A/N: Sorry this had been such a long time coming but school has been quite stressful lately and my motivation has suffered in spite of that but here is an extra lengthy chapter to try to make up for my lateness.
Chapter 10: In the weeks that followed
It had been nearly two months since Aria and Brynjolf had shared that beautifully intimate night together wrapped in the stale, itchy blankets of the inn's sheets and since that night things around Riften had become increasingly strange. People quickly took notice that the ginger Nord had taken to sneaking in and out of the Dragonborn's abode at odd hours and the town was abuzz with gossip. Brynjolf found it amusing, quite enjoying hearing his name mentioned in scandalous murmurs in the tavern but Aria was embarrassed.
"It's mortifying," she had complained to him once, ears tinged pink and knuckles white from strain, "I feel like they're all secretly mocking me, waiting for me to slip up or folly my reputation."
To this Brynjolf laughed tenderly, "oh dear don't fret so much, all the gossip I hear is about how devilish I must be in the sheets to hold onto a beauty such as you." Then he kissed her in a way that robbed her of breath and will to complain.
Although their budding relationship wasn't the only change, Aria became much busier as well, often times out of town for days at a time and would then return home late into the night, Brynjolf left waiting worried and very annoyed. He was surprised at his protectiveness and loathed when she had to return to Whiterun knowing those horrid beast-men would croon over her like a bitch in heat. Aria was a better person than he and always found herself in compromising situations to help others with whatever the task may be. As a thief he couldn't understand this willingness to risk her own neck when not even the promise of gold and riches would be her reward.
Nonetheless, he was content. Aria still refused his lewd attempts at consummating their relationship, though she held no such reservation for their sexual escapades. Aria was a fire brand between the sheets and a quick learner, she knew how to make him weak in the knees and tight in the groin.
At this very moment in time he was sitting in front of the hearth at Honeyside manor, boots on the table as he strummed clumsily on a lute Aria had laying about, waiting for her to return from what had kept her occupied throughout the day. Honeyside, unlike the Cistern, didn't smell of piss and vomit yet sometimes Aria's hound could cause a stink to rival the sewers stench. He was beginning to grow tired as the evening slipped into the wee hours of the morning and was considering heading off to bed to wait for his partner in the warmth of the sheets but as he was pulling off his boots he heard an unusual sound. It sound like a thick thud, almost similar to the lifeless flop of a disposed foe, pausing his tirade toward bed Brynjolf waited with bated breath for another sound.
Silene stretched throughout the room and Brynjolf almost shrugged it off as Riften riff raff but then he heard it, a broken moan. Brynjolf's blood froze and fear gripped his heart in an unfamiliar way, lurching forward he stumbled across the room, throwing the door open. At his feet lay Aria, curled and broken looking, blood stained her theives guild attire and her black hair lay matted in her own gore. On her side, starting from her left breast curling towards her bellybutton was a scar so deep Brynjolf could see flashes of bone as she heaved for air, eyes squeezed shut in torment.
"Aria!" He gasped, falling to his knees, his heartbeat in his throat. Throwing his arms around her he could feel her blood soak his leathers, hurriedly he carried her inside, carnage splattering the previously clean floor in gruesome red. Desperate and not knowing what to do Brynjolf tore apart the sheets on the bed, tying in vain to prevent the blood which seeped from the wound on her chest.
"Hold on, lass!" He grunted, tightening a cord of fabric around a hefty gash on her thigh, "just hold on please." Brynjolf begged through grit teeth, sweat slickening his fingers and dripping down his brow.
On the bed, Aria writhed in pain, coughing up thick clots of blood as her flesh burned in fever. Scrambling and not knowing what to do to ease her torture, Brynjolf flew from the bed and rummaged through the drawers hoping to find some kind of remedy. Beside him Vigilance was barking madly, scampering around the bedside, whimpering wildly and growling. Brynjolf let out a roar of frustration as all he could find was one health potion, rushing over to Aria he tipped back her head and parted her lips clumsily pouring the concoction onto her waiting tongue.
Aria choked and heaved again, rib cage revealing only red, shredded flesh. "Bryn_" she wheezed, trying to force a pitiful smile. "You found me afterall. Good."
Brynjolf stopped, stunned, cupping her face, "Aria! What happened? What can I do to help you?! Tell me." He demanded fiercely, pressing his forehead to hers and swallowing the soreness in his throat.
"Help?" She murmured wistfully, as if the concept seemed impossible. "Just lay with me Bryn, I'm tired . . . so tired." Aria's lashes drooped shut and her breathing paused.
"Aria! NO! Wake up dammit!" He growled, bitter tears springing to the corner of his eyes, as he held her body close to him. 'What are you doing, lass?! Fight for Talo's sake, fight!"
The Dragonborn said nothing as slowly her heartbeat grew weaker and weaker, skin fading from it's previous intense heat to the chill of death. Brynjolf sobbed in a way he didn't even know he could, clutching her to his side and cradling her in their blood soaked bed.
He tried everything he knew to do, wrapping her grievances tight and rubbing healing salves into her slashed flesh. Despite all these things her state only bettered slightly and she remained still as death itself. Quickly, after days of no improvement, he became crazed and ran about Riften seeking the aid of any who would listen. Many came, the Dragonborn had many friends and favours owed, but none could help. Within a few days everyone in the Rift who had knowledge of herbs and medicines had come to her bedside, unable to assist. Eventually, even Vilkas and his brother Farkas made an appearance. Fortunately, the weight of Aria's state calmed their usual vicious tempers to a sullen, icy chill. Brynjolf found himself almost feeling sorry for the brothers, he hadn't thought them capable of expressing such grief.
Every waking moment Brynjolf found himself instead of thieving and drinking researching and studying, he read hundreds of tomes for some remedy of help. Many had suggestions, all of which he tried, none worked. As the weeks passed he became sick of mind, Vex and the others were worried for both him and Aria. Delvin, Tonalia and the rest of them focused their attentions on helping their guildmate as well. Nothing helped and the infamous hero and legend remained in a state of restful loss.
When Brynjolf wasn't looking for a cure he sat at Aria's bed side, singing to her in a low off key voice, songs of love, hope and courage. He became adept at lute and strummed softly to her in the moments his voice wouldn't cooperate. The thief was unsure if this helped at all and he told no one he did this, it seemed so foolish. On those night it would just be Vigilance and him, Aria's faithful warhound adding his own woeful chorus. Brynjolf still slept at her side, remaining half conscious at all times to make sure her heart didn't suddenly stop.
Never before had he felt so hopeless . . . so lost.
One evening, about two months since Aria had become lost to him, Brynjolf had Delvin over, for moral support. The elder thief was as much an uncle figure as Gallus had been and he respected him greatly, it was comforting to have him there. Brynjolf had prepared a simple meal of potatoes and boiled grain, and although bland both ate without complaint. Delvin watched him carefully, analyzing his everyone motion as he spooned the brown matter into his mouth.
"This has been very hard on you Bryn, I've never seen you so shook up." Delvin said simply, pushing his meal aside.
Brynjolf said nothing, still chewing slowly. He knew it looked ridiculous, Aria and him weren't even married and to everyone they must seem nothing more than bed mates. But he knew it was so much more, it always had been, from the moment he saw her.
Untroubled by Brynjolf dissonance, Delvin continued. "You've done everything you can, maybe it's time you let her go. She no longer belongs in this world."
Again Brynjolf said nothing but he stopped chewing, jaw locking in anger at the words he'd heard so many times before. He wouldn't give up, couldn't, no matter what anyone said it's not what Aria would've wanted.
Delvin sighed in an old tired way that was unusual to him, "you really love her don't you?"
Brynjolf finally dropped his spoon and pushed away from the table, "Delvin, stop talking." He said coldly, "this is not a discussion I wish to be having."
"But it's one you need to have Brynjolf, you heed to no one these days and it's 'bout time you pulled your head out your ass and actually helped the girl!"
Brynjolf had never seen Delvin so upset with him, the elder man was tightlipped, steely eyed and flat faced, not taking any more bluffs or tricks. "What are you suggesting?" Brynjolf asked hoarsely. "You don't think I've been trying everything I know to help her?"
Delvin settled, collecting himself, "of course you've been trying Bryn but somewhere along the line you lost faith. Believe she'll get better, tell her you support her and eventually she'll grow stronger. You underestimate her."
"Believe in her?" Brynjolf snorted though it was dry and forced, "this isn't some ruse told to sheltered children, Delvin. She's dying and there is not a damn thing I can do about it."
"You're twice the fool Bryn if you don't try. And hear this if you don't try I'll send a polite lil' note over to Whiterun and you better believe one of those lovely fellows will take your stead."
Brynjolf swallowed thickly, ashamed, Delvin was right and deep down he knew it. "Thank you Delvin, I mean it. I'll act on what you said."
Delvin smiled, his familiar friendliness returning, "Good. Now I'd best be off, the Guild needs a wizened face in these times." With that Delvin left, winking at Brynjolf over his shoulder as he disappeared into the night.
Brynjolf just stood there rigidly, the pregnant quiet of the night his only companion beside the restless hound at his side. Vigilance, who too had been suffering since Aria's injury, had come to a compliant calm and rarely left his makeshift bed at the end of the bed.
"We've some work to do boy," Brynjolf said softly, "She'll get through this."
A/N: So there it is, a little bit angsty and all but I think it's time I threw some of that in. Please tell me what you all think.