Notes: Here we are again! I didn't think I'd return to this story, but I got into a discussion with the wonderful author Myrielle and suddenly found myself longing to write more. Thank you everyone for your patience. Fortunately I had a good start on this chapter so it wasn't that hard to pick up where I left off.
Thanks everyone for reading, the faves and follows, and especially the reviews! They mean so much to me.
Markarth
Another shirt stuffed into her bag. Her hands were determined, but her eyes were not, as she folded up her blue dress, that one she wore the night she murdered someone. So lovely on her slender, youthful form and it had pleased him to slowly unlace the corset and free her from it. She was leaving. Their time together was too short for new lovers. Who would be there to hold her as she looked into the abyss the next time? Maybe she didn't need him. She'd done all right so far, well, if you don't count nearly dying in Solitude.
"Must you leave so soon?" Brynjolf asked
"Time is short. Or it may be short. I won't know until I complete the next job." Her hands slowed as she folded the next shirt.
His heart fell a little further when she stuffed it into the bag with the rest. "Where is it you're headed? If that's not a secret."
She stopped packing her clothes into her bag and looked at him, her eyes reflecting her melancholy mood. "I suppose it can't hurt to tell you. I'm headed to the Nightgate Inn, in the Pale."
"I know that Inn," he said. "That's a long trip, lass. It is more or less on the way back to Riften for me." His eyebrow lifted as he looked for a sign she would pick up on his hint.
"Oh! Why don't we go together? Maybe after I, uh, complete my job I won't have to rush back to the Sanctuary." She flushed, still unable to name her job by its proper name in front of him, and continued. "I mean, if you wanted…"
He leapt up from the bed and grabbed his own pack. "It can get cold. Traveling together would make sense." An amused smile lit his face as his earlier funk dispersed. "We can keep one another warm."
His enthusiasm was infectious and Nessa's answering grin was wide. "It does seem rather practical. I've never been there, so having you along could save me time. I'm sure I would get lost otherwise."
"True, enough. It is entirely practical." He winked at her and they both laughed, but then he sobered suddenly and his expression changed to one of mock horror. "But please tell me, Ness, you didn't bring that demon horse with you this time. I swear that mount of yours wants to kill me."
"Shadowmere? Nonsense, Brynjolf. He will do as I tell him. I am the Listener after all, and in the hierarchy of the guild, that is a step above the horse. At least I hope so." She laughed and threw a pillow at him.
He ducked the pillow and grinned at her. "Yes, well, if your horse obeys you then I've got nothing to fear, I'm sure." He crossed the room and seized her by the waist, yanking her close. Her delighted eyes met his just before their lips met. "On the road with my Ness, I can't think of a better way to spend a week."
"Won't the Thieves' Guild miss you?"
Brynjolf shrugged. "Delvin is taking over while I'm away. Mercer hasn't been around much. They'll do fine without me for a while longer."
They were quickly finished packed and both of them in good spirits now. Brynjolf let her go out of the door first. He paused, looking back into the home they'd shared for a few days, where they'd both bared their feelings, and silently bid it goodbye. As he pulled the door closed behind him, he had a strong feeling that nothing would ever be this idyllic again.
~o~o~o~
Perhaps he'd romanticized the trip a little. It was cold. There were bandits. The horse tried to kill him twice. But at night inside the little tent, his arms wrapped around Nessa, it seemed worth it. Even the demon horse had finally relented and Brynjolf was even at the reins. Bidding his time until the next attack, no doubt, but it was a step.
"Shit!"
The curse coming from Nessa made him twist around in the saddle to look at her. She was gazing into the sky, her brows drawn together with worry.
"What is it, lass?" he asked, then turned back to stare into the distance where she had been looking. A dot in the sky was flying in lazy circles.
"Dragon," she said. "We've got to get off the road. Let's stick to the forest. It might not find us."
"Damn dragons. I liked them better when they were extinct. Now all of a sudden they're popping up everywhere." He reached back with a hand a squeezed her leg reassuringly. "But he's far off. Nowhere close to us. We'll be fine."
"No, we won't be, Bryn. Please, just do it."
The fear in her voice was plain. If it put her at ease, then he'd do it, of course.
As she predicted, the dot grew closer, heading for them as if it were looking for them. He guided the horse to the thickest cover in the forest and they dismounted, hiding themselves beneath a thick canopy. As if sensing their presence, the dragon circled for a long time before it flew off. Even then though, Nessa wouldn't budge from their spot.
"It's still there," she whispered
"I'm pretty certain it's gone, love." Its wings had kicked up leaves and dust. Nothing was moving now. The forest was silent.
"It's there. I feel it."
Her eyes looked haunted as she spoke about dragons. "You've some experience with them, then?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "I was there. In Helgen."
Ah. That would explain a lot then. The entire village was burned to the ground by a vicious dragon attack, the first of its kind. Now it seemed not a week went by but another dragon was reported.
They huddled in the forest for an hour and, as it turned out, Nessa was right. There was another great buffeting by a great wind as the dragon took off. She took a deep, trembling breath and then let it go.
"It's gone. Wait a bit more, but I don't think it'll be back," she said.
"Lass, I've a question."
The forest began to stir. Small creatures, birds, everything else that had been hiding along with them, came out and resumed their activities. Now that he thought of it, the forest had been too quiet.
"What?"
"How did you know what the dragon would do?"
"I'm not sure. I just do."
It sounded like an evasion to him. Some mystery lay there. As much as she seemed sweet and uncomplicated there were layers to her. It made things interesting. He'd get it out of her, no doubt.
He cocked his head and gave her his most charming smile. "Perhaps you're part dragon yourself." He chuckled at the absurdity of the notion, but she went pale and turned to the horse, needlessly trying to cinch his saddle tighter.
"That's ridiculous," she said.
"Lass, sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"Let's go. We've already lost an hour."
She mounted the horse and took the reins. Brynjolf mounted behind her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and wondered why his joke had gone so wide of the mark. Fortunately it wasn't long before she relaxed and learned back against him, letting him know that all was forgiven.
~o~o~o~
The inn was a welcome sight at the end of a long day of traveling through wind-whipped sleet.
"Brynjolf? You blighted Daedra. It has been too long!" The innkeeper practically dropped the cup he was polishing and embraced the red-head.
"Hadring, I hoped you were still on this side of the soil." Brynjolf clapped the innkeeper on the back like an old friend.
The innkeeper turned to look at Nessa, who stood apart, letting the friends greet each other. "And who is this? Has someone finally shot an arrow into your knee, old man?"
Brynjolf turned in time to see her turn bright pink. It wasn't a bad cover story, really, and her blush was charming. "Why yes, Hadry. We're just newly hitched. Isn't that right, Ness?"
She nodded and turned even pinker. "Yes. To meet my family. In, uh, Whiterun."
Brynjolf wrapped a protective arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the side of her head. "Did pretty good for myself, didn't I?"
Hadring grinned. "I'll say. Well, seeing as how you're newlyweds, I'll give you the best room and dinner is on me. A wedding present. I'll make sure no one disturbs you either, not that anyone is here except Fultheim, and an orc who's been here a bit. Strange fella, but loaded. He can stay as long as he likes with his wallet open and ready."
Brynjolf stared lovingly at Nessa, playing the newlywed, and saw her eyebrows twitch when the innkeeper mentioned the orc. He knew then that he must be her target.
They bathed in a steaming hot tub big enough for the both of them. A week of freezing, sleety weather seemed to melt out of his bones into the warm water and Nessa's clean wet hair wrapped seductively around her neck and shoulders. There hadn't been much hanky-panky on the road. They'd been too cold, too tired, and too filthy to do more than wrap themselves together at night.
"Newlyweds?" Nessa said, smiling shyly at him. "What inspired that?"
"Perfect cover story for you, lass. No one would ever expect the blushing bride has murdered the orc."
Her expression sobered and she looked at him suspiciously. "How'd you know?"
"Your face, love. Just a little twitch of your left eyebrow."
She bit her lip and furrowed her brow. "Do you think he noticed?"
"Naw. I've spent a lot of years reading faces." He pulled the wash rag out of her hands and grabbed the soap. "Turn around. I'll wash your back."
She shifted around in the tub, trying not to slosh too much water out.
"And your face," he continued, "is a face I truly love reading." He lathered up the wash cloth and began to scrub her back. "At first it threw me. So innocent, wide-eyed, too pretty, too young. Then I discovered all my presumptions were wrong, lass."
She looked over her shoulder and caught his eye with the corner of hers. "Does it disappoint you I'm not those things?"
"Never." He plunged the wash cloth back into the water and then rinsed her back off. "You're far more interesting than just a pretty face. You have layers no one would ever guess you possess. And I keep discovering new things about you."
He handed her the wash cloth. "Get mine?"
They carefully changed positions and she scrubbed his back.
"What things did you discover?" she asked.
"I had no idea about you and your past with dragons. You survived Helgen. Not many people did."
"I survived a lot of things that day." Her voice was small, like the confession came reluctantly. "I was going to be executed along with Ulfric and a handful of his soldiers and a horse thief."
He twisted in the tub to see her face, his own painted with surprise. "See? You just keep surprising me. I heard Ulfric was for the headsman's block, but got away somehow. The man has luck, I'll give him that. Apparently you do too, lass."
"It wasn't luck," she rubbed his back hard, some deep anger coming out now. "It was a horrible mistake. I was swept up in a raid. I had nothing to do with the Stormcloaks. Well, not really. Just was in the company of one, briefly. And for that, I was to be executed."
"Oh?" He caught her hand and swept it to his mouth for a kiss. "Who was this Stormcloak? Was it Ulfric himself?"
"Hardly," she scoffed. "One of his soldiers. Another of my many mistakes."
"We all make them, Ness. Don't be so hard on yourself." He got out of the tub and grabbed a towel. "Come on, now. Let's get a proper hot meal." He dried off quickly then wrapped her in another towel as she got out of the tub.
~o~o~o~
They dressed in comfortable clothes and ate their meal next to the hearth in the dining room. The fire seemed to burn away the last of the chill, and the mead warmed their spirits. Things were so… pleasant. It was different from Markarth. The heady passion had mellowed into something else, something nice, safe.
"The dragon thing," Nessa murmured. Her voice dropped low, and then she stopped, afraid to continue on the topic. It was crazy.
"Go on, lass. I'm curious, but I didn't want to pry." He reached across the table and took her hand.
A quaff of mead bolstered her. "Jarl Balgruuf thinks I'm a…" She laughed nervously and looked to make sure the innkeeper wasn't eavesdropping. "A Dragonborn," she whispered.
Brynjolf's eyebrows leapt. "A Dragonborn?" He stared at her, his head cocked to the side.
She grimaced. "I know. It's ridiculous. I told them that, but people saw that dragon's… stuff, his soul I guess, go into me when it died. I felt something too."
He stroked his mustache as he looked at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. "You think I'm crazy now. Well, I don't believe them. Akatosh couldn't be that stupid to make me a Dragonborn."
He grinned at her. "I suspect if you were then it isn't a mistake. I wouldn't have expected it either, but you've surprised me more than once. Listen, I don't put much stock in gods, but I expect if you are they'll make it plain someday. Maybe whatever happened to you in Helgen just made you wise in the ways of dragons. I wouldn't worry over it, lass. You've got enough on your plate as it is." He squeezed her hand.
She smiled at him, and her eyes drifted down to her plate. "It looks rather empty at the moment. Do you suppose we could get a boiled crème treat?"
"Let's see what we can get Hadry to give us. I'll bet you your small clothes that he'll give it to us free. Watch me."
Brynjolf called over the innkeeper and they chatted, laughing it up. Sure enough, all the thief had to do was suggest that Nessa wanted a dessert and he offered it up gratis.
As the innkeeper left to get their treat, Brynjolf held out his hand. "Your smalls, my lady."
Nessa blushed. "Here? How am I…"
"Quickly, I'd suggest. He's likely to be back shortly."
Nessa bit her lip and tried to discretely remove her underpants. She shifted and twisted in her chair, watching Brynjolf's growing amusement at her antics. Finally, she scrunched forward and removed them from around her ankles. Looking around quickly to make sure no one saw, she stuffed them into Brynjolf's hand.
"Happy?"
"I'll be happier still once I get the rest of your clothes off," he said with a smirk.
The stab of desire that shot through her made her reevaluate what she'd though earlier. That heady passion was still there. Oh gods she wanted him.
Hadry, as Brynjolf called him, brought their boiled crème treats and they ate them, but Nessa barely tasted it, especially when Brynjolf made a show of licking the crème off his lips in the sexiest way possible.
They hurried through dessert and went back to their room, locking the door.
As she fell asleep, much later, Nessa realized no murdering was going to get done that day. Although—she giggled to herself—Brynjolf had stabbed her over and over again.
~o~o~o~
The next day they barely made it out of their room, luxuriating in the warmth, the hot water, the hot food, the mead, and one another's company. Nessa could forget the orc she had to murder for a little bit longer as she popped bits of warm bread into Brynjolf's mouth and then followed it with a buttery kiss.
But as the day wore on, her mood faltered. The task at hand needed to be done before it was too late for whoever was going to try to assassinate the emperor. She gulped the rest of her mead and exhaled deeply.
"What is it, Ness?" Brynjolf looked concerned.
"We've got to leave tomorrow morning. I'll have to do my job tonight." Would they ever see each other again?
"So soon? Can't you delay a little longer?"
She signed and shook her head. "No, this is too important. I can't mess this up, Bryn. It almost seemed like Astrid likes me again. If I return too late… I… So much is riding on this. I can't put it off."
"A matter of life and death, eh?" he said with an ironic smile.
She groaned and shook her head. "You have no idea how important this is."
The war would end and the Dark Brotherhood's name would be on everyone's lips. Ulfric would be king. Not that she really cared one way or the other. He seemed like an asshole, really, but Tullius was even worse.
A shiver traveled down Brynjolf's spine. Perhaps intuition, perhaps a warning planted by a meddlesome Daedra, but he was suddenly afraid for Nessa. "By the gods, lass, who is it?" He grasped her wrists and pulled her closer, their eyes meet and his burned with intensity.
She'd rarely seen him look so concerned. He was always so calm and unflappable. What had gotten into him? "Bryn." She tugged her arms, trying to put a bit of space between them, confused by his behavior. "I can't tell you."
"On my honor, Ness, I promise I won't say a word. Not even if it is the emperor himself."
She stopped trying to pull away and her face paled. "No. You promised you wouldn't ask."
A lucky guess, it must've been, but he was certain now. Her face spoke plainly the words her mouth wouldn't say. He dropped her arms and paced the room in front of her. "They're going after the emperor. Don't bother denying it. Sweet Lady of Shadows, Ness, have they lost their minds? Tell me they won't send you."
"Me? There is a whole guild of assassins far more experienced than I am. They'd never send me to assassinate someone that important." She laughed nervously. How could he know? He read all that on her face?
"And yet your guild leader sent you to murder Vittoria Vici in nearly impossible circumstances. That you survived is a miracle. Are you sure your guild leader doesn't want you dead?"
This time Nessa shook her head violently. "No. I rescued her husband. She's quite grateful." Stomping her foot she glared at Brynjolf. "New subject now! I can't be discussing this stuff with you."
He signed and stepped over to her, gathering her in his arms. "I don't want to lose you again, lass. Or even nearly lose you. Call me crazy, but these last days have been some of the best I've had in a long time."
He felt her snuggle into his shoulder, pressing her face into his chest. "Me too. Do you think we can see each other again," she asked shyly.
"A thousand dragons couldn't keep me away. Why don't we meet someone not too far from your secret hideout? I'll go there and wait for you. You report in then come meet me. All right?"
She considered the offer. The Night Mother might give her hell in her dreams, but it seemed a small price to pay for continuing her time with the red-haired thief. Green eyes and a charming smile might be muddling her thoughts, she knew, but she could certainly get away to visit him after she reported in.
"All right," she nodded. "We'll pass through Falkreath on the way. You can wait for me there."
"That's my lass," he said with a smile, his eyes sparkling. "I've been meaning to go there to sell some potions. They've probably forgotten all about my last visit by now. Besides, I feel very lucky."
That night Balagog gro-Nolob died a peaceful death in his sleep and his body was dumped into a wine vat. He wouldn't be found until someone drained the vat. Nessa swore off of drinking any wines originating from the area.
The newlyweds bid goodbye to the innkeeper the next morning and they mounted double on Shadowmere who snorted his disgust.
~o~o~o~
There was definitely a bloom on Nessa's cheek and a lightness about her.
"Hmmm… She looks happy, doesn't she?" Astrid commented to Arnbjorn after the Listener returned. "I think she's settling in nicely. Her new occupation agrees with her."
Arnbjorn's reply was little more than a snort. He knew full well what was responsible for her mood, or rather, who was responsible. The girl must've met her thief in Markarth after all. Good for her. Now they could put all this nonsense behind them and start behaving like real assassins. The small stab of jealousy reminded Arnbjorn that he wasn't immune from the nonsense, but despite that, he winked secretively at Nessa when they exchanged glances. Her smile seemed to brim with her secret happiness.
Astrid was happy too and that worried him.
"Sit here, Nessa." Astrid called her over when she walked into the dining hall. "We've missed you around here." She smiled warmly at the girl and looked at her husband. "Haven't we, darling?"
"Mmph," he said around a mouthful of meat he'd just taken in order to avoid conversation.
"Excellent job, my dear! You're really blossoming as an assassin. And, I dare say, you look prettier than ever since you returned. You seem… happy. I'm glad." She reached across the table to pat the girl's hand.
A brass septim would've seemed more real than Astrid's compliments. It was the flash of sharp incisor and the subtle turn of her lip. He knew her too well.
"Thank you, Astrid," the girl replied.
They ate quietly for a few moments with Astrid beaming at her any time their eyes met.
"Do you think, if you don't need me for a few days, I could visit a friend in Falkreath?" Nessa finally asked, a bit of her shyness returning.
"Oh," Astrid said, "a friend? Oh my goodness, my dear. I'm afraid not. You see, I need you to go to Solitude and murder the emperor."
Arnbjorn choked on his rabbit and it took Astrid pounding his back before he could breathe again.
Dammit Astrid, what are you up to?