Velina had avoided the guild for several days after the Brynjolf incident. She was ashamed of the way she reacted, and would've been happy to never see anyone who had witnessed it ever again.

But that's not how any of this works.

Immediately following her outburst, Velina had fled the sewers, only stopping briefly to pick up an assignment from Delvin to make up for the damages. Once she knew where she was headed, she ripped the all too heavy amulet from her neck and made her way to Honeyside to suit up.

She didn't pause for a moment, didn't even request company on this quest. She needed to be alone.

Iona had already drawn up a bath for the wounded Dragonborn upon her return, while Serana had thrown together some delicious beef stew. She's could've cried upon walking in the house, the two women each waiting with food and towel in hand.

The warrior promptly flopped into the bath, her eyes landing on a plate set on the side table. She all but ripped into the perfectly cooked flesh and moaned as it slid all the way to the bottom of her belly.

"Thank you." She mumbled between bites to the two women. "You didn't have to do this." She winced as her housecarl poured the bathing oil over a particularly nasty gash on her shoulder. Must've been from that archer I hadn't seen right away.

The two smirked at each other, the Dragonborn's stubbornness nothing short of amusing. "The man's an idiot." Serana spoke, not caring to dance around the subject forever. "To turn down a woman such as you is truly a crime, but to turn down the Dragonborn...he must be suicidal."

"Aye!" Iona gruffed, scrubbing at the dried blood now. It escaped her attention when Velina's nails dug into the wooden tub at the sensation. "Brynjolf has always been quick to strike a deal when he sees one, or snatch something of value without a second thought. He must truly be possessed."

Velina smiled weakly at their attempts to cheer her up, but if truth be told the battle had already helped her work out some much needed tension. There was nothing quite like striking down bandits to soothe the soul. She even used Molag Bol's confounded mace so now he could leave her in peace, at least for a time.

"I may have been better off taking up that beggar on his offer." She jested, a healthy rumble of laughter filling Honeyside's main room. Soon enough the two women had lifted Velina's spirits with food and drink, and at this precise moment she was quite thankful for whatever brilliant soul created mead.

Velina pushed the doors to Honeyside open as quietly as she could, putting the keys in her purse with the skill and silence of a well seasoned thief. But there was no one in the world who could keep Kjorn from her.

"Mama!" A small voice called just as the large wooden doors thumped shut.

"Kjorn!" Velina cried, swooping the small boy up in her war toned arms. "I missed you my little warrior. Have you been holding down the fort here?"

The small halfling was a slender little lad, not much of a fighter. Took too much after his blasted father for that. Velina had taken in the child when her younger sister had passed away in childbirth. Unions between the races often resulted in such tragedies, based on the higher chances of disaster. Many said it was because the divines did not intend for the blood lines to mix. Others said some unions were just too much for the mothers to handle. Velina's sister had only had the one son with her Dunmer groom before Sovngarde claimed her. The bastard father had plopped the boy in Velina's lap before running away with some Redguard whore.

But it was the greatest blessing she had ever received.

The child nodded vigorously at his mother's question as she put him down, thrusting a wooden sword in her face as he explained. "Aye! No one has dared enter here! Except for Iona of course. Oh! And that kind lady that been around a lot. The one with the red eyes? She makes good food." He mumbled happily while rubbing his belly.

The Dragonborn laughed as she placed the halfling on the floor. "Yes, Serana has taken quite a liking to you as well, little one." She was glad to have found such a true friend, and someone she could trust to watch her home and child when she had to be gone for weeks at a time. She could always count on her to be around since the vampire had since taken quite a liking to Marcurio. She was always hanging around the Bee and Barb, having a laugh and a drink with the smooth talking wizard.

"Oh! And Mr. Brynjolf came looking for you!" The boys words chilled her blood and suddenly her smile became forced.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, Mama! When I told him you weren't here he offered to wait. I told him that would be silly! You're always gone for so long! Too long for him to wait." He giggled, his pointed ears twitching in delight as they always did when he laughed. "Serana told him to stay for dinner, so he did and after he taught me how to properly wield a knife!" To illustrate his point, the boy flicked a wooden dagger out of his pocket, much smaller than the wooden sword she had fashioned him, and masterfully moved silently and lethally. Like a true thief.

She would've felt a swell of pride had she not wanted to rip out Brynjolf's throat.

"That's...that's amazing, my love!" She managed as her throat closed slowly. Clearing it, she stood. "Sweetheart, isn't it well past your bedtime?"

"Aww, Mama! I just wanted to greet you at the door!" His dark lower lip quivered as his large green eyes grew wide.

"And that you did! Don't you give me that face, you need your sleep. Besides, you need to get back downstairs and be very quiet. You don't want to wake up Iona, do you?" She leveled him with this, knowing full well that the small child really didn't like Iona's temper, especially when woken from a deep slumber.

"Oooh, ok mama."

"That's a good boy. Now give me a kiss." Raising on his tip toes, he did. "I'll see you in the morning my little warrior.

"Goodnight Mama. I love you."

"And I love you, Kjorn."

"Just where do you get off?" Velina roared as she entered the Thieves Guild's sparring room. Poor Garthar nearly jumped out of his skin when the Dragonborn's booming voice filled the wing.

Brynjolf seemed to be expecting it.

"Leave us." She snapped at the poor nord before making her way to her second in command. "I asked you a question. Don't make me repeat myself."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Guildmaster." The shit eating grin and taunting tone made her fucking teeth grind.

"Horseshit. You know exactly what I'm talking about." She seethed, poking him in the shoulder repeatedly to make her point clear. "How dare you come to my house, eat my food, and entertain my family after what you did?"

If possible, the smile grew.

"What is it that I did, exactly, master?"

Gods...the way that word dripped off his tongue. Had he always said it like that? No, he hadn't. But the way he'd just all but moaned it...it was like sex.

"You would have me say it out loud?" She seethed.

"I'd have you say anything to listen to that voice, but for now let's stick with this."

...what?

Where was he going with this? Now he was going to flirt with her? Now?

Oh no, she was stronger than this. She was not going to fall for his tricks.

"You would dishonor me by ignoring, no! Refusing my marriage proposal in front of the entire guild and then have the audacity to come into my home and give my son, my son, lessons on how to be a thief?!"

That threw him.

His jaw went slack and all confidence fled every inch of his body.

"Excuse me?"

"I will not repeat myself again, Brynjolf." She snapped.

"No, of course not. But did you say...marriage proposal?"

Her hand shot out too fast for either of them to realize what was going on. In the blink of an eye the large Nordic man was thrust against the stone wall, Velina's strong fingers wrapped around his throat. She knew him well enough to know that even in a situation like this he no doubt had cracks about their position running through his mind.

"What did I just. say, Brynjolf."

"My apologies." He wheezed, one hand gently raising to try and wrench her fingers away from his dwindling air supply.

She dropped him to his knees then, the redheaded man all gasps and chokes as he fought to regain his air.

"Do not dishonor me again." And with that, the Dragonborn turned on her heel and walked out of the Cistern.

Hello! I hope you're all enjoying this story!

Loving the feedback! ;D

Just curious on y'all's input: I'm thinking of keeping this to 3 chapters or so, just like a short drabble. Is anyone interested in me expanding it into a full fic? I'm kind of falling in love with the characters and wouldn't mind elaborating it myself. I feel like following the misadventures of Velina and Brynjolf could prove QUITE interesting! Thoughts?