#v|main

[ofconsandcoin]

{{continued from here}}

@deadlylockpicks

"Oh Bryn, how you wound me." Her snark matched his own, her hands coming up to clasp over her heart, feigning an injury. "Admit it, you missed me.  But, I do have to give you some credit, the place is still standing."

He feigned an insulted expression. “Did you think it would fall?” he asked with a short gasp. “I’m a little more than capable of keeping it from crumbling, lass,” he added with a smirk. “So, what brings you back to the city? You get bored out there? Can’t imagined life outside the guild is much fun.”

[ofconsandcoin]

"I guess this is the part where we shake hands and say 'nice to meet you', right?"

Brynjolf looked down at the fair-haired woman and unfolded his right arm from his chest. “Oh, sure, lass,” he replied. “You want me to pretend you didn’t leave us without a guild master, eh?” He snark was replaced by a genuine smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Bri.”

[ofconsandcoin]

Two Times Betrayed ||with thethievingbard||

Since the discovery of Mercer’s betrayal, and the return of the Skeleton Key, the guild’s luck changed for the better, and they were enjoying a flood of contracts and wealth. But word spread to the guards that someone else turned their back on the guild, and a member infiltrating the barracks passed that information on to Brynjolf.

Brynjolf had gathered everyone in the Cistern, even Tonilia, despite not being an official member of the guild. They’d all heard rumors, and he was here to confirm them, as much as it made his chest ache. Chatter and anxious whispers echoed against the stone walls, but they settled as he took his spot in the center.

“I know you’ve all heard rumors about Maven Black-Briar giving up the location of the guild,” he began, letting his voice fill the room. His gaze moved to each of the members, pausing on Madlen’s and holding a glint of fear, before passing on to the rest. “I’m afraid it’s worse than that. She’s given up the names of every member.”

Loud murmurs suddenly erupted, but Brynjolf raised his voice, garnering their attention once more. 

“They plan on attacking on Turdas,” he continued. “We have three days.”

“So, we fight!” Revyn near-shouted. 

Brynjolf crossed his arms and shook his head. “That wouldn’t matter. We can’t fight all of Riften. They know where we are and who we are.”

“What do we do then?” Rune asked. 

Letting out a sigh, Brynjolf’s heart sunk. “We leave,” he responded, pausing to allow his words to be taken in. “The guild must disband, and we should all separate. They might put bounties on our heads, so be careful out there.”

A few moments of silence passed and worried glances were shared between the thieves.

“Are... are you sure?” Sapphire asked, breaking the silence. She stared up at Brynjolf, eyes glassy and wide.

He nodded in response. “Yes, Sapphire. I’m sorry.” Speaking to everyone once again, he continued, “Please. There’s nothing we can do now. Maybe in a few years, we can... we can come back. Start again. But for now, this is the end of the Thieves Guild.”

He left the landing and walked over to where Madlen stood. Reaching out, he caressed her left cheek, running his thumb along her scar. “I know you’re not going to like this, Maddy,” he began, his voice a warning. “But you should leave without me. Maven will want the top ranking members out of the way, and she’d likely use the Dark Brother to do it.” Brynjolf and a few others had a great deal of information on Maven, and she couldn’t risk being exposed. 

His other hand moved to her other cheek, his eyes danced to each of hers. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “I can’t put you in danger like that, lass.” 

@thethievingbard

[ofconsandcoin]

☠ // wreck m e .

{{Meme}}

☠: my muse’s reaction to being told that your muse is missing, and presumed dead

Brynjolf blinks at Delvin a few times before his brows furrow in anger, believing it has to be some sick joke. The fence pushed his words, insisting he was telling the truth.

“Maven is sendin’ the Dark Brotherhood after us, Bryn,” Delvin said. “They got to Madlen shortly after ya left.” 

His hands shot up to his face, his finger tips dug into his eyes. “No. No. No. No,” he repeated. In a flash of anger, his right hand shot out in a fist, connecting with the wall. A soft cracking of knuckles sounded in the room.

Slamming his back against that same wall, he slid down to the floor with his knees up to his chest. His hands drove back into his hair, pulling harshly at the roots as he eyes stared at the blurrying floor. They stung as tears began to pool in his eyes before finally falling, leaving thing streaks down his face.

“No,” he said once more, his voice cracking. “I knew... I shouldn’t have... I should’ve stayed. I thought--I thought I was protecting her. We were safe. No one knew... she was safe. I shouldn’t have--I shouldn’t have left.”

Delvin knelt down in front of Brynjolf and gripped his shoulders. “You didn’t know, Bryn,” he tried to assure.

“I didn’t have to come back,” he choked. “I--It was foolish to think those--those plans would still be in here. What would we have even done with them?!”

“Ya wanted a big score so you an’ Madlen could have a life worth livin’,” Delvin replied, squeezing his shoulders. “This ain’t your fault. The Brotherhood would’ve found ya anyway, and even if ya managed to fight ‘em off, they would’a just sent more, and both of ya would’ve died.”

“They’re still going to be looking, Delvin,” Brynjolf said, his voice gaining. He pushed his friend away and returned to his feet. “They’re going to find me, and then I’m going to find her.”

“Bryn, she’s--”

“No. Not until I see her.”

“Brynjolf,” Delvin sighed. “What’re you gonna do? Try an’ capture one? Torture ‘em?”

“I’ll do whatever I need to to find her,” he reiterated, grabbing the collar of Delvin’s armor. His eyes were wide and crazed, glassy and bloodshot. “I love her, Delvin. I can’t just give up on her.”

[ofconsandcoin]

{{continued from here}}

Brynjolf cast a worried glance down the length of his body and let out a relieved sigh. He looked over at hers as well. “At least we’re not naked, eh?” he said, clearly not as rattled by the situation, or at least doing well to hide it.

He couldn’t remember if he kissed the “bride,” but that was probably for the best. It’d make an already awkward situation even worse, and the poor lass was stressed to the point of white-knuckling the furs.

In an attempt to alleviate some of her distress, he took her left hand and pulled the ring from her finger and did the same with his own. He held them out in front of her as if to remind her they weren't permanently attached. "Step one," he said with a smile.

"Step two," he began, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "Water." His head only spun more with each step he took and was even worse when he bent over and dug through his pack. He pulled out two water sacks and tossed one to Madlen, though his aim was a bit to the right.

Brynjolf returned to the bed and plopped down next to his now wife. "So, my wife," he said with a light chuckle, "I think we need to find that priest. See if he can do something about this."

[ofconsandcoin]

The Bedlam Job ||with thethievingbard||

Delvin had been insistent that the cities of Skyrim be reminded that the Thieves Guild was still a threat and operated at full strength. It might not have been true, but reputations were crucial, and the world couldn’t know the ill luck that had befallen the guild. The fence requested that Whiterun be scoured for its valuables and new shadowmarks be placed and old be updated. 

A job of this magnitude was best completed with two thieves, Brynjolf decided. He sought out Madlen, hoping she hadn’t ventured out into the city. She wasn’t in the domed area of the cistern, but the training room sounded occupied, and he swear he heard her voice bouncing off the stone walls.

He meandered over and found her shooting away at the targets while chatting with Vekel, though he seemed more interested than she did. As was the usual with any woman and Vekel. 

“Maddy,” he said, interrupting Vekel’s rambling. “There’s a big job in Whiterun I need help with. I’d like you to come with me, lass.”

@thethievingbard

[ofconsandcoin]

A Night in the Candlehearth ||closed with tamaretheimperial||

The inn was bustling that night, moreso than it had the last time he was in Windhelm. Brynjolf finished a job for the guild and was now sitting at the bar, warming himself with a mug of ale. It did the job better than the watered-down swill served at the Bee and Barb, but with Maven’s prices on her mead, he understood the need. She was a crooked business women through and through, which made her the perfect safeguard for the guild. 

Resting his elbow on the counter, he used his other hand to run his finger along the lip of his mug, going around in circles. His mind was occupied with worry for the guild; the coffers were tight and jobs seemed far and few in between. Skyrim was losing faith in the guild’s ability to come through, and several usual clients deemed them not worth the coin. Freelance thieves were running rampant through Skyrim, either getting caught or killing their marks in the process: both of which gave those belonging to the Thieves Guild a bad name. 

“You okay, hun?” the barkeep asked him.

His attention was immediately given to the woman, accompanied by a warm smile. “We all have something we drink for, eh, lass?”

She returned the smile. “That we do. Want another?” she asked, motioning to his near-empty mug.

“Aye. I’ll take another,” he replied. 

The barkeep refilled his mug and moved on to the other patrons after giving Brynjolf a sympathetic smile. He took a large swig from his drink and let out a satisfied sigh. For all its issues, Windhelm certainly had a fine inn.