On the day of the party Brynjolf woke suddenly, chased by some dark dream he'd been having. It had been several days since the drunken game of strip jack, and nearly four weeks since he, Rune, and Elia had returned to Riften. As had become a habit, he ran his fingers along the nearly-healed scar on his scalp, pleased that it was healing well. You couldn't even see it, really.

He spent the early part of the day running various errands and responding to letters he'd been ignoring. Mercer was out of town, so he worked spread out over the guild master's desk, which afforded him an excellent view of the cistern. He watched guild members come and go, occasionally responding to their greetings. Taking a break from the ledger, he stretched and looked around, jumping slightly as he caught Elia staring at him from across the room. She quickly looked away and continued what she was doing, which looked to be polishing her bow. Vex approached and sat with her, pulling out her dagger and a whetstone. The two women chatted as they worked while Brynjolf watched, lost in thought.

Elia's success at Goldenglow had earned her quite a bit of respect from the other guild members. Vex in particular had come around to the Khajiit and they were often seen together in the training room, trading tips on archery and lockpicking. Brynjolf was glad that she was making friends. But he felt miserable that he was inexplicably not part of her day anymore, and often caught himself watching her morosely across the Flagon as she chatted with her friends. It further confused him because he knew she watched him, too. There was an undeniable tension any time they interacted. He respected her obvious wish to be left alone as much as possible, but when their paths crossed on guild business the air practically hummed with electricity.

For his part, Rune was still dropping hints and remarks on both sides. More than once he and Brynjolf had almost come to blows, because Rune didn't know when to stop. Elia's reaction to Rune's prodding was to ignore it entirely, though Rune noticed how her ears perked up at the mention of Brynjolf's name.

Finally evening arrived and Brynjolf returned to his room to get ready. He shed his guild armor and instead donned a pair of dark pants and an open collared linen shirt. He scrubbed his face and neck at the basin and ran a hand through his hair. Satisfied, but feeling unaccountably nervous, he left his room and entered the Flagon.

The Flagon was almost unrecognizable. Tonilia and Sapphire had strung lanterns across the ceiling and pushed all of the tables and chairs along one wall. It was cleaner than Brynjolf had seen it in years. Food was piled on a long table, and lined along the bar were a variety of casks and bottles for their drinking pleasure. He wolfed down a quick meal and promptly poured himself a large drink.

Brynjolf was never one for large gatherings and he felt distinctly awkward tonight. Since he was one of the earliest to arrive, things were still quiet. He had no doubt that the party would get more raucous and crowded as the night wore on. After a while Rune sauntered in and settled next to Brynjolf, looking him up and down.

"Well, you look lovely, Bryn."

"Shut it."

"I'm just saying!"

"Well, try not saying anything."

Just then, Vex entered, followed closely by Elia. Trying to look unfazed, he felt heat bloom in his cheeks as he drank her in from across the room. She wore a loose-fitting grey blouse and a dark green skirt that sat high on her waist. His eyes lingered on the way the fabric gathered at her hips for a long moment before he tore them away and downed the rest of his drink. Rune eyed him knowingly and rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to say hello, care to join me?" he asked pointedly, getting to his feet.

"No." Brynjolf replied shortly. With a shrug, Rune crossed the room and took Elia by the elbow, steering her to the bar.

"You look amazing." he smiled. Elia waved her hand at him.

"I feel awkward. Vex insisted on dressing me up." She plucked nervously at her shirt. Still smiling, Rune pressed a glass into her hand.

"I know someone who appreciates Vex's efforts," Rune teased.

"Don't, Rune."

"Just talk to him, Elia." Rune pleaded, no longer teasing. "You're hurting him." He added in a whisper. Elia guiltily glanced at Brynjolf, sitting alone in a dim corner, clearly trying to look anywhere but in her direction. She felt a gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach as she surveyed him. He looked more handsome than usual, she thought. Her emergency haircut had grown enough where it didn't look uneven; it suited him. She could follow the line of his broad shoulders beneath his tunic. But his eyes, usually intense and searching, looked dully out across the Flagon. She turned away, eyes downcast. Rune sighed.

"You're both idiots," he mumbled, and left Elia to rejoin Brynjolf. She wandered over to sit with Vex and Tonilia.

Soon the Flagon was crowded with members of the guild. Most of them were already drunk. Delvin and Dirge disappeared momentarily, returning with a drum and a fiddle. After a minute of tuning, Delvin struck up a tune on the fiddle and Dirge accompanied him. There were cheers as the center of the Flagon cleared and Tonilia dragged Vekel out to the dance floor. There was stifled laughter as Niruin bowed flamboyantly to Sapphire, then a shocked silence as she took his hand and followed him to dance as well. Everyone clapped and cheered as the song ended and the dancers bowed. Even Brynjolf cracked a smile. Another song began and Sapphire laughed as both Thrynn and Vipir tried to steal her away from Niruin.

Rune winked at Brynjolf and got to his feet. His stride confident, he approached the table where Vex and Elia sat alone.

"No." Elia said immediately.

"Who's asking you?" Rune shot back. Her mouth dropped open in shock as he turned instead to Vex, taking her hand and pulling her bodily to her feet. Laughing, he pulled her out to dance despite her vehement protests. Elia laughed loudly with the rest.

Brynjolf couldn't take his eyes off Elia as she laughed merrily and clapped along to the music. His face felt hot as he got to his feet and made his way to the bar for another drink. He could feel her eyes on him, but when he glanced her way, she looked elsewhere. Feeling more irritated by the second, he leaned his back against the bar and sipped his drink, not bothering to hide his gaze as he stared across the dance floor at the Khajiit. He watched in annoyance as Cynric sidled up and joined her at the table. The good-looking Breton tossed back the rest of his drink and stood, offering his hand to Elia.

Brynjolf felt his heart drop into his stomach as she sheepishly accepted his hand and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. What is this? He asked himself. He turned away from the dancing couples, unable to bring himself to watch as that idiot Cynric led her laughing through the dance. I don't understand. He ran his hand through his now-short hair in frustration. His fingers trailed over the nearly healed scar that ran across his scalp. Everything was going great until… until I almost died. He considered the idea. We went straight from our first kiss to me nearly dying. That's when her whole demeanor changed. What does that mean?

The song ended and Elia returned to her seat, slightly out of breath. Making up his mind, Brynjolf set down his glass and strode over. Elia looked up at him, startled.

"Dance with me." he demanded. She glanced away.

"Bryn, I-"

"Dance with me." he repeated firmly, reaching for her hand. He heard her gasp slightly as he gripped her hand, but allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. There, not caring about the eyes he could feel watching them, he trailed his hand around her waist and to her lower back. He applied firm pressure, bringing her closer as he entwined his fingers into hers. His eyes never left her face. Her hand trembled slightly as it found its place on his back, and then the music began.

The beat of the music matched the hammering of his heart. Having her this close to him, in front of everyone, guiding her through the steps of the dance- a fast jig, one he'd danced to many times as a younger man. They were soon out of breath. He could feel her relaxing into his arms, letting him lead her. He shut everything out except the rhythm of the music and the feel of Elia moving with him.

Too soon the song trailed off, the dancers slowing and moving apart. Brynjolf let Elia move slightly away from him, but didn't release her from his grip. He could feel the warmth radiating from her in the small space between them. Does she sweat? He thought wildly, the implications of the idea making his stomach lurch painfully. As if reading his mind, Elia suddenly met his gaze, her silver eyes piercing him. There was something unreadable there.

"Again." he breathed. She said nothing, just maintained her stare. Delvin's fiddle began again, more slowly this time. He knew this song as well. Brynjolf pulled Elia closer, matching her intense stare with his own. Again he guided her to the music, pressing himself against her. She didn't fight him, instead lending her own weight to their movements. A slow smile unfurled across his face as the music trailed off, and Elia slowed with it, thinking the song over. Instead of dwindling off, the fiddle kicked up again faster than before. Laughing despite himself, Brynjolf lifted Elia slightly off the ground for a split second, twirling her around to continue the dance, their feet moving faster and faster in time with the music. His heart skipped when he heard a laugh burst forth from Elia and they finished the wild crescendo of the dance grinning at each other.

They were both startled as applause sounded. They'd been so wrapped up in the dance, and each other, that they hadn't noticed they had an audience. Brynjolf and Elia bowed sheepishly and pointedly ignored Rune's wide grin from across the room.

"Let me get you a drink," Brynjolf said, still not releasing Elia's hand as he led her to the bar. They both took long draughts of wine, still panting slightly from their dance. Watching her fan herself as she drank, he gently took her arm again. "Come on. Let's get a little air." She started to protest but he silenced her with a look.

They stepped out of the Flagon and into the Cistern. It was much cooler here, and seemed overly quiet after the bustle of the party. Elia sighed in relief.

"It does feel better. Thanks." They stood silently, feeling more awkward by the second.

"You're a good dancer." Brynjolf offered.

"Oh, I just followed your lead," replied Elia. "I'm not familiar with Nord music. It's lovely, though."

Brynjolf rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"You look… lovely… tonight." he said quietly, watching Elia intently. She said nothing for a moment, then took a deep, slightly shaky breath.

"Bryn… I don't know what to say."

He pounded a fist against his thigh in frustration.

"Say something! Say… you don't care for me, say… you're embarrassed of me… give me some reason!" He threw his hands in the air and paced in front of her. "It drives me mad. I see you every day and I can't touch you. You leave and I can't stand not knowing if you're alright."

He turned to face her. She'd drawn her hands up over her mouth, watching him with those inscrutable silver eyes.

"I'm crazy about you, Elia. Why cant you just…" he sighed in frustration, losing steam. "What is it that you're so afraid of?"

Something moved behind Elia's eyes, and suddenly they were full of tears. Distraught, Brynjolf moved to comfort her.

"Lass, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I shouted." He lightly grasped her forearms, pulling her to his chest. She buried her face there. After a long moment she mumbled something he couldn't understand.

"I didn't hear you, lass." Brynjolf said quietly. Elia sniffed and looked up into his face.

"I'm afraid." she said simply.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid… of everything." she spat. "Afraid of myself, afraid of my people. Afraid of letting down the guild." she disengaged from his arms. "Afraid to dream, afraid to feel." now she was pacing, her ears laid flat against her skull. "I'm afraid to care about anyone. I'm afraid I'll hurt you. Afraid you'll hurt me!" she nearly shouted. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm… sick of being afraid." she breathed.

Brynjolf closed the space between them in an instant, taking her into his arms and pressing his mouth hungrily against hers. Elia responded eagerly, letting the taste of him drive the dark clouds of doubt from her mind. After a long moment their lips parted and they pressed their foreheads together, their hot breath mingling.

"Nothing's perfect, lass. But it's a shame not to try." Brynjolf whispered. Elia smiled in response and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of their kiss. He's right, of course. I need to try and… let go.

"I want to try." she whispered back.

"You can start by dancing with me again." Brynjolf teased.

And so they returned to the party, and danced together for the rest of the night, oblivious to everyone else.

Author's Note: I had originally hoped to take this story a bit further, but I started a new job that is going to take up most of my time. Someday, I would like to finish Elia and Bryn's story, but I am happy to end it here. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. I have a couple of Dragon Age stories on the back burner I want to start posting before long.

For anyone interested, the songs in this chapter are by The Gloaming. The first one they dance to is Repeal of the Union, and the slow song is called The Booley House :)