Chapter Thirty-Seven

An Honest Thief

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The Bee and Barb was still crowded when Brynjolf returned, and Delphine was still sitting at the bar. The thief caught her eye and motioned for her to follow him. He led her upstairs where he knew there was a table and chairs set in an alcove. It was out of the way and rarely remembered by the inn's patrons, even on a busy night like that one. They took seats facing each other, and Brynjolf regarded the blonde woman for a moment.

"Now, what's on your mind, lass?" he asked her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "First off, I'm not your lass anymore, Brynjolf, so don't even start."

He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I meant nothing by it, Delphine. You're not the only one who's moved on."

She seemed to weigh his words for a moment before getting back to the matter at hand. "I'm looking for someone," she said. "I was told that you might know where this person is."

"Oh? It's possible; I know a lot of people. Who?"

"The Dragonborn," she stated simply.

Brynjolf's eyebrows shot up. "The Dragonborn? Who told you I even have any sort of connection with this person?"

"I own the inn in Riverwood, so I hear a lot of gossip. Someone there said the Dragonborn visited her family a couple weeks ago, and that you were with her."

"Someone? You mean Gerdur? I wasn't aware that our visit was common knowledge among the village folk. And you own the inn? I stayed in that inn and saw neither hide nor hair of you the whole time."

Delphine sighed. "Bad timing. I was away on business that week."

"By the Eight," Brynjolf murmured, rubbing his eyes.

"You haven't denied knowing the Dragonborn," Delphine observed. "So can I assume you know her location as well?"

He looked up at her. "Even if I knew where she is, what makes you think I would tell you?"

Delphine frowned and leaned back in her seat. "I mean her no harm, I assure you. However, I can't tell you my reasons for wanting to contact her."

Brynjolf snorted and spread his hands, "You demand a lot, Delphine. So far I haven't heard what's in it for me."

"I told you I'm willing to pay for the information. I brought three hundred septims with me—it's not on my person, so don't even try to lift it from me."

"Sweet Mara, Delphine, now you're just hurting my feelings," he said, placing his hand over his heart. "Three hundred septims, eh? That's an awful lot of gold to be hauling half way across Skyrim, and a lot to pay for information too. You make yourself out to be desperate."

"I have my reasons," Delphine told him simply. "Do we have a deal?"

"Now that's a curious thing. You assume that because I live above the law, I'm willing to sell out my friends to the highest bidder."

She blinked at him, and Brynjolf couldn't help but feel a little smug. They hadn't parted all those years ago on the best of terms, she leaving him feeling like an ass, and in the end he wasn't sad to see her go.

"Come on, Delphine," he chided. "You won't tell me why you want to see her. You're being very mysterious, and I have absolutely no reason to trust you."

The woman blew a forceful breath through her nose in frustration. "Then will you at least give her a letter from me? An invitation to meet with me, let her decide for herself."

"Aye, I could do that. My delivery fee is three hundred septims, though." At her deep frown, he shrugged. "Take it or leave it, lass." She gave him a disapproving glare that was so familiar. No, he certainly had not missed it.

She stood up. "I'll go write the letter and get the money. Stay here, I'll be just a few minutes." Without waiting for his reply, she walked to the room she had rented and disappeared inside, closing the door behind her.

Brynjolf sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. What could Delphine possibly want with Irina? He didn't get the impression the two had previously met. He had never been able to fully trust Delphine; there had always been something about her that didn't add up. Even though it had been at least six or seven years since he'd seen her last, he still didn't trust her, perhaps even more so now than before.

Presently, the woman reemerged from her room, folded piece of paper in one hand, and leather coin pouch in the other. She set them both on the table in front of him.

"Promise me she's going to get this."

He stood up, pocketing the letter and hefting the weight of the gold to make sure it was all there. "Come on now, Delphine, what do you take me for?"

"I take you for a thief," she stated dryly.

"Aye, but I've always been an honest thief. She'll get the letter."

"Good."

An awkward silence descended for a moment as the two stood facing each other, business over with, and a lot of empty air between them.

Finally Delphine cleared her throat. "Well, I need to get back to Riverwood. I do have an inn to run."

"Take care of yourself, Delphine."

"You too, Brynjolf," she replied with a nod. She retreated back into her room, and Brynjolf left the inn, taking a roundabout way back to the cistern, in case Delphine tried following him.

He stopped to check on Irina, who was passed out on her bed, a contented smile on her face. He couldn't help but smile too. He gently moved a lock of hair from her face, touching the backs of his fingers to her cheek for a moment before heading to his own room. He tossed the coin purse and the letter onto his small table and sat down with a sigh. He stared at that folded piece of paper for several minutes before picking it up, feeling only slightly guilty for reading someone else's letter. He told himself that it was for Irina's own good. She was under house arrest in a way, and he had no idea what Delphine wanted with her. Brynjolf wanted to make sure he could deal with whatever it might be.

Dragonborn ~

I need to speak to you. Urgently. I believe we can help each other.

Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.

~ A friend

Brynjolf shook his head and refolded the letter. Delphine knew he would read it, and she didn't want him knowing what was going on. She also didn't give Irina much reason to follow through, other than out of an unhealthy sense of curiosity.

Still, there was a chance she would still decide to go. What could Delphine want with Irina? Was it possible she knew something about dragons? Would going to meet her cause Irina to want to head off on another personal adventure? Mercer would throw a fit. No, it was best for Irina to not get this letter right now. He would give it to her eventually, after things calmed down a little. It was for her own good.

He stuck the letter into one of his shoulder belt pouches, and was just about to stand up when a knock sounded at his door.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened, revealing Rune, who stepped into the room hesitantly. "Bryn? I was wondering if you had time to talk for a minute?"

"Hello, lad. I do, in fact." He gestured to the empty seat across the table from him, curious what the younger man wanted to talk about. Ever since Rune and Irina got together, the boy seemed to be avoiding him. "What's on your mind?" he asked as Rune sat down.

"I just…want to get a few things straight…about Irina, since I seem to be getting mixed messages."

Brynjolf arched an eyebrow. "Mixed messages?"

Rune nodded. "From you. You say you're not pursuing her, but I've seen things that say otherwise. Like tonight. You took her out for drinks?"

Brynjolf sighed. "She was lonely, lad. You were gone, and most everyone is avoiding her. She asked me to spend time with her."

"Fine, but that isn't the only instance. I want you to tell me the truth, Bryn. Do you have feelings for Irina?"

The older thief swallowed and glanced away for a moment. "I would be lying if I said no," he admitted. "I have almost since the first day I met her."

"That's what I thought," Rune said with a nod.

Brynjolf looked at him and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Look, lad, it doesn't matter how I feel about her; she chose you—not me."

"Did she?" he countered. "Sometimes I'm not so sure. I often get the feeling that she wishes she was with you, and that she's just stuck with me."

Brynjolf didn't know what to say to that. He sat back in his seat, his fingers absently picking at a splinter of wood on the edge of the table. Finally he did speak up. "I think that's something you need to talk to her about."

Rune sighed and rubbed his hands across his face. "Yeah." He stood up. "Thanks for being honest." He headed to the door, but stopped with his hand on the latch and looked back at Brynjolf. "If she decided to choose anyone other than me, Bryn, I would want it to be you." With that, he opened the door, closing it quietly behind him as he left.

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A/N: Sorry that one was so short. Again, it's been all I can do lately to get these out. However, I do feel like I'm starting to get back in the groove, and writing is getting a little easier again. Hopefully it's an increasing trend, and soon it'll be just as effortless as it used to. We're getting close to some very exciting and interesting moments in this story, and I can't wait to write them!