The early morning sun invaded Maevyn's eyes as she and Brynjolf approached the sprawling building of the Honningbrew Meadery, making her squint as she read the sign hanging out front:
Honningbrew Meadery
Home of the Famous Honeyed Mead
"I've never had Honningbrew before. How is it?" Maevyn asked as they approached the front door, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight as she looked at Brynjolf.
"Some people say it's alright. I don't care for it too much though, too sweet. You know I like my ale dark,"
As he talked, Brynjolf took out his knife and knelt down next to the doorframe, scraping away at the weathered and greying wood as little shavings drifted to the ground in a tiny pile.
"That's a good idea," Maevyn said as she knelt next to him, examining the little symbol he had carved, "That's the one for protection, right?"
"Yes," he answered, sweeping the remains into his palm and pocketing them, "I didn't expect you to remember; last time you saw it was in that book when you first came to the guild," He stepped back, narrowing his eyes at the mark, assessing that it was substantial enough to pass as a gnarled knot in the wood to a passerby.
"You remember what we have to do, right lass?"
Before the sun shot its rosy streaks across the dusky sky, the two thieves entered Whiterun and went to the Bannered Mare, the local tavern in the city which Maven Black-Briar directed them to. In the empty tavern, it wasn't hard to find the grey-parlored Imperial Mallus Maccius, who was agitatedly chewing on a bread-half in the corner.
"Why are you bothering me?" the dark-haired man growled, glowering at the two nords who stood in front of him.
"Maven Black-Briar sent us. You have a task in store for Sabjorn?" Maevyn said, folding her hands as she sat across the table from Mallus, staring at him intently, trying to give off an air of professionalism.
"Ah," he said, immediately changing his demeanor when he found that the two were the key to the plan him and Maven had been scheming for months, "I apologize for my surly behavior. Never know who is working for who here. I am Mallus, and I work for Sabjorn in the meadery. Now, what I want you two to do is this: go to Honningbrew and offer to help Sabjorn with his Skeever infestation. Do whatever it takes to convince him to let you into the basement, where the nest is. He'll give you the poison, which you will put half of in the nest. After that, go into the boilery and put the rest of the poison in the vat on the left; it's the only vat on that side, so you shouldn't have any trouble finding which one. And make sure it gets done by this afternoon,"
"I see," Brynjolf said, shifting his weight to another foot, "Any particular reason why you're doing this? And why it has to be done by this afternoon?"
"You see, about half of a year ago, I lost a bet to Sabjorn and couldn't pay him, so I offered labor in compensation. He agreed, but has been abusing my offer for far too long, working me to the bone every day. Maven and I have a deal; I'll get to run the meadery when Sabjorn is gone. And as for today, Commander Caius of the Whiterun guard is supposed to be going for a tasting this afternoon. He needs to see that Sabjorn's skeever infestation is violating health code, and will take him away, hopefully, to jail."
"Makes sense," said Maevyn, "And so when Sabjorn is gone, you'll start converting the meadery to Black-Briar, correct?"
"Exactly so," Mallus said with a satisfied grin, "I'm glad you understand. Now hurry, I think you'd find it best to get this job done with as soon as possible,"
"Welcome to Honningbrew Meadery. Please, don't mind the mess here, I assure you all of my products are sanitary and delectable," a blading nord nasally addressed them as the two entered the shop.
Strewn about the room were decapitated and impaled skeever carcasses, blood spattered across the stone-flagged floor in dried and darkened smears, and an ugly and grotesque odor wafted throughout the room, making Maevyn involuntarily wrinkle her nose.
"Ah yes," Brynjolf said, sweeping his eyes across the gore, making it clear to Sabjorn that he was displeased with the state of the room, "My wife and I were looking to buy some food, but I see you have a slight problem…"
"Oh is that so?" Sabjorn sneered sarcastically, but quickly regretted it, "I apologize sir," he said quickly, watching as his first pair of potential customers of the day back up from his surliness, "I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that I'm very stressed. These damn skeevers have made my life a plane of Oblivion, and today is a very important day for the meadery."
"Why is that?" questioned Maevyn, bending over to examine a skeever carcass.
"The Commander of the guard is coming by this afternoon for a tasting, and if these skeevers show up while he's here, I'll be in a load of shit…"
"This is a problem," Brynjolf agreed, surveying the vermin-filled room.
"Perhaps we can help?" asked Maevyn, trying to look sincere as she batted her eyelashes at the slimy nord, hoping he would take the bait.
A dark cloud passed over Sabjorn's face, casting his features in suspicion as a frown fell upon his lip, "Why do you two strangers, want to help a man you owe nothing to?"
"Well," began Brynjolf a bit quietly, putting on a mask of humbled sorrow, "You see, my wife and I are in need of money. We have children at home, and another on the way," he said, wrapping his arm tightly around Maevyn's waist as he placed a gentle hand on her flat stomach, "Sir, we want to help you and earn a bit of coin for our family,"
Sabjorn seemed to think about the situation that was presented before him, rhythmically wiping the cluttered countertop with a yellowed rag, "You would send your pregnant wife in a disease-riddled hole?"
"I can handle myself," Maevyn put in, straightening her shoulders as she stared squarely at the aging man.
Sabjorn sighed, rolling his eyes, "Very well, here's the key to the basement, and the poison." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, directing the two to the back room.
"Children, eh?" said Maevyn as she playfully nudged her partner in the ribs with her elbow when they entered the back room, "What are their names?"
Brynjolf smiled, jabbing her back, "Well, Maria is the oldest, and then Orla is the trouble-maker. Then this one here," he said, poking her stomach, "is obviously Brynjolf Jr."
Maevyn laughed, "That was quick thinking you did. I thought I had ruined everything for sure when he hesitated,"
"Oh, it was nothing, I'm sure he didn't buy my story either. I mean, I would never send you down here if you were with child," he chuckled, looking at the ingredients that were labeled on the bottle of poison.
Maevyn laughed too, but real images of red-headed children raced through her mind as she thought of the fake life Brynjolf had created for them in sake of getting this job done. She saw herself and the man next to her strolling through Riften, hands entangled together as their three children ran ahead of them,
"Mama! Look what I found for you!" a young girl with navy eyes and dark hair ran up to her, presenting a handful of blue flowers, "They're blue, just like Papa's favorite color!" She turned to Brynjolf, tugging on his hand and leading them to the market where her two siblings were.
"Orla," Brynjolf said as he picked his daughter up, who was reaching up to a stall, groping for anything reachable, "You do not touch things that don't belong to you," He then placed the three-year old on his shoulders, looking around for the other two who had scampered away.
Maevyn smiled at what he had said, thinking it comical for him to say such a thing when he himself was a thief. "Dear, why don't you take Orla, Maria, and Bryn back home while I finish up the shopping,"
"Alright, don't take too long, love," he said before swiftly planting a kiss on his wife's cheek, "Don't forget the tomatoes," he added, trying to balance a squealing Orla on his shoulders as Maria and Bryn jumped around his feet-
"Maevyn? Hellooo," Brynjolf said, waving a hand in front of her face, "Are you okay lass?"
"What?" Maevyn jumped back, startled as she was pulled out of her fantasy, "Oh yes, of course. I apologize, I was just thinking of upcoming jobs," she lied, trying to cover her reddening face as she bent down to 'fix' a buckle on her boot.
Brynjolf smiled and chuckled, seeing right through her lie and attempts to hide, but didn't push the subject, "Aye, I was thinking we could go on a heist this time; those are always my favorite,"
"That sounds like an excellent idea. Now, let's get down to the basement," she said hurriedly, taking out the key and inserted it into the door that led to the basement.
Brynjolf and Maevyn stepped into the main room just as Sabjorn was leading Commander Caius to a mead barrel on the counter, smiling coyly as he told him about the new product, "…It's my new brew. I like to call it Honningbrew Reserve,"
Mallus Maccius joined the two, watching with delight as Caius filled his goblet with the mixture of poison and mead, indifferent to the slight green tint that floated in the amber liquid like dye.
"Sounds promising, Sabjorn. Maybe I'll order a few kegs for the Jarl," he trailed off, bringing his lips to the blue goblet.
After the poison-laced liquid passed his lips, Caius sputtered, spitting the vile liquid onto the floor, "SABJORN!" he roared, face growing red with rage, "I thought you said this place was no longer infested, and instead I get a mouthful of this shit! What, did you let those damn vermin piss in this?!" he grabbed the man by the forearm, dragging him towards the front door, "I'm closing your business, and you're going to rot in jail for health code violations,"
"What?" Sabjorn stammered, bringing his own liquid-filled goblet to his face as he stared at the contents, "This… this isn't my mead! I don't know…" he trailed off, trying to connect something in his beady mind.
"Let's go, Sabjorn," Commander Caius growled, pulling out his sword as he prodded the man. "You," he gestured to Mallus, "You're second-in-command here, right? You're in charge now," he said, towing a protesting and struggling Sabjorn through the front door.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Mallus's face split into the widest grin, "That went flawlessly. And you put the poison in the nest?"
"Yes, but I wish you had mentioned that man down there," Maevyn said a bit disgruntled, "He gave us a spot of trouble,"
"Well, didn't want you two walking out on the job. It was a necessary precaution, and everything turned out fine,"
"Yeah, fine…" Maevyn trailed off as she fingered a brittle, shortened section of her hair that had burnt off when a fireball brushed past her, "Anyway, what will you do now?"
"Well, I'll start converting it over to Maven. Turn this place into another Black-Briar Meadery. By the way, here's your payment," he said, sliding a large bag of coin down the counter towards Brynjolf, "I suppose I'll be in the area for a while, so if you need to sell some… questionably-attained items, I'll fence for you. Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked, clearing away the bottles of Honningbrew mead from the counter.
"Actually, you can," began Brynjolf, "We know Sabjorn had a private partner, and Maven wants to know who it is, so if you could direct us to where he kept his documents, everything will be in order,"
"Of course," Mallus said, "Maven always wants to know everyone's business. He keeps papers in his room upstairs. Here's the key. Feel free to take whatever you want."
Back in the cistern, Maevyn, Brynjolf, and Mercer hunched over the desk, looking over the promissory note the two had found in Sabjorn's dresser.
"This doesn't make any sense," groaned Mercer in frustration, "It doesn't lead us anywhere! There's only Sabjorn's name and someone named Gajul-Lei. And then this damn symbol!" The Breton slammed his fist down on the desk, expressing his anger at his inability to solve the mystery of the unidentifiable persons.
"It's the same symbol as the one on the Goldenglow bill of sale," Maevyn said quietly, hoping to calm the furious guild master and prevent him from having an aneurism.
"The lass is right," Brynjolf said, rummaging through the desk for the slip of parchment, "see?" he said, pointing to the marks as he found it.
"Very quick, Maevyn. This is more than a coincidence. We're playing a dangerous game now… Contacts, I need contacts… " he said absently as he dismissed them, rifling through sheafs of parchment as they left.
"Bryn, this isn't good," Maevyn said, biting her lip as her brow creased, "This man or woman is obviously trying to tear apart the guild by getting Maven Black-Briar to doubt us."
"I know, lass, I know. But there's nothing we can do about it now. Mercer is doing everything he can at the moment. All we can do is wait," he said, placing a comforting hand on her arm.
Maevyn sighed, looking down at her muddied leather boots, "you're right. Well what do you want to do now?"
"I was thinking we could have that house-warming party now," he said, smiling as he waggled his thick brows.
"Well," Maevyn said as she led Brynjolf and Vipir through the front door of Honeyside, "this is my home. And this is Iona, my housecarl," she said, gesturing to the sullen woman who stared icily at the two men.
Maevyn immediately saw that Vipir had taken an interest in Iona, watching him watch her as she stoically got up from her chair and stalked down the ladder to the basement, "Good luck with that, Vip, she's as icy as Winterhold," she mumbled to her friend, watching as his face grew red from embarrassment,
"Aw, you're adorable when you blush," she laughed, imitating the words he had often said to her when she grew the same way, making him join along in laughter. "Let's go outside," she said, shuffling along through the crowded room.
Maevyn was thankful to see that the evening sun was casting a warming orange glow across the lake, making the back porch inviting and relaxing.
"Wow lass," Brynjolf sighed appreciatively as he stared across the golden water, "this view is very nice,"
"Oh I know. It's one of my favorite aspects of Honeyside," she called over her shoulder as she dragged two chairs from the dining room through the door, "I love sitting out here in the evening."
"You two are going to talk about scenery when I brought this?" Vipir joked as he produced a dark blue bottle of Black-Briar Reserve from his bag, "Maevyn, you got some tankards?"
"Yes, hold on a moment," she laughed as she stepped inside. Going to the cupboard across the room, she paused, and then went back to the threshold to the basement, "Iona?" she called down, "do you want to join us? Meet my friends and have some drinks?"
"No thank you, my thane. I'd rather be down here," she called back up, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the underground room.
Maevyn sighed, feeling guilty that her roommate was uncomfortable with her best friends. Maybe she'll come up later… she thought, but soon forgot when Brynjolf called her to come back out, sending her stomach into an excited tizzy.
Throughout the night, the three thieves laughed and drank jovially, finishing the contents of the potent liquor. True, it was Vipir who had drank most of the bottle, but Brynjolf and Maevyn were still a bit disoriented after drinking a flagon or two of the Reserve, preferring the standard Black-Briar Mead. Vipir on the other hand, was completely out, slurring every sentence that tumbled out of his mouth.
Maevyn had to marvel at his ability to contain the contents of his stomach, ticking off the number of tankards he had on her hand, one, two… three, four, five, six… By the Nine, he's had seven tankards of Reserve, she thought in astonishment.
"Mayfen," Vipir said drunkenly, wrapping his arms around the young woman, "we should do thish erry night. It would be tonsh of fun!"
"Alright, Vip," Brynjolf said, chuckling as he removed a giggling Vipir from around Maevyn's neck, "I think it's about time you get home,"
"Okay, Bryn. Bye Mayfen. Thanksh for the drinksh," he slurred, trying to plant a wet kiss on her cheek, but was quickly intercepted by the red-head, who pulled him through the doorway as Maevyn laughed and followed.
"I hope he doesn't fall in the canal," Maevyn chuckled as the two stood by the front door, watching as their friend stumbled against the side of buildings.
"It'd certainly wake him up. Gods, I can't believe he drank that much," Brynjolf said, shaking his head in amusement.
The remaining two went back to the porch and settled in the chairs, gazing up at the inky sky above them. The silence that fell over them was not uncomfortable, but Maevyn was glad she was alone with Brynjolf now, aware that the butterflies in her stomach were now madly fluttering.
"Brynjolf," she began, a bit shy, "what are you thinking of?"
"I was thinking how perfect it is, here on the lake with the stars, especially with you," he added, turning in his chair to gaze at her.
Maevyn's face grew a ridiculous shade of red as he said this, staring down at her hands as she nervously chuckled.
"Brynjolf, what is this? What is this… thing that's going on between us? Do you like me? Or is it false? You keep me up at night, thinking what could be and what isn't. I want to know how you feel… What you said at Goldenglow, about never leaving and always sticking by my side, I don't want to think of it in a partnership way; I want to think of it romantically… It's confusing, because I don't want to think of you that way because you're my mentor, but then again, I do want to think of you that way because I'm developing a strong attraction towards you," she finished quickly, fearing her questions and confessions scared him. Her hand immediately went to her scar, slowly tracing it as an excuse to hide her blushing face.
"Maevyn," Brynjolf began, leaning forward and removing her hands, just like he did the other time. He held them tightly within his own, the warmth driving out the chill that had settled across the waters, "Maevyn, in truth, you drive me crazy. Everything about you does. Your attitude, your skills, how you act, your beauty…" he said as he brought a hand up to cup her face, "I'm crazy for you Maevyn, and I absolutely meant it when I said I would not leave you. I want to be with you for a very long time. But if you feel put off by this… then I apologize-"
The actions that overcame Maevyn then were instinctual, because she leaned forward, closing the gap between their faces, lightly bringing her lips to his, cutting him off as he tried to continue. The kiss was light, the flutter of a flickering candle as it was blown out. She wrapped her hands tightly around his own, pulling back to gaze questioningly in his soulful eyes.
She was met with a wild smile, "You, Maevyn, are truly an amazing thief, stealing ideas from my head like that," he said, chuckling as he stood up, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, kissing her fully and tightly this time, crushing his lips against hers.
A soft sigh escaped Maevyn's lips, sweeping over Brynjolf's face as he pulled back, "You know lass, ever since our first job, I wanted to do that,"
"Oh really now?" she said quietly, snaking her hand up to his face to run her fingers over the orange stubble on his jaw.
"Absolutely," he finished, leaning his forehead against hers.
"Bryn, I think it's time for you to go home too," she said, lifting her head to look at the rising moons.
"Very true, very true, let's go." he said, a sly smile spreading across his face.
As the two walked past the large bed pushed up against the wall, Brynjolf hooked his arm around Maevyn's waist and flopped back onto the bed, bringing her down with him as he theatrically yawned, "Wow lass, I'm really tired. Don't think I can make it to the door,"
"Brynjolf!" Maevyn laughed, struggling to get up as he pinned her with his muscular arm, "Bryn, come on. Fine," she said, trying to lace her voice with pout, "at least take your boots off if you're going to sleep,"
AuthorsNote: And here's the anticipated lovey-dovey scene with Bryn!
I know I said updates would be frequent, but inspiration for these scenes were tough. It is kind of long, which I apologize for, but at least it isn't a filler.
Thoughts? Opinions? What do you guys want to happen between Bryn and Maevyn?
On another note, I reached 1,000 views! Which is my first mile-stone (even if they are only views). My next goal is to get to at least 20 subscribers by the beginning of August:) That probably won't happen, but a girl can dream though, right?
Next chapter will bring a more serious talk with Bryn and Maev, along with some thoughts from Vipir:)
As always, comments and suggestions are always appreciated. I hope you have a wonderful day!