If she was, we would know it by now," he chuckled at her suddenly fearful demeanor, "Lass, it's cute when you're frightened,"
The sudden comment made Maevyn's thoughts flee from the numerous images of Maven Black-Briar slowly killing the two of them off, "Oh, well. Um, thank you, Brynjolf," she stammered as her face grew very red.
Her flushed cheeks made Brynjolf smile appreciatively, amused by his ability to control her embarrassment.
"Well yes. Let's go now," she coughed as she brushed quickly past the red-headed nord, head lowered to hide her face as she did so.
"I can't believe," began Maevyn after the two exited the Bee and Barb, "that all she wants us to do is get rid of competition. I find it a bit insulting, actually; why does she need thieves to do such an easy task?" she asked, skaing her head from their meeting with the matriarch of Riften.
"Well, Remember that Maven does have a reputation to keep, and doesn't want something this unseemly to go out to the public," he answered, brushing his fiery hair back from his forehead, "I think we should leave for Whiterun tomorrow morning,"
"That sounds good," Maevyn said, looking up at the lowering sun, "I'll meet you in the cistern for dinner in a while, okay? I'd invite you over to Honeyside, but I still need to buy food,"
"That sounds excellent," Brynjolf replied before ambling off toward the cemetery.
Maevyn walked over to Balimund's giving the bellows a few wheezes to announce her arrival, watching as the blazing embers glowed brightly with each puff of air.
"Ah, Maevyn," the smith said, "glad ya could make it over fer a lesson,"
"Of course, Balimund. I need it," she said as she picked up a few iron ingots from the bench and laid them on the edge of the forge.
Between the loud cracks of the hammer on the white-hot metal, Maevyn and the smith exchanged words, talking about their week and upcoming events.
"It's almost Asbjorn's twenty-seventh year," Balimund began, looking up hopefully at Maevyn as he hinted at their close ages.
"Oh really? I'll have to get him something nice," Maevyn said, the image of a young nord surfaced to her mind, the adopted son and apprentice of the friendly smith. "How is he doing?"
"He's fine, I s'pose. An excellent smith and such. I just wish he would find someone to be happy with," he said, dropping a less subtle hint at his match-making preference of Maevyn and his son.
"Well, I hear there are some lovely women in Shor's Stone," Maevyn replied, shifting on her feet uncomfortably as she worked over the workbench.
"I s'pose," the man sighed, gazing off into the orange sun that was setting behind the walls of the city.
After a while, Maevyn held out a finely sharpened glass dagger, "How is this?" she asked, eyeing the green blade.
"It's excellent," Balimund said, testing the blade on his thumb, "I have no doubt that ya 'ave talent fer this line of work. You're an easy student to teach," he added, smiling appreciatively.
"Thank you," Maevyn said, happy with his praise and her accomplishment, "thank you for the lessons," she said, laying a heavy pouch of gold on the bench, "I'll come by for Asbjorn's birthday," she added, sheathing the dagger into her belt.
"See ya 'round, Maevyn" he called as she walked toward the cemetery.
AuthorsNote: Yet again, another filler. I really apologize that it's slow at the moment, but there needs to be build up! Geeze, I feel really bad about it.
On another note: after drafting this, I realized my writing has drastically changed from the first chapter to now. Like before, I felt my writing had a tangible flow, with detail and clarity. And now I see that I have dropped that, so in this chapter, I tried to patch that up. Comments about it, maybe?
Next chapter, we'll see Bryn and Maevyn sabotage Honningbrew, along with a drunk house-warming party and confessions! :)
Now I know this chapter cut off abruptly, but that's because I'm expecting to get the next chapters out much more frequently, now that classes are over.
Thank you for reading and have a pleasant day!