Chapter 2: A Chance Arrangement
Standing outside the gates of Solitude, Pru stopped. Her fist flexed in a nervous habit she'd had since a child. Reality finally dawned on her.
She stood for a while, listening to her breathing and the sound of a distant blacksmith and the wind whistling over the peaks. She listened to the sound of the horses in the stable and the buzz of the city behind the gates. All at once anxiety consumed her. She couldnt steady her breathing, she couldnt 't stop her mind racing.
She stumbled back a pace and another, until she found herself turning around entirely. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her whole body shook. The air that she was able to breathe was thin and useless, like it would suffocate her. She shrunk down beside a nearby rock and hugged her knees, willing herself to calm down. How had it happened that all of a sudden the weight of the world had fallen on her shoulders. Her fists balled in her hair and she shut her eyes.
For months now she had been living as though she were dreaming. Wondering through each world shattering, life ending moment to the next. Dragons, Dragonborn, ancient cults of dragon hunters? It should all have been only myths and legends.
This wasn't her life. She was an elf from Valenwood. Her parents were poor and they never settled in one place for long. Her father gambled and her mother drank and eventually they both ended up dead before their time. From then on she had been on her own. She travelled, made a little money as a mercenary, a hunter, a thief. She understood that life. It was simple, she didn't have to care about anyone else, if she messed up that was fine, she could deal with it. She always found a way to push through and carry on, but not this. This was too big. There were too many souls riding on her and until that moment it had seemed surreal. But now as she sat against that rock and cried and cried, she realised that the world could end and it would be all her fault.
That thought frightened her to her feet. She stood, still shaking and did the one thing she did best. She ran. She ran far away from the gates of Solitude, away from the Gray Beards and Delphine and the Blades. They would find someone else, they had to. She couldn't do this. She told herself over and over with each thud of her foot on the road, "You can't do it." It began a beat in her head, a mantra in an endless rhythm that she resighted with every stride.
She was unsure how far she ran and how long for, but the world was quiet and still in the wilderness, the mountains rising up on either side of her acted like a shield against the wind, their peaks turning to gold in the sunset.
She wondered then what would have happened if she had not come to Skyrim. If she had stayed in Hammerfell, would another Dragonborn be chosen? She stopped, her lungs burned for air and she longed to go home.
"If this is meant for me give me a sign, please!" She called out, her voice echoing over the rocky valley. She waited with baited breath on a sign from above. Maybe Talos would come down and give her a pep talk, or the ghosts of previous Dragonborns would guide her through but no answer came. Anger filled up in her stomach at the injustice of it all. Why had this fallen to her?
"I never asked for this! I never wanted to be the hero!" She cried out again. Still she was only met with the echo of her own voice. She yelled out in anger and threw a pebble at the sun set. It fell pathetically, so she screamed again and again until it came out in a shout that threatened to shift the mountains around her. She fell to her knees, her body and mind exhausted. It took a long time for the world to settle again after her Thu'um. When it did, she looked into the sunset, her hazel eyes like molten gold as the tears gathered in them. She was defeated. She could push no more against this tide of destiny. Fight or flight...
She dragged her body up onto its feet and took a deep breath.
"No." She said firmly, wiping the tears from her reddened cheeks. "No." She said taking a step forward and another until she was following the road again. She didnt know where it would take her, but wherever she ended up she would have a strong drink in her hands and forget that this whole thing ever happened.
"Give it up Brynjolf," Vekel said, "Our lucks run out, it's time to face facts."
Brynjolf eyed the bar keep as he took one last glug of his ale and shook his head.
"That's where you're wrong Vekel. My luck never runs out." He slammed the tankard onto the bar, picked up his casual overcoat and headed up to the surface.
"Never pegged you as a glass half full type!" Vekel called.
Brynjolf flashed his crooked smile before leaving the Ragged Flagon. He didn't miss the way Tonilia's eyes lingered on him as he left. He winked at her and she returned it with a sly smile. He knew she was sweet on him. He knew he was sweet on her. He would like to take her to bed but then he also knew that Vekel was entirely in love with the girl. So he left it at casual flirtations, nothing too dangerous so no one got hurt. It was how he liked to handle all of his business.
Brynjolf squinted his eyes as daylight poured into his vision. The graveyard was quiet, as it always was. So, Maven wanted Bran-shei taken out if the trading pool for good. He didnt know why, then again he didn't get to ask why, that's not how he got paid. He fidgeted at the stiff collar of his merchant get up, not used to itchy fabric. It was cheap stuff, he didn't want to over spend for the sake of playing a part.
The market in Riften was always the busiest part of the city. Even over the calls of fresh fish and vegetables and the best armour in Skyrim, there were people, like himself, who were doing their own dealings. Under the counter, slight of hand kind of dealings but none the less, they gave the market that edge that Brynjolf liked so much. Riften was a city that pulsed with life, real life. Even the way the sun bounced of the lake, or the the way the trees white bark shone like silver. Everything was alive and shining and his for the taking. He wasn't sentimental about it. He knew the ratways were a grim thoroughfare, and you were more likely to get knifed than to make it to the end of your journey, but learning to take care of yourself was all part of the Riften experience. Today was one of those days, he could feel it in his bones. The sun shone brightly and he felt alive.
He watched Bran-shei sell his wares and wondered what the poor bastard had done to feel Maven Blackbriar's wrath. He spared it no more thought and took up his place at the stand. He needed to get the dark elf arrested. That would surely put him out of business. He scanned the market and noticed Madesi at his jewellery stand. Brynjolf arched his brow as the idea came together, all that remained was how he was to get the ring into Bran-shei's pocket. He was good, but maybe not that good. He needed an extra pair of hands. Unfortunately all the others had either washed their hands of the job or were busy. He needed to find someone broke and stupid... or maybe just broke.
He scanned the market steadily, looking for any face that he didn't know. But in that pool he only saw people he knew. Other merchants, the adventurer and Bolli the fishery owner. None of which were suitable candidates.
He sighed and slouched into his stall, about to write off the plan altogether when suddenly the doors of the keep flew open and the guards threw someone out. The people in the market turned to look briefly but soon got back to their business. This was not a spectacle to the people of Riften. People were threw into the jail every day and got out just as frequently. He continued to watch because this was a face that he didn't know. He came out of his stall and moved closer to get a better look. The Wood Elf tumbled down the steps but found her footing before she reached the bottom. She stood up straight and pat herself down as if trying to save some semblance of her dignity. Brynjolf smiled at the sight.
"Take my advice, next time you plan on robbing Maven Blackbriar, try and do it sober." One of the guards called down to her. She was in the midst of plaiting her disheveled blonde hair but she paused and laughed slowly.
"If I wanted advice from a brown nosing little pissant I would have asked you, wouldn't I?" She said. The guard made to start on her again but was ushered away by his comrade. Brynjolf found himself chuckling at the exchange.
The woman turned her back on the keep and closed her eyes against the sun. She let out a contented sigh before heading towards the gate. It was then that Brynjolf made his move.
"Looking a little light in the pockets there, lass."
She wasn't sure where the red head had appeared from. She wasn't particularly focused on her surroundings yet, her pounding headache was making sure of that. He smiled at her as though he knew that he'd startled her. It was on of those smiles that made her mouth go dry and her heart stutter. Good thing she had a face for cards.
"Excuse me?" She asked.
He nodded to the keep and then to her, "I'm saying your pockets look as though they could do with being lined. People don't turn to thievery when they're living in the lap of luxury."
His line of questioning was confusing and his face was as impassable as her own. She studied him closely, her senses standing on end like they always did whenever she came up against something dangerous. His green eyes followed hers as she sized him up. He knew exactly what she was doing and that... irritated her. She gave him one last look up and down.
"I don't see how that's any of your business." She moved to walk away but he was quick and stood in front of her, blocking her path.
"See that's where you're wrong, lass. It's exactly my business. Perhaps you want a taste?"
She held his gaze a moment and felt her heart jump. Whether that was from the hangover or the way his eyes never left hers, she couldn't decide, but what she did know was that she had good instincts and they positively screamed bad news.
"Listen Red," she began, clasping her hands together. He smirked at the nick name but she continued regardless. "I have just spent the night in a cold, damp, rat infested prison. I didn't get a wink of sleep, given that my bed was a pile of straw on the ground, that and the wretched little man next to me wouldn't stop singing Ragnar the Red. I would sincerely like to find a nice warm bed to curl up in for the rest of the day and yet here you are standing in my way. So what ever dastardly little game you're playing, my hangover hasn't the time for it. Tell me what you want before I really lose my patience."
A smirk spread slowly across his face as he let the last words of her tirade settle into the buzz of the market.
"That's some mouth you've got there, lass."
She instinctively wet her dry lips but didn't miss how his eyes snapped to watch as she did so. There was that feeling again, like the air around them was electric. Her head screamed at her to flee, but something fixed her feet in place.
"I'll be straight with you then," he said, clearing his throat as he spoke again. "I have a little errand to run and need an extra pair of hands. In my line of work, extra hands are well paid. The way I see it you're either very stupid or very skilled to go breaking into Blackbriar manor, so you're just the kind if person I need."
She tried not to bristle at the fact he called her stupid. Her intelligence was one thing she would not have insulted. But he had piqued her interest and whether anything came of it or not, what had she got to lose. She made him wait a while longer as she pretended to think about it.
"Fine," she said eventually. "What do you need from me?"
His smile spread that bit wider, "It's very simple, I'm sure you'll be able to handle it."