AN: I would like to clarify why I am not posting new chapters every day.
I make many silly mistakes. I have, what I call, writer's dyslexia. I'm very harsh on myself when it comes to grammar and silly mistakes. I like to read, reread, rereread, rerereread, rererereread, and then rerererereread to correct stupid mistakes I always make. Especially when I'm tired and I typically write my stories at the end of the day when I am exhausted. Also, it helps to have more stories I'm able to edit before publishing to avoid plot holes. I always get agitated with any and all plot holes in other stories, and I would never get over the embarrassment of a plot hole or inconsistency in my own story that I could have avoided.
I am very excited for you all to read and learn more about Rosie! I hope I don't let you down.
I have included one of my other favorite characters of Skyrim in this chapter, someone I hope you all will enjoy and won't hold a grudge against because of his view on the civil war. This character does not reflect my view of the war (I'm saying this as if I need to make a serious political stance to avoid "controversy" lol).
The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is property of Bethesda Softworks. I own nothing but Roseleigha. Thank you for allowing my words to have the privilege of your time.
The Seer and Her Thief, Chapter 5
Brynjolf awoke, startled by the unfamiliar surrounding as he tried to recall last night. Not the first time I've done this, he thought. He remembered talking to Roseleigha about Rune. He must've fallen asleep once he thought she did after refusing to answer his questions. He looked to the end table next to him and found a letter.
B,
I'm not waiting for you to wake up. I'll be out doing business. Meet me at the stables when you're ready to leave for Volskygge. If you aren't there by sun's height, I'm leaving on my own and don't bother coming after me.
-R
He smiled at the familiarity of the whole situation: waking up in another woman's bed, trying to figure out what happened the previous night, and left alone in the morning with a note. He rushed to get up and out of the cistern before she left without him. He knew he'd have to answer to Mercer with a blade at his throat if the new recruit had gone off on her own and possibly never return. He grabbed his pack that he had already prepared the night before and left the woman's bed.
He went over to check on Rune, who was already up and sitting at one of the tables inside the cistern.
"How are you feeling?" Brynjolf asked, worried for his friend.
Rune simply groaned in reply and shook his head. "Have you seen Rosie- I mean Roseleigha yet today?"
"No."
"Please tell me she hasn't left for Volskygge yet," Rune look up at Brynjolf with fear in his eyes.
"She's waiting for me at the front gates." Brynjolf saw Rune relax, then began searching his pack for something and pulled out a small satchel.
"Will you give this to her for me?" he asked, a soft tone in his voice and eyes.
Brynjolf took a peek inside the satchel. "These are all alchemy ingredients, lad. Is she an alchemist?"
Rune laughed. "She has plenty of talents, my friend. Just give it to her; she'll know what it means." Brynjolf nodded, shook the other man's hand, and left the cistern.
As soon as he opened the gates of Riften, he saw the blind thief waiting for him next to dark-brown horse with red eyes glowing as if blood was flowing through them. He saw the Black Hand marking on the saddle of the horse.
"Is that…" Brynjolf asked, trying to hide his shock.
"Yes," Roseleigha responded, flawlessly hopping into the saddle. "He's mine though. Get your horse and let's get going already. I want to be in Whiterun by sundown."
"Alright, lass." Brynjolf grabbed his horse which he usually took pride in, but next to the hellish beast, his horse seemed like nothing more than a foal.
Roseleigha paid no mind to Brynjolf or his horse as she began to ride away from the Riften gates. She was hopeful that they would run into no trouble along the way. She had already mapped out the best way to Solitude.
They rode in silence until she made a turn for Ivarstead. "Hang on, lass." He said, making her stop. "Why don't we make our way to Windhelm? It'll be shorter and easier."
"We're not going that way." She said, still not bothering to look in his direction.
"And why not?"
"It's in our best interest to avoid that path. Unless you want to go near Bonestrewn Crest."
He began laughing. "Oh come on now. That place? What, are you really listening to those dragon rumors?"
"Those aren't rumors, Brynjolf." She began going down the path to Ivarstead, scarily serious in her determination to stay away from the place that allegedly had a dragon roaming around.
Those dragon rumors are just that, right? He thought to himself. There's no way she's seen one. I mean, she's blind, but still. He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the woman call his name, making him send his horse into a trot in order to catch up with her.
Once they began to make their way to the side of the Throat of the World, Brynjolf finally spoke. "Have you really seen a dragon?" She remained silent. Brynjolf couldn't read the expression on her face. It was like she didn't even hear him.
Finally, she nodded. "We're going to be arriving at Helgen soon."
He felt goosebumps rise on his skin and his blood go cold. He dreaded to see what had happened to the deserted town.
A few hours later, they arrived at Helgen. Roseleigha dismounted her horse, whose name he learned was Shadowmere, and picked the gate open. Brynjolf lost feeling all over his body once the whole village revealed itself to him.
Everything was burned down. It seemed as if small fires still lived inside collapsed building. The stone walls were crumbling, burnt corpses lined the stone paths and hid under fallen house roofs. He saw Roseleigha shudder as they made their way through the little hamlet.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, but unable to hide the emotion in her voice.
"What happened here? Did a dragon actually destroy this place?"
"Yes. I was here." The strength in her voice returned. Her face, though, was somber. She scanned the village, as if reminiscing. "It was horrible. If this was my first time experiencing something like this, I wouldn't believe it, either."
"What do you mean, 'if this wasn't your first time'?"
She bit her lip, seemingly frustrated she let the words slip from her mouth. "Never mind. We need to keep moving unless you want to run into bandits."
They moved through the ashes of the former happy, small village. Brynjolf wanted to get out, fast; the eerie sounds of only their horses' hooves shook his bones. But he respected Roseleigha's signs that she didn't want to leave exactly yet, and he couldn't understand why. She muttered something under her breath as they reached a large open area in the middle of the town, perhaps the town square.
The sun was setting as they had barely reached Riverwood. Brynjolf's horse was exhausted from the long day of walking, and he didn't blame her; he hadn't been riding her in a long, long time. A frustrated sigh came from Roseleigha's lips.
"We'll have to stop here," she said regretfully. "I was hoping we could pass this place as quickly as possible."
"What? Got some other little lover boys in Riverwood now, lass?" He smirked as he saw an unconscious snarl rise upon her face. Somehow, every expression she made only increased the magnitude of her beautiful features.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't have any lover boys here," she growled.
"I'm not so sure that's true, lass." Brynjolf watched as he saw a blond Nord rush from the village walls.
"Roseleigha!" he yelled, rushing up to her. "What are you doing here?" The man's eyes wondered to him, "And who is this?"
Roseleigha dismounted Shadowmere, briefly hugging the man. "It's good to see you again, Ralof. My associate and I are just passing by," she said with a plain face. "We need a place to rest for the night; our horses are exhausted."
"Aye. Come to the inn, Delphine has missed you."
Brynjolf dismounted his horse, allowing the man named Ralof to take it to his house where there was plenty of hay and resting area for the two steeds.
Once the pair entered the inn, they were greeted by a burly Breton. "Roseleigha!" she said. "What are you doing back here? Is there another-"
"Delphine," Roseleigha suddenly interrupted. "I'd like you to meet my associate, Brynjolf. He and I will be renting out a room."
Delphine nodded, seeming to understand why she was interrupted. Brynjolf looked between the two women, trying to read the situation. This new friend of Roseleigha's was just as unreadable and intimidating.
The two women lead him to a small room inside of the inn. Roseleigha dropped her pack to the floor, excused herself from the room, and went to chat with Delphine. What could they be talking about? he asked himself silently. How does she know all of these people?
Once Brynjolf was about done settling in, he heard the room's door open. "It's about time you finished your girl talk with that Breton, lass," he said, expecting it to be his partner. He was met with the blond Nord man from earlier. "Can I help you?" Brynjolf asked.
"What do you know about Roseleigha?" Ralof suddenly asked.
"Sorry, lad, but I don't see how that is any of your business." Brynjolf replied.
"Don't try playing stupid with me. Why are you here with her?"
Brynjolf took a moment and pretended to think; the simple warrior's face told him everything he needed to know. He laughed to himself, ready to be entertained.
"We're just here on a little trip," he said with a playful smile.
The blond curled his lip into an attempted hidden snarl. "A little trip?" Ralof asked.
"Aye. She was going on about a really small town she missed. Guess she spent some time here, but got bored real fast and went running after a man wouldn't quit chasin' her." Brynjolf had to restrain himself from bursting into laughter when he saw the expression of the other's man's face.
"I've heard enough!" Ralof stormed out of the room and left the inn, Roseleigha emerging from another room right as he stomped his feet out the door.
"What the hell did you do?" she asked, ready to sack him in the face.
Brynjolf threw up his hands in defense. "Hey, what makes you think I did something? We were just having a nice little chat."
She threw him against the wall, pinning him down with a knife ready and at his gut. "I swear to Talos, if you continue to meddle in my personal life, you will be hurt, Brynjolf. Don't. Mess. With. My life."
Brynjolf mocked a hurting face and put his hands over his heart. "Your words hurt me, lass. I'm not sure how I will go on."
He could see the frustration on her face and began to regret his words. No woman has ever sent him into fear like this girl had. Surprisingly, she let him go.
"Fine," she said, picking up her pack and walking out the room. "I'll let you pass for now."
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked to her back.
She looked over her shoulder back at him, a teasing expression on her face. "Did you really think I'd sleep in the same room as you? Have you forgotten what I said already?"
He scoffed and smiled at the words she has said a few days ago, still fresh in his mind. "Aye, forgive me for forgetting."
She began laughing; the first time he had ever heard a sincere laugh from her. "I've already forgiven you once today, Bryn."
He smiled to himself as he settled into bed for the night.
The next morning, he woke up peacefully. He had slept very well last night, but the morning quickly turned sour. As he sat up in his bed, he shot up and backed against the wall from a small frostbite spider in his room. He was ready to throw his dagger at the bastard, still having sleep in his system, before he took a closer look. It was nothing more than a dog dressed to look like a frostbite spider. He took a deep sigh of relief and grabbed his clothes. When he was about to leave, he noticed a note hanging on the wall from a dagger right above the head of the bed he was just sleeping in. He was astounded by whoever did this.
B,
I lied. I haven't forgiven you.
Here's some sweet revenge. I'll be waiting at the northern gate.
-R
Blast that clever girl all the way to Oblivion. He neatly folded up the note and put it into his pack where the previous morning note was and headed out of the inn.
