Author's Note: Hi friends! I am chipping away at the last few chapters of the story! Looks like it will end up being a nice round 20 chapters after all. I'm also working on a longish Dragon Age one shot that I hope to finish soon. AND I'm trying to prep for NaNoWriMo. So I am staying very busy and writing a LOT. I hope you are all well and enjoy the chapter. The next one is my favorite that I've written so far, so I'm excited! See you next week.

They stayed in the cave for three days, letting Brynjolf get his strength back and waiting out any search parties that may have been sent out for them. Once they left their hideout they headed East to Dragon Bridge, where they were able to hire another carriage. Their journey back to Riften was uneventful, but subdued.

Elia was having strange dreams again. They were usually the same: the man in the golden dragon mask. Only, he was speaking to her now, in a language she couldn't understand. The words shook the very air as she cowered at his feet. He reached out to her with hands that burned her skin. Sometimes she dreamed she wore the mask. It was too heavy, and crushed the air out of her lungs. The dreams were not new, but they seemed to grow in power as they crossed Skyrim's countryside. She was thankful when they neared Riften.

By the time they arrived, Brynjolf's wound was healing nicely. Elia couldn't get used to his short hair, even though she'd cut it herself. He seemed self-conscious about it, constantly rubbing the back of his neck. Rune, surprisingly, refrained from teasing him about it. He also hadn't said a word about walking in on them at the inn, for which they were both grateful. Brynjolf, not wanting to rush Elia, was keeping his distance. She seemed lost in thought most of the time, and Brynjolf often caught himself watching her as she stared off into the distance. When they did speak, it felt clumsy and forced. It was a relief to get back to the Thieves Guild, where the bustle of activity around the Flagon and Cistern could cover their awkward silences.

Everyone made a fuss over Brynjolf upon their arrival, exclaiming over his wound and laughing at his haircut. He ruffled his hair sheepishly and stole a look at Elia, who hovered silently at the edge of the Flagon. As his eyes caught hers she looked away quickly. He realized she'd been staring. His feelings of confusion deepened.

A week passed, then another. Brynjolf's confusion turned to frustration as Elia continued to avoid him. He would approach her at meal times, only for her to excuse herself, smiling anxiously. When he asked Rune's advice, none was forthcoming.

"I dunno, Bryn. She's a complicated lady." was all he had to offer. The only thing Brynjolf could think to do was give her space. He caught himself watching her almost constantly, drawn to her any time they were in the same space. Mercer had her out on her own now, running odd jobs around Riften for Maven Blackbriar. He waited up at night to make sure she came back to the guild safely, and couldn't sleep on nights Mercer had out late.

It was one of these nights, three weeks after their return to Riften, that he sat in the Flagon, getting thoroughly drunk. Elia was off on a job at Goldenglow and wasn't expected back before dawn. Rather than lay sleepless in his room Brynjolf had started drinking just after dinner, joined shortly by Delvin and Rune, who were themselves on the way to drunk.

"I couldn't believe the haul you three brought back from Solitude," Delvin slurred. "Shame you nearly died, Bryn, but I haven't seen that much gold in a year." Brynjolf grunted in response and drained his drink. He'd been trying not to think about Solitude if he could help it. He poured himself another glass of mead.

"Would have been an excellent trip all around if not for the last bit." chuckled Rune. He reached out and ruffled Brynjolf's hair and received a dark look from Brynjolf in return.

"Well, I says to Mercer, what's the point of having all this gold if we can't enjoy it?" Delvin said, oblivious to Brynjof and Rune's exchange.

"What d'you mean, Delvin?"

"I mean a party! I told Mercer we needed a boost in morale." He banged his tankard on the table. "I couldn't believe it, but I'm pretty sure I talked him into it."

Rune raised his eyebrows. "Mercer, throwing us a party? Is he ill?"

"Said he'd provide half the booze. We've got to hunt down the food and the rest of the drinks, but I'll take what I can get." Delvin laughed. Rune seemed excited by the idea, but Brynjolf continued to sip his drink morosely. After a while Delvin produced a pack of cards and the three thieves played late into the night.

They were still at it when Elia pushed the door to the Flagon open. She was starving; her nervousness about the Goldenglow job had kept her from eating a proper meal all day. Everything had gone perfectly, however, and she wanted to celebrate by stuffing her face with as many sweetrolls as she could find. She made to walk across the bar to the storeroom but stopped dead in her tracks.

They're… they're naked! She thought wildly, her mouth dropping open in shock.

Spotting her, Rune pointed and cackled, pounding his fist on the table. At second glance she realized with some relief that they weren't naked, but they were in various states of disrobe. Their armor and various underclothes lay scattered around the table.

"What in Oblivion is going on here?" she cried. Delvin joined in Rune's mad laughter, slopping ale down his front as he doubled over. He still wore his guild armor breeches, but nothing else. Rune looked to be the most clothed, though he still lacked his armor, boots, and gloves. As if drawn by a magnet Elia rested her eyes on Brynjolf and felt a hot flush explode in her cheeks. He was naked from the waist up, lounging comfortably with his bare feet propped upon a chair. His face was split in an amused grin. She quickly averted her eyes.

"Never heard of strip Jack, lass?" he called.

Rune struggled to stop laughing and gestured to the empty chair.

"Join, us Elia, come on!"

Elia flapped her hands at them. "I want no part in… whatever this is."

"Come on, girl. Have a drink at least!" said Delvin.

"Yeah, come tell us how your job went," Rune pressed. Elia wavered. With a sigh she crossed the bar and took the empty seat at their table between Delvin and Rune. Delvin passed her a tankard and she took a large gulp, pointedly avoiding everyone's gaze.

"All right, spill. Guessing it went well, since you're here in one piece." Rune poured the others another round of drinks. Elia nodded.

"Yes, no real problems. I'll fill Mercer in first thing in the morning." She took another long swig.

"Nice work." Brynjolf said. Elia stole a glance at him. He sat upright now, elbows on the table. Her eyes drank in the way the light from the fire reflected onto his chiseled chest and stomach and silhouetted the rounded muscles of his shoulders. He met her eye with a look of dark amusement. Nervously she downed the rest of her drink. Delvin was dealing a fresh round of cards.

"No, don't count me in," Elia said, making to stand. Rune caught her arm and pulled her gently back to her seat.

"Just a few rounds," he slurred. "You're at a major advantage here. We're all thoroughly drunk, and you've still got all your clothes."

"I don't even know how to play." Elia protested lamely, sitting again.

"It's simple," Delvin explained, doling out the last of the cards. "Keep your pile facedown. We each flip a card into the center. When you see the jack, reach out and snatch it. Whoever gets it decides who strips."

"Sounds simple enough," Elia murmured, sipping her second drink. Her head was swimming a little already. I wish he'd quit looking at me, she thought to herself, feeling Brynjolf's eyes on her again.

They began the round. Starting with Delvin they took turns tossing cards onto the center of the table. After a couple of turns around the table they all were watching intently, twitching slightly at every card that revealed itself. Finally the Jack appeared and quicker than lightning they all darted for it. Their hands closed on nothing as Rune proudly flourished the card in front of them. With a noise of disgust, Brynjolf crossed his arms.

"All right, girlie. You first." Rune teased. Scowling, Elia kicked off her boots.

The next round went to Delvin, who also picked Elia. She tossed her gloves to the side, chagrined that even drunk the thieves had quicker hands. Determined, she hardly blinked through the next round, and was rewarded when her fingers snatched the Jack from the pile. The others cheered her and poured more drinks. She singled out Rune as her victim, laughing as he struggled out of his overshirt. Another round. This time the card went to Brynjolf. He pretended to consider Rune and Delvin before grinning wickedly, pointing at Elia with his winning card.

"Go on, lass."

With a shrug, Elia loosened the buckles on her cuirass and lifted it over her head. She still wore a thin leather jerkin over her undershirt, and beneath the undershirt, linen binding. Her mind starting to feel fuzzy with drink, she estimated she'd have to lose four more times before revealing anything embarrassing. Not going to happen, she told herself firmly.

Rune again took the next card, this time picking Delvin. The old man cackled and shucked his pants, sending them all into gales of laughter as he did a jig in nothing but his underclothes. Brynjolf took the next round. His head nodded as he squinted between Rune and Elia. He tossed the card drunkenly in Elia's lap. Unsurprised, but slightly annoyed, she shrugged out of her jerkin, shivering slightly.

Delvin and Brynjolf were both clearly past the point of rather drunk, and were quickly slipping into extremely drunk. They both fumbled the next round pitifully, leaving Elia the winner. Calling herself a fool for drinking on an empty stomach, she finished her third drink as she surveyed Rune and Brynjolf. Rune was waggling his eyebrows and motioning to Brynjolf, who merely squinted across the table at her. Frustration welled in her mind as she thought of the last few weeks, of trying to avoid Brynjolf while forcing down her feelings about him. It wasn't working. She thought about him all the time. Feeling suddenly reckless, she flung the card at Brynjolf.

"Pants." she said tonelessly. Rune and Delvin howled with laughter, but Brynjolf didn't crack a smile as he got to his feet, staggering slightly. He met Elia's eyes as he steadied himself, and there was something she couldn't read there. She watched with a dry mouth as he slid the leather pants over his hips and to the floor. Beneath he wore low slung cotton breeches. Her eyes trailed over his angular pelvis before he sat again clad only in his smallclothes. The laughter died down, Rune and Delvin wiping tears from their eyes. Delvin got to his feet and raised his tankard to Elia.

"Cheers! Best night I've had in years. I'm off to bed." he drained the drink and slammed the tankard down. Not bothering to dress, he gathered his clothes and staggered off to bed. Rune fell into fresh laughter watching Delvin shuffle away in his underwear.

"Alright, then. To bed with us as well." He chuckled after a moment, gathering his and Brynjolf's clothes. "Goodnight, Elia." Taking his friend by the arm he guided Brynjolf down the hall to his bedroom, tossing his things in after him. Elia heard Rune exit the Flagon. She staggered to her feet, realizing that she herself was quite drunk, and gathered her own clothes.

As she shuffled past Brynjolf's bedroom, he called out to her.

"Elia, wait."

Against her better judgement she poked her head inside. Brynjolf was sprawled across the bed. Seeing her, he gestured to the small desk across the room. Upon it was a platter with a slice of bread, cheese, and some fruit.

"You haven't eaten." he said. She shook her head. "Go on, then."

Her hunger overwhelming her nervousness at being in the same small room with a nearly naked Brynjolf, she sat at the desk and began to eat. After a moment she snuck a glance at him. He was watching her, smiling slightly. She turned back to the food, blushing, and didn't look away until the platter was empty.

"Thanks." she said, rising unsteadily.

"You… don't have to go." Brynjolf said quietly.

Elia met his gaze.

"I… can't, Bryn." she whispered, backing away. "I'm sorry."

And then she was gone. Hurt and confused, Brynjolf eventually drifted off to sleep alone.