Hello, my friends! Happy 2017! I hope you all had a great New Year's holiday! Thank you so much for all the favorites and follows, and special thanks to Luthlien for the review! I hope you all enjoy Chapter 4 :)
Iris remains unconscious for nearly four days after Brynjolf finds her. He wants nothing more than to see those gorgeous eyes again, but her lids stay firmly shut. Though she did begin to mumble in her sleep. Hallucinations, Haran told him. But she never witnessed Iris's 'hallucinations' moving things.
Brynjolf is falling asleep in the chair when a rumbling shakes him awake. Scrambling to his feet, he draws his dagger, bleary-eyed, and hunts around the room for the source, ready to defend Iris. He never imagines the source would be the beautiful Breton asleep in the bed. He hurries to her side, his brow furrowed as her lips move, forming words he's never heard before. The ground quivers gently at her whispers; Brynjolf looks on in confusion and slight worry.
"Zu'u fen dreh nii. Zu'u fen krii rok," she mutters, the bed frame shaking.
"Iris." Brynjolf strokes her hair, touching her burning skin. The cloth on her forehead no longer cold, he takes it, intending to rewet it with colder water.
"Nid, lig. Zu'u vis dreh nii. Zu'u lost wah," she whispers, tears on her cheeks.
"Iris, lass." He touches her face, gently sweeping the tears from it. "Wake up. You're dreaming."
And something else, he adds silently.
But she doesn't awake from her fever-induced slumber, not even when the sun peaks over the snowy mountaintops.
This continues over the next few days, awakening Brynjolf from his state of half-sleeping to hear her muttering unknown words and to feel the entire room shaking. He always knew she was hiding something from him. When sharing stories about their jobs, she'd begin to tell him about some ridiculous journey she made only to stop speaking when he asked what she was doing there in the first place. "It doesn't matter," she'd wave it off. It always bothered him; he's told her nearly everything, after all, but he didn't let it get between them. But still…he always wondered. And now? After witnessing the strange words flowing from her lips and the rumbling of the ground? It's why he decides to find out for himself what she was hiding from him.
It's Iris's fifth day unconscious when he finally does it. Late at night, before she can even begin to form the foreign words, he slips over to her bag across the room. Feeling horrible, he slips a hand inside and rummages around, looking for anything that might explain her sudden proficiency for an entirely new language. He doesn't find much. Just the usual potions and lockpicks mostly. But hidden at the bottom of her bag, he finds two books. Drawing them out, he stares incredulously at the first one. The Book of the Dragonborn. Why would she be carrying that around? Carefully opening the book, he tries to read the pages in the low light. He finds little markings in the margins, circled bits of text, and notes. Confused, he peers closer, finding that it's the Dragonborn prophecy. Iris has underlined certain lines of the prophecy writing notes such as, "Need to talk with Paarthunaax about this" and "Dragonsreach?". Why would she need to write notes in a Dragonborn book? Unless…
Brynjolf shakes his head, shoving the errant thought away. There's no way Iris could be the Dragonborn. The Dragonborn is famous. He'd know if it was his best friend. He sets the book aside, moving onto the other book. Her journal, he realizes upon opening it. He flips through the pages, feeling awful about invading her privacy, but he has to know. There, the eighth of Morning Star.
I can't believe it. I still can't believe it. I came here to get away, not get entangled in yet another problem. And this problem…it's big. Bigger than anything I've ever known. Gods, why do you keep doing this to me?
I found out today that I'm the Dragonborn. It turns out that I'm the one who is supposed to stop the end of the world and defeat Alduin. Me. Only I can do it. Gods, it isn't fair. To put all this pressure on one person? I didn't ask for this. I came to Skyrim to get away and this happens.
The Greybeards called for me today. Shouted 'Dovahkiin' from the skies. I'm supposed to join them on the Throat of the World. I guess they're supposed to teach me the 'Way of the Voice'. Whatever that means. I'll go, sure, but I'm not promising that I'll help them with Alduin. I'm sure there's a way around it. There's no way I can be the only person in all of Nirn who can stop him. I'll write more after I meet with them.
Brynjolf stares at the page until the words begin to bleed together. "Gods damn you, Iris. How could you keep something like this from me?" He continues to flip through the journal, stopping when he notices she mentions him in one of the entries.
This man approached me in the marketplace today upon my first visit to Riften. He told me that I had all the makings of a thief. I didn't tell him that I'd already been one for most of my life. He enlisted me to help him in planting a ring in a Dunmer's pocket. I did with ease, and I was richly rewarded. He told me that there was a whole Guild of them, thieves, down in the Ratway below the city. He invited me to join them if I could make it through. Obviously, I did so with even more ease. My Thu'um grows stronger every day. I am officially a part of the Thieves Guild. I didn't tell them of my true nature, the Dragonborn. I do not want to be treated differently, though it is hard to keep such a big secret. But I am a master of lies and persuasion; I am sure I'll be able to keep my two duties separate. I leave for Goldenglow Estate today. I'll let you know how it goes.
He flips forward a few more pages and finds an entry from a few weeks ago.
It's getting harder and harder to keep my secret from Bryn. There's something about him that makes me want to tell him everything, something that makes me truly believe he'd understand. But…what if he didn't? I don't want my best friend to regard me as some kind of legend, hero, that I am clearly not. He tells me everything and I strain to do the same, but it's getting hard. He keeps asking me where I've been going after my jobs. How could I tell him that I was hunting for Dragon Priest masks or talking with the former Blades about how to learn the Shout needed to kill Alduin? I can't tell him, no matter how much I want to. I hate lying to him, but it's better than him leaving me. And, Gods, I'd never forgive myself if that happened.
Frowning, he flips to the entry from just last week.
I almost told him today. I was so close, but…I just couldn't. I don't want to worry him. I've already been avoiding the Greybeards, avoiding my destiny, I don't want him to tell me what I don't want to hear. And, Gods, things are getting difficult between us. I wish we could just say "To Oblivion with it" and become more than friends. We both know we want it, but…we can't do that to the Guild. And with this big, hulking secret between us, I'm not sure that becoming more than friends would work out. Honesty is the key for relationships, and if I can't even tell him of my true nature…I wouldn't be able to do it. It's already hard enough. We went to Honningbrew Meadery today to put it out of business. When we were down in those tunnels, I was so close to using my Thu'um. I've been using it so frequently, that I had almost forgotten that I couldn't use it around him. Gods, I want to tell him so badly. I feel horrible for keeping something like this from him, but hopefully, maybe, someday he'll understand. Or maybe, he'll just never find out. Maybe I'll die when I go to defeat Alduin. Maybe I'll tell Vex to tell him I've gone back to Daggerfall or something before I head out to kill Alduin. That way, he'll hold out hope that someday I'll come back. The world will be safe once more, and he will always know me as his beloved Iris. Not the Dragonborn.
"Damn it, Iris," Brynjolf mutters under his breath, flipping to the most recent entry.
It was Mercer. All along. He killed Gallus, not Karliah. I have to send word back as soon as I can, but it's nearly impossible for me to even move. The poison on Mercer's blade is unlike one I've ever seen before. Mercer has no doubt told the Guild that I'm dead…Gods, I can't think about what Bryn must have thought. I can't let myself think about it or I'll begin to weep once more. I've been praying to the Gods to give him peace and hope that I'm still here. I'll head back as soon as I can, but I have to deal with Gallus's journal first. Karliah said I should look for Enthir in Winterhold. I'll head there as soon as I'm well enough to travel. Maybe sooner, if I can convince Karliah otherwise.
And there, the truth finally laid out in front of him, Brynjolf shuts the journal and carefully places it back in her bag. Mercer. Of course. He always had an inkling that something wasn't all right with the Guildmaster. He supposes this explains the uneasy feeling he had the whole time Iris and Mercer were gone. And, of course, of all the things he thought she was hiding, being the Dragonborn was not even in his mind as a possibility. He wants to confront her with this newfound truth, but decides against it. He will let her tell him when she wishes. He looks to her still form as she begins to mutter words again in the Dragon tongue. Leaning next to her bedside, he strokes her long hair, softly kissing her forehead.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispers. "You'd still be my beloved Iris either way."
Iris's entire body aches, like she's been kicked in the stomach multiple times before her veins were filled with fire. She tries to open her eyes, crying out in pain as the burning sensation in her stomach rears its ugly head. She hears muffled voices, muffled footsteps, and she wonders if she's dead. But she thought there wasn't this much pain in death. Maybe she is dead, but cast out into Oblivion for running from her destiny. Maybe this is her punishment for not doing what the Gods required—endless torment and pain.
She feels her lips being parted before a cold liquid rushes down her throat. She coughs and sputters, gasping for breath as the fire threatens to take her back down into the darkness.
"Easy now, lass." The familiar voice sends a burst of light into her dark world, and she strains to find her way out.
Finally, her eyes force open, wide and unfocused, her mouth open in a silent 'O' as her back arches from the pain. Fire in her veins and ice on her skin, she shivers violently.
"Here, give her more of this," another voice bursts through her mind.
Her lips are parted once more and another liquid forced down her throat. Gagging, she tries to get away from the torrent of cold, but a hand cradles her head, keeping her in place.
"It's okay, lass. Just a health potion." Upon hearing the familiar voice, her vision finally clears, and she finds him kneeling by her side.
Her body immediately begins to shudder with sobs, her arms reaching out for her old friend.
"Bryn," her raspy voice cries as he envelopes her in his arms. "It was Mercer. He—he stabbed me, tried to kill me—I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything but watch—"
"Shh, it's okay. You're safe now," his voice hums in her ear.
"How—why are you here? Where are we?"
"We're in Winterhold. In the inn. I was coming here for a job when I found you lying on the side of the road." He pulls away, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You shouldn't have been traveling with an injury like that, Iris."
She hangs her head. "I know. But I had to hurry. It had already been eight days."
"Where were you?" Brynjolf asks her, his eyes searching her face, reddened with fever. "Mercer…told us you were dead."
"He did?" Her violet eyes begin to fill with tears once more, her small body shuddering with renewed cries. "Gods, I'm so sorry, Bryn."
"It isn't your fault, love."
"I know, but I—I can't imagine what that must have been like for you."
He says nothing, chewing on his bottom lip. He doesn't want to tell her how much despair he was in, how much he wanted to join her in the afterlife.
"But you're here now. Alive and well…kind of." His eyes sparkle with mischief.
"Mercer's sword was poisoned with something I've never encountered before." She winces in pain as she lays back down.
"I know. This Altmer has been trying to help, Enthir, I think his name is."
Her eyes light up slightly. Enthir. That's who she's supposed to give Gallus's journal to. But she tries to reign in her excitement. She doesn't want to get Brynjolf involved in all of this.
He notices her change and smothering of her recognition of the name.
"Tell me what happened," he insists instead. "Start from the beginning. Mercer said you went looking for Karliah?"
Iris nods weakly. "Yeah. We went to Snow Veil Sanctum. Supposedly, that's where Gallus was killed. Mercer made me lead. I didn't know why at the time, but now?" She glances down to her bandage-covered abdomen. "After killing tons of Draugr, we finally made it to one of those Nordic puzzle doors. You know, the ones that require the claw?"
Brynjolf nods. He's encountered some of those with Iris on their many journeys.
"We went through there and—" She takes a deep breath. "I was shot. Karliah shot an arrow at me. She had tipped it with a paralytic poison."
Brynjolf feels the blood drain from his face.
"I fell to the ground; I couldn't move, Bryn." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Mercer spoke with Karliah, told her that he was going to kill her like he did Gallus. But she got away…with an invisibility potion." She takes a shuddering breath. "He—he moved on to me. I—I couldn't do anything. H-he came at me, stabbed me. I-I thought—I thought—" She breaks off into sobs as Brynjolf holds her, gently stroking her hair and blinking tears away.
"I'm so sorry, lass," his voice breaks. "This is my fault. I should've gone with you."
"No." She pulls away, shaking her head. "No, he would've killed you, too. It's best if he doesn't know you know, Bryn."
"So, what, am I supposed to pretend everything's okay?" He shakes his head. "No, Iris, I can't do that."
"You have to. I don't want you mixed up in all this."
"Lass, I'm already mixed up in all of it."
"No. I don't want you to get hurt."
He scoffs. "What, like you?"
She opens her mouth to argue, but he cuts her off.
"Iris, I'm flattered that you care so much about me, but I'm in this whether you like it or not."
"Bryn, no. You can't get involved. He'll kill you."
"Like he almost killed you?" He sighs, taking her hands. "Lass, I thought you were dead. Mercer told us that you—you were killed by Karliah. I thought—I believed you were dead. I—" His voice breaks as he hangs his head. "I can't lose you again, Iris. I'm with you on this. I—I need to make sure you stay safe."
"Bryn—"
"That's the end of it, lass." He straightens up, releasing her hands. "I'll go tell Enthir you're awake. He'll want to ask you about your wound."
"Brynjolf." Her soft voice causes him to turn from the door. "I—" She pauses, meeting his eyes evenly. "I missed you."
A wide smile forming on his face, he strides back to the lass and envelopes her in his arms. "I missed you, too."
Woo! She's finally awake! And now, Bryn knows about her being the Dragonborn...hmm...
More drama and cutesy romance to come!
As always, please favorite, follow, and review! :)
