A/N: Many hugs to Biff McLaughlin for taking time out of her busy life to clean this chapter up for me lickety-split. Who loves ya baby? Thanks to Zute for the laughs, and for inviting me to her wedding ceremony in Riften. Vilkas is a lucky man indeed. I'm sure we'll all have a blast!

And thank you guys for reading this story. The alerts and favs I've received have been just thrilling for me. As a result, I think this story will be quite a bit longer than I first imagined it would be. Every comment is cherished like the finest of wines. Thank you all so much.

When dreaming I'm guided to another world
Time and time again
At sunrise I fight to stay asleep
'Cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place
'Cause there's a hunger, a longing to escape
From the life I live when I'm awake
So let's go there
Let's make our escape
Come on, let's go there
Let's ask can we stay - Creed

Best Laid Plans

For once, the Dunmer had earned his pay spying for Mercer Frey. Tythis Ulen had alerted Mercer when Natasja and Brynjolf were nearing the Riften Stables. Mercer took the opportunity to blend into the dark shadows and sit on a tree limb to observe them. They unpacked the horses and paid the stable owner his fee without much ado, until a dog, of all things, began barking and running circles around them. Mercer assumed it was a stray at first, but Brynjolf bent over and roughed up the dog playfully. Then the Nord girl did the same and the hound knocked her to the ground, licking her face as she laughed.

A bloody mongrel. That's what they bring back?

As they gathered their belongings, he heard the Nord girl laughing, almost giggling, at something Brynjolf had said. Brynjolf moved closer to her and grabbed her by the arms, spinning her around and embracing her from behind. Then he buried his face in her hair, and Mercer saw the girl turn her head to look at Brynjolf before she broke free from his grasp. She threw her arms around his shoulders, and they spent the better part of two minutes kissing.

Mercer smirked as he pondered the new development. Well, well, the Nord girl caught him. What a foolish man, to fall for the drifter. Foolish, but predictable. Bringing her into the fold may very well be the best thing Brynjolf's ever done for me. She'll be an excellent distraction when the time comes, if she sticks around that long. I'll have to keep my eyes on her anyway. She's smart, maybe too smart.

For a short time, he watched them from his perch, watched as they touched each other familiarly, their hands roaming over each other's bodies without a care in the world. They threw their packs over their shoulders, and like a true gentleman, Brynjolf carried the heaviest load. She couldn't keep her hands off him, though, and Mercer felt a pang of resentment for the closeness they seemed to share. Not that he had any interest in the Nord girl, but he certainly appreciated how advantageous it was for Brynjolf to have a woman at the ready whenever the urge struck, instead of having to buy the favors of the local women. Enjoy her while you can, Brynjolf. He slipped away over the walls of the city and headed for the Cistern.

Yes, Mercer Frey's plan had fallen into place quite nicely.

"Maybe we should keep our… involvement on the quiet," Natasja said as they left the stables. "I don't want anyone to think I'm getting preferential treatment."

"You'll get no preferential treatment from me, lass. We're all equals in the Guild."

"Still, I don't think Mercer will be happy about this. I don't want him to make things difficult for you." She turned and whistled to the dog. "Come on, Merc!"

"I've known Mercer for over twenty years. He's a grumpy bastard, but he'll not get involved in my personal life that way."

"If you say so, Bryn," she said with an incredulous lilt.

"I have a feeling Mercer will have more to say about Merc than anything else he learns tonight."

Natasja grabbed Brynjolf from behind and hugged him tightly. "I want you all to myself today, like a special secret."

"I guarantee you every single thief in there is going to figure it out, and fast." He kissed the tip of her nose. She felt the restraint rumble in his chest as he smiled. "And for those who don't figure it out, remember, you are sharing my room tonight and that will not go unnoticed."

"What a bunch of gossips. I think you all need to get out more often," she said, slapping him playfully. "Speaking of which, do you think Mercer will allow Vipir or maybe Rune to go with me to shake down Gulum-Ei?"

"Mercer understands about safety in numbers. I'm sure he'll agree to it." He stopped at the entrance to the cemetery and he considered her with a searching gaze. "May I ask why you mention those two?"

Hm, is that jealousy I hear in his voice? You don't want make a commitment, but you don't want anyone else to have me either? "Well, I know Vex and Del have no interest in travelling, and to be honest, Vipir and Rune seem to be more adventurous. They have also been particularly attentive to my needs, and they've trained me more than anyone else has, including you."

"That's hardly fair to me, lass. I run a Guild and it does keep me busy." He looked at her for a long moment, waiting for her to recant. It didn't happen. "It is, however, a fair assessment of Vex and Del. But you may find yourself with a small battle on your hands. I wager Vipir and Rune will both want to go."

"Then I'll let you choose."

"Oh no! I'll not get involved," he said as he led the way to the Cistern's secret passage. "You'd best have a first choice so there are no hard feelings."

"You are my first choice."

"Aye. That would be my choice as well, but not this time." He climbed down the ladder and caught the dog in his arms. "Now, let's go and give Mercer the news and then set about to having a celebratory night."

Natasja tied up the dog out of clear view thinking it would be better to assess Mercer's mood before introducing the two. The Cistern was unusually vacant when they arrived. The other members were, no doubt, deep into their third or fourth drink at the Flagon already, given the hour of the night.

Mercer was at his desk, thumbing through the ledger when he rolled his eyes up to see them. "What's the news from Whiterun?"

Why do I hate this man so much? Oh right, because he's an arrogant jackass. Natasja handed him the note, and after Mercer read both sides, he let go a short laugh. "No surprises here. I knew Gulum-Ei would resurface sooner rather than later. That sneaky lizard needs to be taught a lesson."

"I agree," Brynjolf said.

"And do you also agree the Nord girl is capable of this job?"

"Absolutely. She handled the job in Whiterun almost single-handedly." Arms at their sides, Natasja intentionally bumped Brynjolf's hand with hers. "I was there primarily as an observer," he said, pinning his eyes on her. Gods, she doesn't quit.

"Are you capable of another trip, girl?"

How dare he keep calling me "girl" in such a reproachful, degrading manner? In all her adult years, she'd never been addressed that way. Natasja's eyes narrowed, but she nodded, like an obedient apprentice. "Very capable."

"Good. I've had just about enough of whoever is meddling in our affairs with Maven. Go to Solitude and make sure Gulum-Ei tells you the person we really need to take care of. Make sure he understands he needs to be available to us also. Under no circumstances are you to kill him. He's still on the inside at East Empire and he'll be a valuable fence in Solitude." Mercer's head dropped and he continued to flip pages randomly. Then, as an afterthought, he spoke again. "Take anyone you want with you. Anyone except Brynjolf. And take that mutt with you too."

Brynjolf's knuckles touched hers as they both made a fist. "Will do, Guild Master, Sir."

Mercer recognized the strain under her flippant tone, the tension hiding behind her casual posture. Hadn't she learned to mask her own fears and uncertainties? Novice. He scowled but let it pass.

As they walked away from Mercer, Brynjolf leaned toward Natasja and whispered, "I can see we're thinking the same thing."

"How can you stand him?" she whispered back. "That bastard spied on us at the stables."

"Aye. And what do you make of that, lass?"

"Not sure. But I bet Delvin will have a theory or two. Something doesn't add up where Mercer is concerned."

"Maybe he wants you all to himself," Brynjolf teased.

"Tch. No, I think he dislikes me, and quite a lot."

"Chin up, lass." He put his hand on her shoulder and grasped it, the way a mentor might if he were about to ask his young protégé a very important question. "You still want to go to the Flagon with me and boast about our spoils from the trip, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she said with a curious expression. "I'll untie Merc and then we can introduce him to his new family."

Once they were center stage at the Flagon, they were greeted with cheers and slaps on the back.

"And look who it is," Delvin said, not bothering to get out of his chair. "The daring duo returns."

"How are you, Del?"asked Brynjolf.

"Pleased as punch you two are back." Delvin motioned to Vekel for another round. "Things have been duller than a sack of hammers around here."

"Well, feast your eyes on this, my friend." Brynjolf placed the Honningbrew decanter on the table with a smug grin.

"Now that is one lovely lady," he said, talking to himself as he admired the present. "Where did you find this?"

"The lass nabbed it for you, from the meadery."

Natasja smiled proudly when Delvin winked at her. "Nice of you to think of me, Nat. It'll fit right in with my collection."

"And nothing for me?" Vex asked. "I can see you know who needs buttering around here." She eyed Brynjolf, and then sauntered off as Natasja stared at her blankly.

The dog nosed Natasja's knee then, as if waiting for his introduction. "Hey, Del. This here is Merc." The dog was drooling at the sight of the salmon on the table, and jumped up to snatch it from Delvin's plate. With a long and sloppy lick around his jowls, Merc set to slobbering all over Delvin's leg.

"Well, ain't he a fierce lookin' hound." Delvin leaned back in his chair as if waiting for the punch line to the joke.

"He's still in training," Natasja defended. "Don't make fun of him."

"I'm surprised Mercer didn't have you throw him back out."

"Mercer seemed… distracted," Brynjolf said. "What's he been up to while we were gone?"

"I'm not sure. He did come and go an awful lot. Said he had business meetings to attend and people to talk to. Wouldn't elaborate."

Brynjolf sensed Delvin was holding back on his assessment of Mercer's behavior. He'd speak with him privately another time, and far away from the Cistern. "Natasja is leaving for Solitude tomorrow, and I'm going to keep a close eye on Mercer for the next few days. I get the feeling he has a plan."

"It'd be nice if he let us in on it. Maybe it's high time he retired and let you run things from now on, Brynjolf."

"No, no, I've no interest in that job."

Natasja slapped her thigh and called to the dog. "Come on, boy. Let's go see who wants to travel with us tomorrow."

Brynjolf sat down with Delvin, distracted by thoughts of Mercer.

"So?" Delvin said with a friendly smile.

"So what?"

"Tell me about your trip with Nat? Is she as wily as I think she is?"

Brynjolf laughed. "Wily as a fox."

"I just knew she was. But be careful, Brynjolf. Women are the worst kind of distraction."

"Give me some credit, Mallory. She's not a distraction." Brynjolf stared at her as she returned his gaze with calm eyes. Inclining his head, he continued to watch her, much to Delvin's amusement.

"You're far gone, Brynjolf, gone like yesterday's news." Brynjolf pretended not to hear Delvin's quip. "And did you learn anything about her? Anything pertinent to the Guild, that is?"

"That's for her to say, not me." Natasja was sitting close to Vipir and had her hand upon his arm. Brynjolf cursed the flip his stomach did. He wanted to drag her out of there and back to his room, to claim her as his. He pushed the thought aside, but it had already insinuated its way into his consciousness, and he couldn't refute it.

"So who's she taking to Solitude?"

"One of those poor unsuspecting thieves sitting with her."

"I'd go if I thought she was available for the taking," Delvin said.

Brynjolf 's head snapped around, incensed for a split second, until he realized Delvin was simply trying to get a rise out of him. Delvin was quite proud of himself in that moment. "Again, it is for her to say who she does or does not want."

"Right. All I'm goin' to say is that you're a lucky man, old friend."

"Aye. Lucky indeed." Brynjolf left Delvin with nod and walked to the table where Rune, Vipir, and Natasja sat.

"What do mean you don't ride horses?" Natasja asked Rune. "We'll have to hire a wagon for Solitude then, and it will take longer." The exasperation in her voice made Rune bristle a little. Natasja smiled sweetly then. "No matter, Rune. What's another day gone from the sewers, right? We'll have a relaxing and fun time, me and you."

"I have to admit I'm excited to spend some time with my sister in crime." Vipir snorted and placed his drink down with a thud, and Rune couldn't resist ribbing his friend. "I think someone is a bit jealous."

"Bah. You go have your fun," Vipir scoffed. "I'll be right here taking it easy in the lap of luxury."

Brynjolf stepped closer to the table and put his hand on Natasja's shoulder. "Be careful if you have to fight at her side, Rune. She's a bit reckless with her sword arm," he said forcing a serious tone. "Stand in the wrong place at the wrong time and you'll end up a very dead innocent bystander."

"Now that's a downright lie, Brynjolf! Take it back before you actually do become one of the walking wounded," she threatened with a punch to his arm.

"Maybe I'll tell them about the skeever venom fiasco."

"You mean how I saved your ass? Go ahead and tell them. As long as I come out smelling like a rose, you can tell anyone you want."

"Another round!" Brynjolf shouted to Vekel, and then he leaned over and whispered in Natasja's ear. "One more drink and then back to my room with you. I have plans for you tonight and passing out drunk isn't part of them."

"Come on, Bryn! Spill already!" someone shouted.

"Yeah, don't keep us in suspense," Vex deadpanned.

"So there we were," Brynjolf began, "surrounded by a dozen skeevers when a venomfang launched at me and attached itself to my leg. The damn beast was a big as a mammoth and it took me down to the ground. You should have seen Natasja in action, her blade flashing like lightning as she tumbled across the ground. She slew them all in fewer than ten seconds. I swear it."

As his version of what happened in Whiterun continued, he praised her skills and spoke of her courage and talent for sucking venom from a wound. It was impossible not to see the admiration he held for her. They all saw it, and now they all knew. He had been right. There was no hiding their relationship from this group. So be it. And now that it was in the open, she couldn't help but want the end of his tale to come immediately.

"And here we are, alive and ready to thieve another day." Brynjolf slapped Rune on the back with a hearty laugh. "Natasja and Rune are setting off on their own adventure in the morning. Hopefully she won't have to save Rune in a similar fashion." Rune was wordless at the thought, but then everyone laughed as the last sips of mead were drunk and the gathering began to break up. The thieves departed in various directions, some drunk, some eying Brynjolf knowingly, but overall, most were just plain tired.

Brynjolf hustled Natasja back to his room. On their last night together, he kissed her again and again leaving her almost breathless. They tumbled onto the bed, where they tore at each other's clothes until all the significant bits were exposed. With moans of passion, his greedy hands roamed over her body, needing to feel every inch of her. She, in turn, explored his body with her mouth and her hands, eagerly touching every part of him until they made love, fast and frantic, both needful of release. They rested before the second time. Then it was slow, and they savored every moment, every sight, sound, taste, and touch of each other before resting in each other's arms.

They lay together naked and entwined. Neither of them slept for a long while, not wanting to waste one second of their final hours and minutes together. When he felt her shiver as she began to doze, Brynjolf insisted she wear his shirt.

"You're taking care of me again," she observed.

A corner of his mouth quirked up. "As much as you'll let me."

Tears stung her eyes as she nestled close, as close as she could get. This was what she would miss most, the quiet companionship in the night, the knowledge that she wasn't alone. Her lips parted as sleep began to claim her. "You're a good storyteller, Bryn, but next time, can you brag about me just a little bit more?" Brynjolf smiled up at the ceiling as he heard her voice disappear into sleep.

"For you, anything," he promised her softly, and kissed her cheek. "Anything."

Natasja and Rune had set out before dawn, and she didn't wake him, damn her. Brynjolf awoke to a quiet room and an empty bed. The shirt Natasja had worn was folded and placed next to his head, as a reminder he assumed. He brought it to his nose, breathing in the fragrance of her skin, soothing vanilla and cinnamon. Missing her so soon was not the way he wanted to start the day.

He was nothing if not practical. His first order of business was to speak with Mercer and try to get a feel for his plans. Then he would review the strategy to hit a few of the newer and richer inhabitants of Riften. Normally, these tasks would carry him through the day happily. With Natasja gone, he had an idea time would drag on, but she would only be gone for a few days. He could handle that, right? He sighed. "Right," he said to himself. "Buck up and tough it out, Nord."

Days passed, but Brynjolf was no closer to understanding Mercer's motivations, and it frustrated him to no end. He had thought Delvin would have more insight, but what he offered were mixed clues with blanks needing to be filled in. They didn't know who Mercer had spoken to, where he went, or why. Delvin mentioned Mercer had gone into the vault a few times, claiming to be reviewing plans and counting coin for investment purposes, but insisted Delvin not accompany him. Delvin had no choice but to comply. Brynjolf and Delvin agreed to check out the vault at some point when Mercer was absent, but that option didn't seem to be on the horizon as Mercer hadn't left the Cistern the last five days.

Just after sunup on the sixth day, Brynjolf strolled in after an extremely successful hit on a large mansion and saw Natasja and Rune standing in front of Mercer's desk. Mercer looked completely stunned. Brynjolf approached them, and although he was having a hard time containing an exuberant smile, he paced forward stern-faced and caught the tail end of the conversation.

"Gods damn that Dunmer!" Mercer blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Good to see you two are safe," Brynjolf said, his eyes smiling even if his lips weren't. Natasja's face lit up as well, but he silently indicated they should remain stoic. "What's going on, Mercer?"

"It's Karliah. That murdering bitch is back," he sneered. "She killed Gallus and now she wants to do the same to me."

"She is behind this entire mess? I honestly thought Karliah would never turn up again." Brynjolf was visibly stunned, and Natasja couldn't help but wonder about his past relationship with Karliah. "What are you going to do?" he asked Mercer.

"Where the end began. That's where I'm going. Snow Veil Sanctum." He looked at Natasja intently, his eyes studying her face as though he were trying to solve a riddle that puzzled him. "And you're going with me, girl."

"Me? I have nothing to do with this!" Natasja protested.

"Mercer, if anyone is to go with you, it should be me." Brynjolf stepped around the desk and pinned Mercer with a glare. "Think about it, Mercer. I know Karliah's tactics as well as you."

"Absolutely not. You need to stay and run things. The girl has proven herself a worthy sword arm and I no longer question her skills. We leave at first light tomorrow."

"But she just returned, Mercer. Surely someone else is capable of-"

"My decision is final, Brynjolf! Now, all of you leave me. Do what you must today and meet me at the stables at dawn, girl."

Natasja turned on her heels and marched off toward Brynjolf's room without looking back. He followed with clenched teeth, his mind reeling. Once inside his room, she threw herself on top of his bed.

"Just what in bloody blazes did I do to deserve this? Here I thought as a member of the Guild I'd be robbing people blind, not babysitting the Guild Master on some revenge trip."

"Good to see you too, lass." He sat on the bed next to her and stroked her hair as she tried to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry." She put her arms up around his neck and relaxed, all at once grateful that he was now holding her. He clutched her tightly, yet gently stroked her hair, and she heard his heart beating as her ear rested against his chest. "I've missed you, Bryn."

"Have you? Well, I have been busy, but…." He didn't want to admit to her how many times he'd thought of her every day she was gone, how her face was all he could see in between every task, during every stroll through town, even as he stared at his food. In the morning, she would be leaving again, and rather than burden her with unnecessary anxiety over his concerns, he opted to hold her and whisper soothing reassurances. "Don't worry about the trip, lass. Mercer will have you back as quickly as possible."

She raised his hand and pressed his palm against her chest, her heart. "We should do something fun today. How about a picnic? I can buy us some food and wine and we can take our horses for a ride away from here."

"A simple, old-fashioned picnic somewhere in the countryside? That is a wonderful idea," he said smiling. "Let's meet at the stables in about two hours. I have a few things to wrap up first."

"I assume you know of a place with grass and trees and ants and… privacy?"

"I do. It's a beautiful spot. You'll see."

They both stood and for a long moment, he caressed her. He kissed her neck, her cheek, and then her lips, kissing her with deep, drowning kisses. She thought she might scream if he didn't touch her bare skin, so she drew her face away.

"I better go, lass, before I turn my thoughts into deeds."

"Save those thoughts for this afternoon, Bryn."

"I'll see you in a little while," he said and turned to go, leaving her standing there, her expression hopeful and sad all at once.

An hour later, Natasja sat up against a column near her horse. She had borrowed a quill and inkpot from the stable keeper, and was writing in her journal to release some stress over her pending trip with Mercer.

My thoughts are a bit scattered today mainly because I'm concerned about travelling with Mercer tomorrow, but I'm also thinking of Brynjolf. My lover, Brynjolf. I don't know what he sees in me, but I'm done trying to figure it out. I'm waiting for him at the stables, waiting to see him coming toward me with those rugged good looks and hard muscles and attentive fingers… oh my, I'm flushed now. I thought it was appropriate to write in the exact spot where we were both brought to our knees when he first kissed me. A moment I'll never forget, even if the rest of that night didn't go very well. I have to admit the thought of him often makes me giddy, and giddy is not a feeling I ever had before meeting that thief. Imagine me, a vicious and deadly warrior, as giddy as a child? Sometimes I wonder who I've become, how he has changed my life in such a short time.

I can't shake the funny feeling about the trip with Mercer though, but I won't bother Bryn with those thoughts. How will I sleep without him by my side? Solitude was lonely enough, even if Rune was more fun than I thought he'd be. I guess I'll have to imagine Bryn's hands on me, his breath in my ear, his lips on me. Gods, give me strength. I really should just come out with it and tell him. I sometimes think he is rarely surprised by anything that comes out of my mouth, but I hope he will at least act surprised by my admission today, that is if I get the nerve to say it.

Oh, and here he comes now. Gods, he's a glorious sight. To know his smile is for me, his teasing and his unwavering faith are for no other but me, fills my heart with a peace where none existed before. Perhaps someday he will settle down as a husband and father. Dare I hope to be the lucky woman? A foolish dream perhaps, but one I wish for.

I should end this and enjoy our time together. Now he's hovering over me and trying to peek at my writing, the naughty man. Damn it Bryn, you made me smudge the ink when you kissed me just now. I can hardly form coherent thoughts now. I just scolded him for pestering me and he's pouting as he saddles our horses. That is one vision I'll take with me to Irkngthand, along with so many others.

Of course, I'm far too scared to say it out loud. He probably doesn't feel the same for me anyway, or maybe he does and he is as fearful as I am. I honestly don't know. Last week I told him the Cistern was my home now, but that wasn't quite true. He is my home. Wherever he is, be it in a stable or in a snowstorm, Bryn is my home. I'm in love with him. I know this to be the truth with my whole heart and soul. There. I confessed it. Should anything happen to me, I pray the Gods don't let him dwell over what could have been. I want him to live well, to live for me and his brothers and sisters of the Guild. They will always need him, as do I, no matter the distance between us. Gods, if I don't stop writing now, I may start crying instead. And I'm sure I'll be back in his arms soon and I'm worrying for no reason at all. All right. Time to go.

"Finally done then?" Brynjolf held out a hand and hoisted her to her feet.

She stuffed the journal in her pack and strapped it to Saturnalia's saddle. "Would you mind if I kept my journal locked in the chest in your room? I don't want to risk losing it."

"Not at all. Although I'll make no promises should I find myself bored and longing for your return."

"You wouldn't dare read it without my permission… would you?"

"I'm only kidding. I do have some honor you know."

They mounted their horses and took to the hills, going at a slow and easy pace affording them the chance to converse.

"Bryn?"

"Yes, lass."

"Is Karliah really as dangerous as Mercer said?"

"She will be a tough adversary, but I have no doubt you two will prevail. Mercer is a relentless tracker and a highly skilled fighter. You'll be safe with him, don't worry."

"But still, she's survived all these years with Mercer hunting her down."

"Come on now, no more of this talk. Time is wasting, and I have the perfect place in mind for our picnic."

"All right, all right. Lead on, thief."

After about fifteen minutes, Brynjolf pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted. "Here we are, lass. Isn't it lovely?"

A small grassy plain with outcrops of rock surrounded them. The wildflowers were just about at full bloom and framed the field, and the river rippled in the distance.

"It is beautiful, Brynjolf. Do you come here often?"

"No, I haven't been here in years." He looked toward the river, a melancholy expression of his face.

"Fond memories I hope?" Natasja knew his thoughts had drifted to Anabel, and she wanted to reach out and pull him to her, but allowed him a solemn moment of remembrance instead.

Natasja spread out a blanket and took out the cache of food from her bag. She had brought some figs, a wheel of cheese, and a large honey cake. They ate and drank a little wine, talked of her trip to Solitude and the mischief she and Rune had made there, and then they relaxed with Brynjolf's head resting on her lap as she stroked his hair.

"It occurs to me that you haven't told me any stories of your past lately," he said. "Anything you care to share?"

"Honestly, there isn't that much to tell you. I was a pain in the arse as a child and my father never ceased to remind me of it."

"You? Sweet and innocent Natasja was a pain in the arse? I just can't picture it."

"Very funny. He used to call me Omak, which means trouble."

"Omak, eh? The word itself doesn't sound very flattering. Come to me, Omak," he whispered in a husky voice as he pulled her down for a kiss. She seemed, for the moment, to have forgotten her mission the next day.

"At least when you say it, you sound almost affectionate."

"That's because I am being affectionate," he said, pleased with her lighter mood.

"Gods, I haven't thought of that name in years," she said with a faraway look in her eyes. "But I hated it, still do. So don't get in the habit of calling me that please."

"As you wish, lass. I don't want to get on your bad side."

"I don't think that's possible, Bryn."

"You know, lass, I think you need something to take your mind off tomorrow."

"Do you now? There's only one thing I can think of that will take my mind off tomorrow." She launched herself at him, knocking him backward and pinning him to the ground. "Let me take care of you, Bryn. As you say, I need to keep myself occupied."

"I'm all yours, lass. Give it your best shot."

"Is that a challenge of some sort?" she asked softly.

"If you take it as such," he answered, with a note of wickedness in his tone. "You know very well that all I have to do is run my hands along your thighs for you to give up and let me lead. So yes, we will call it a challenge."

"I hate you," she said, looking steadily into his eyes.

"That last time you said that we had a very arousing afternoon."

"Shut up and relax, and I'll rid you of these infernally tight pants." Once the pants were off, she stroked him, and he groaned, thinking he might explode any second. "Not yet," she said in a gentle whisper and let go of him.

"Don't hold back on me, lass."

"Oh, I won't."

Once her leathers were off, she straddled his thighs and sunk down on Brynjolf, completely filled with him. Running her hands over his chest, she delighted in the crisp rasp of his hair, his nipples drawn into tight points. She wondered if he felt the same exciting jolt that was screeching down her spine. There was a purely masculine smile of satisfaction on his lips, one that would have bothered her if she wasn't so confident he'd be losing it within moments.

He tried to resist, but when she begin to move her hips back and forth, rocking on top of him, he lost whatever will power he had. Her pace quickened until she was pounding down onto him, her nails biting into his shoulders. And when his release came, in a sudden powerful explosion, his mind was washed clean of every thought but of her. He gasped her name in her ear, and she let go, let the searing climax of pressure and tingling pleasure take her in a crashing torrent, his name leaving her mouth in a harsh cry.

The laid tangled together for a long while, basking in the afterglow of passion well spent. She kissed his cheek and snuggled closer. "I'm going to miss you again, you know."

"Of course you are." When she didn't crack a smile, he grew serious and reached out to stroke her cheek. "Snow Veil isn't much farther than Whiterun in distance. You won't be gone for more than five or six days, and if I know Mercer, he'll push to make the trip with no sleep. You'd best get some decent sleep tonight."

"I don't want to rest," she murmured. "I don't want this day to end, Bryn."

"You need to be in top form, lass. Tonight you should relax and hit the sack early," he said with an authoritative tone. "For once, just listen to me and do as I say."

"This sudden concern for your protégé is touching." Natasja's sarcasm was unmistakable.

He clenched his jaw against a heated reply. "Normally, I let recruits suffer the consequences of poor judgment. In this case, my concern for you is very real and very personal."

"What does that even mean, Brynjolf?"

"It means that I care about you. I trust you and I respect you, but I'm looking out for you as well."

Her hopes soared for a moment. "Care about me?"

"More than you can imagine."

"I care about you, too, Bryn. But... where are we going with this?"

His jaw tightened and he released the hold he had around her. "I can't answer that."

"It's not like...I mean, I'm not asking for a commitment," she stammered, flustered and tongue-tied. "I… I just need to know what you're thinking."

"I care about you more than I expected. More than I ever dreamed possible." His voice took on a sudden hard edge. He was closing up, pushing her away with his dark, smoldering expression. "But I cannot make a formal commitment to you. I just can't."

"Well neither can I." The swiftness of her agreement startled him. Feeling stupid and hurt over the assumptions she had made, she straightened and smiled, albeit a forced smile. She withdrew from his touch, threw on her clothes hastily, and began packing up.

"I've responsibilities, lass… obligations to the Guild that go beyond any personal desires I may have," he said as he put his arms around her waist.

"Don't worry. I won't get in the way of your duties." She pushed him away. "Better get your pants on."

"And now you're angry with me," he said throwing his arms up. "Look, I don't mean to sound… selfish. If it weren't for my own weakness, my desire to be near you…."

"Say no more, please. I understand, and I agree it's wise to keep what we have noncommittal. I have to go to High Hrothgar eventually and Gods know what the Greybeards will want from me then."

"Perhaps we can revisit this discussion in a few months," he said coolly, but she heard the regret in his voice.

"Perhaps. In any case, we should head out. The sun will be setting soon. And I have to prepare." She scurried to pack the horses and got on Saturnalia quickly.

"I'm sorry if I've ruined this day, Natasja. It was not my intention to do so." The words were not bold, but shy and cautious as he looked up at her.

"You didn't ruin anything," she reassured him. "It was a lovely day and I regret nothing we've said. You...you can't even begin to know what you've done for me today." Her tone and demeanor changed as she brought her hand to his face. "I know what I must do, exactly where my responsibilities lie. It's something always in the back of my mind, but you've helped me to commit to them. So we're good, all right?"

"Aye." But he didn't really agree. He didn't even know why he said what he did. Fear for her, for himself perhaps? And now she has some plan to…. to what? Leave for good? Blast and damnation. What have I done?

He mounted Hammersteed in silence, and they rode swiftly across the meadows in the flood of sunset light. Natasja was so distracted and distraught, she barely held her horse's reins for guidance, leaving Saturnalia to guide them back unaided until they reached the stables. Throughout the trip back, Brynjolf also felt the distance widen between them in the very short time. Once back at the stable, Natasja continued her silence, every move she made exacting and quick.

"What a good girl you are, Saturnalia," she whispered as she stroked the horse's nose, "finding your way back with no help from me." Saturnalia's loud and echoing whinny startled Brynjolf to speak.

"She's smarter than the average horse, it's true."

"I'm sure she could find her way here from Markarth if she was pressed to do so."

"You've trained her well, lass." Saturnalia stepped toward Brynjolf, and her tongue swept out to lick his cheek.

"I think she likes you as much as I do." Then she flushed, realizing she had misspoken. She cleared her throat self-consciously. "I mean… what I meant to say was she likes you as much as she likes me," she stammered.

"Natasja, something has changed between us now. This was not what I wanted."

She threw him a fast, sideways glance and answered with decision. "I know what you want, Brynjolf. And what I want is to end this conversation and try to have some fun tonight."

"Then are you still interested in spending time with me tonight? I mean to relax and have a drink?"

"Yes. And I'd still like to stay in your room too, if you're willing."

"Of course I'm willing, lass, more than willing."

"And can you also take care of Merc for me while I'm gone? By the time I get back, he'll probably be yours anyway."

"Will you still be mine?"

"I'm not yours. I belong to no man." She struggled from his grip as he tried to gather her into his arms again. "Bryn, please stop." The pain in his eyes changed into resentment with alarming speed. "You know I think you're a wonderful man, and we've had some very special times together recently, but you are not my future, just as I am not yours."

"What is it with you?" he asked, sounding aggrieved. "I understand why you'd be put off by what I said earlier, but I also said I cared for you deeply. Is that not enough for you?" His voice was surprisingly strong, his face reddened with emotion.

"It is enough. But I think some distance between us will do us a bit of good too," she lied. "So let's not rehash this all again, Bryn. I want to have some fun tonight. Let's just go to the Flagon and have a few pints."

With that, he was left to follow her back to the Cistern, feeling like a dog with his tail between his legs. It was then he realized the night would not progress as he'd hoped.

She bee lined for the Flagon and sucked down an ale before Brynjolf had caught up to her. She moved to sit with Vipir as soon as Brynjolf came in. He stood in the middle of the tavern and stared at the back of her head, watching how greedily she was drinking, and he felt guilty. He convinced himself it was a kindness, a way to help her through a difficult and long night. But maybe it had been purely selfish.

"Are you all right, lass?"

"Never better, boss."

So now we're back to "boss"? She was goading him so obviously he almost pitied her. "You will regret drinking heavily when your horse is trying to keep up with Mercer." She looked at him and didn't argue.

Thrynn passed by Brynjolf and said, "Mercer wants to see you."

"Blast!" Mercer was the last person he wanted to talk to, but there were dealings that needed attention while Mercer was gone.

Natasja continued to throw the drinks back, and she got a little wild and began flirting with the other men. Brynjolf sidled up to her and offered on last piece of advice. "You do yourself no favors by flirting with the other men and acting on frivolous impulses."

"I'm simply having a carefree moment." She was swept with a sense of outrage that she certainly did not have to pretend to have. "You know nothing of me, Brynjolf. Nothing. Why don't you go catch forty winks and leave the fun and high jinks to us young folk?"

Her sharp tongue stung him. Never had she mentioned their difference in age. Is this the beginning of the end? he wondered. He left, but not before giving her a warning. "My door will be locked in one hour."

"Fine."

By the time he returned to his room, she had passed out from the alcohol. He clenched his fists in frustration. "How did this day turn out so backward?" He looked at her and saw the choppy rapid breathing induced by her stupor.

He sighed, and then he too lay down on his bed, for the dawn would come sooner than later. And it did. It seemed to him he had only just laid his head down when the sounds of the Cistern shook him awake.

There had been times recently he wished he was alone again, or at least had his own space. Now that he had nothing but his own space, he felt so empty he thought he was something fragile that would crumble at the first bruising blow. And he hated it as it embarrassed him in so many different ways he couldn't quantify it. Or could he?

All the time he had known that it was her: her face, her eyes, the way she walked, the scent of her hair. She haunted him, whether she was out of his sight for minutes or hours or days.

What a fool he had been, what a bloody fool. He was in love with her. He hadn't been looking for it, and certainly hadn't wanted these kinds of feelings and emotions again in his lifetime, but they were there nonetheless, and there was nothing he could do about them.

Except tell her the moment she returned.

"Hurry home, Natasja," he whispered into the silence.

The foundations of his heart and mind were set in stone, as it should have been weeks ago. A peace settled in his heart in a place he'd forgotten existed. And he smiled.