Dear Brynjolf,

You turned away from me furiously. I watched your back as you walked swiftly toward the Flagon, to get drunk no doubt. An immense feeling of guilt washed over me, but I shoved it aside roughly. I don't have time for doubt.

I know that I've angered you, annoyed you, avoided you, and even hurt you. I know you hate me for it. Hopefully one day you will realize that I do it all in the name of love.

That's right, love. I am hopelessly in love with you Brynjolf, and there's nothing I can do about it. I've tried, oh how I've tried, to push your green eyes and flaming hair from my mind. To block out the sight of your ever constant grin. To shut out the sound of your beautifully accented voice rolling over my name. It does no good. I cannot stop thinking of you, no matter how hard I try.

That isn't the scary part, no. The scary part is the fact that you are beginning to feel the same way about me. I can see it in the way your eyes linger on me when you think I'm not watching. I can hear it in the way your voice lifts in happiness when you talk to me. I can feel it in your grip when you give me a congratulatory hug and it lasts a little longer than it should. I noticed these things and I knew I had to stop them.

You see, Brynjolf, I have secrets that I've never told you. Some of them I know you've worked out for yourself. Like how I used to be a member of the Dark Brotherhood, or how I joined Ulfric's rebellion. What you don't know is who I really am.

I'm not just the lass that you picked up off the street one day. I am the Dragonborn. I came to Riften to hide from my destiny. I thought that joining the Guild would let me escape my fate. It didn't. My destiny has come for me.

Dragons have attacked Riften, strange cultists have come looking for the "False Dragonborn", Thalmor have appeared demanding answers. I can't help but feel that it is all my fault. If I hadn't tried to hide, maybe these things wouldn't have happened.

So now I push you away. I mock you and scorn you and try to make you hate me. It hurt's. Oh, Brynjolf. It hurts me when I yell at you. It feels as if someone is tearing out my heart when I see the lost look in your emerald eyes. Yet I do it, because I know that the pain of having me only to lose me would be so much worse.

A week from now I will go to face Alduin in Sovngarde. I will do my duty to this world and face the great dragon, but I do not expect to return. That is why I cannot let you grow close to me. I could not bare to cause you pain.

I have left a letter with Karliah concerning the leadership of the Guild. I have requested that you lead it. I know that you hate the idea of such responsibility, but you are the perfect fit to guide this rabble of a Guild.

If you are reading this, that means that you've found my journal that I keep in Honeyside. Which means that you went through my house. You rascal! If you have read this, I apologize. I apologize for any pain that I have caused you. Just remember that I did it all in the name of love.

- Love,

Your Lass

Tears fell on the worn leather book from emerald green eyes. Sobs wracked Brynjolf's body as he read the final words that his lass had written to him.

His lass knew him so well. She knew that after he had discovered that she had gone missing, he would search her house. He had found the small book peeking out from under her pillow. A small slip of fabric marked the latest entry, which he had flipped to after a moment of hesitation.

His heart broke as he read. To think of the pain that she had caused herself just so that she could minimize his pain. He had never known that she had loved him. He had always thought that the love he had felt was one sided. Now he knew, but she was gone.

He sat on her bed and cried. The tears fell in a steady stream, and he knew that this would be the only place he could feel these emotions. If what his lass had said was true, then soon he would be the Guildmaster. That meant that he had to be strong for the rest of the Guild, and so he allowed himself these few moments to cry.

Suddenly he felt the bed dip and a soft hand on his. He looked up and figured that he must be dreaming. He had to be, because next to him sat his lass. Her pale face looked tired and Brynjolf thought he noticed a few new scars, but other than that she didn't look like she had fought a world-eating dragon. Her eyes were filled with concern and a fair amount of fear.

Finally he was able to speak. "Lass?" his voice was so thick with emotion that he barely recognized it. A few tears escaped his eyes.

She reached a slender finger out to wipe away his tears. "It's okay, Bryn. I'm here." She pulled him close to her. He breathed in the smell of her deeply. She smelled of sweat and woods.

The stayed like that for a long time until she took the leather book from his hands. The cover was soaked in his tears. He had closed the book in an effort to keep his tears from ruining what he had believed to be her last words to him.

"I'm sorry Brynjolf." his lass whispered by his side. "I had thought that I would get back before you found that. I should have known better. I'm so sorry." she apologized again.

For awhile Brynjolf stared at his lass, thinking on the things she had said. "Lass, it's okay. You did it for love. A love that we share." He caught her blue eyes with his emerald ones. "I love you, lass. I've loved you since the day I saw you walk into Riften, and I always will."

"I love you too, Bryn." her voice was soft and still somewhat scared, but he smoothed away her fear with a gentle kiss.

"Everything I do for you, and everything you do for me, is done in the name of love. Never forget that." He whispered in her ear as both a promise and an assurance. Then he kissed her again and time stood still for the Thief and his Dragonborn.