#Maven Black-Briar Imagine
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Pinned Butterflies
Maven Black-Briar x Reader
Warnings: She's Evil, She's Maven Black-Briar. Not-so-graphic descriptions of a severed hand. Purplely Prose
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It started with gifts.
An extravagant dagger with crushed rubies in the blade. A fine, ornamental piece that came on the mounting rack. It was an impractical weapon, but a gorgeous show piece, so you placed it above your bed.
The finest silk tunic, adorned in goldwork flowers that danced in the firelight. It went on the mannequin in the basement. A, perhaps, unfitting place for such a fine garment.
Ivory-gold jewelery inlaid with flawless amethysts. They came in a velvet box, and that box sat on your nightstand.
Then, the hand of the thief that dared try and steal the jewlery off your finger, with your jewels tucked safe in their fist.
You closed the box, and stormed from your house, bareing down on Maven’s door with a heavy, angry hand.
You were greeted by Hemming, who ushered you into his mother’s room where she sat at her writing desk. She read by candlelight, her reading glasses on the tip of her nose. She grabbed a handful of papers, stood them upright and stabbed, before grabbing another handful.
“I was wondering if you’d come, I though surely you must have gotten at least one of my gifts”
“You call this a gift!” You branished your box, the thief’s hand heavy at the unsecured side.
Maven placed another perfected handful of papers on top of her growing stack. “Do you not appreciate having your jewelery returned to you?” She says, innocent as a poisoned apple.
“You did more than that, how am I supposed to rid myself of this. A hand, surely even you know how extreme that is?”
Maven laughs, short, sick, and sweet. “He’s not dead, and for your jewelery you could be more gracious.”
“You want me to thank you?”
Maven hummed, “Is that suprising?”
“I won’t fawn over your groteseque display, Maven”’
“Fawn, no, no,” Maven got up, laying waste to your personal space.
The box fell to your side, nearly out of your hand as the weight of it resettled.
Maven grabbed your cheeks with her hand, nearly piercing your skin with the length of her nails. “You mustn’t put words in my mouth, be grateful, I said, that I returned your jewelry, wear the tunic I bought you, adorn yourself with my amethyst.”
“Or?” You asked.
Maven frowned, though she looked away from you out the window, then back to you. Taking you in, consumption, she was swallowing you whole. Her fingers tight at your face, sure to leave bruises, if not incisions.
“I’ve only ever gotten what I wanted, or …” Maven hummed, “Taken it.”
She let go of your face, grabbed your hand delicatly, took the box that she could open it, uncurled the fist, and she took your pearls from their cold grasp, and closed the box. She held your hand soft as a bear trap, that she could put your ring on your finger.
You held your fist.
“I could break it,” She said,
“I’m not afraid of you Maven.”
“Because I don’t want you to be, but I could hurt you”
“As if I wouldn’t win that fight,” You said.
“Would you?” Maven asked. “Would Lydia, would Lucia? Or even that boy … Aventus?”
“You wouldn’t dare!” You tried to wrest your hand from her, but she held strong.
“Maybe I wouldn’t, maybe Sibbi would, or the Dark Brotherhood. Tamriel is full of swords-for-hire, many with no qualms about getting blood and tears on their hands.”
You gave Maven your finger, and she pressed the ring on.
“If I’d known you liked pearl more than amethyst,”
“I prefer whatever I earned myself.”
“As if my attention is something given freely, No, no, my time, my effort, are hard won. In time you will come to understand that, much better than you do now.”
You bent for the hand, but Maven waved off your attempt, “Leave it, I’ll make sure my next gift is less …” She said, a tiny smile graced her features, it brought a chill to the air, “extravagent.”
“Good-Night Maven,” You said, tight, it felt wrong to say.
But Maven smiled, and let up on your personal space, clearing a path to the doorway. You all but run home.
You slammed the door behind you, throw your back against it, as if you body could keep out the influence of Maven Black-briar.
The next day, a fine set of pearl earrings wait on your doorstep.
Cross-Posted on AO3
#Maven Black-Briar#maven black briar#Maven Black-Briar x Reader#Maven Black Briar x Reader#You may hate her#but I think she's neat#Reader Insert#Reader-Insert#Maven Blackbriar x Reader#Maven Blackbriar#TESV Imagine#Maven Blackbriar Imagine#Maven Black-Briar Imagine#Maven Black Briar Imagine#TESV#Skyrim Imagine#Skyrim#X Reader
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Chapter 27 - Twilight Sepulcher
Fic Series: At Long Last
Pairing: Brynjolf x Female Dovahkiin|Dragonborn (Adranelle Rolaine)
Premise: Eight years after being declared the Dragonborn, and three years after Alduin is defeated, Adranelle (Adi) Rolaine finds herself back in Riften to help Brynjolf with the Thieves Guild’s reputation.
Masterlist
Taglist: @thequeenofthewinter, @oblivions-dawn
Word count: 1, 196
A/N: Happy first night of Hanukkah if anyone else celebrates it :) I wanted to get through the Twilight Sepulcher in one chapter, but it ended up being a "two-part" so we'll see the return of the key next chapter. Hope you enjoy this one!
The weight of the key grew with each step in their journey to the Twilight Sepulcher. Brynjolf had offered to carry it for Adi, but the Dragonborn refused. She had it in her head that if anyone else were to take hold of the artifact, it wouldn’t get back to Nocturnal. She didn’t expect how much of a burden it would be.
Day and night, it would whisper to her, entice her into using it. The key’s magic would invade her dreams, giving her images of the ideal life. All the riches she could ever imagine, all the power, and the ability to expose Maven Black-Briar without even trying.
It would be wrong to assume she wasn’t tempted. It knew how to find her deepest desire and show how it could make it happen. All the power she could have… she could be more powerful than-
“Lass, we’re here,” Brynjolf halted Shadowmere.
“Hm?” Adi snapped out of her thoughts, looking at her surroundings. Brynjolf had taken the reins more than halfway through their journey after noticing Adi’s lack of focus. The key was messing with her mind, and he wanted her to be as safe as possible as they travelled to the Sepulcher.
Now that they were there, Brynjolf took the key from Adi’s possession and let her dismiss Shadowmere with the weight off her shoulders. “I’ll keep it with me for the rest of the journey, lass. We need you to have a clear mind.”
Adi nodded and faced Karliah, who had tailed them. “I don't understand why you won't come with us.”
“I've been a Nightingale for a very long time.” She said. “I sold my allegiance to Nocturnal in exchange for many profitable years of thieving. Falling in love with Gallus was wrong. It was a distraction that allowed the Sepulcher to be desecrated, and it likely cost him his life. Until the Key is returned, I will never set foot inside that place again.”
“Tell us about the conduit inside the Sepulcher.” Brynjolf requested.
“The conduit to Nocturnal's realm, the realm of Evergloam, has been in Skyrim... well, longer than recorded history,” Karliah explained. “The Twilight Sepulcher was constructed around it by man and mer in order to shield it from those who would exploit its power. Through this conduit, we're given Nocturnal's greatest gift, our luck. What she gains in return is a complete mystery.”
Karliah bid them good luck, and the two Nightingales headed inside. They walked into a large room, where a part of pillars led to a glowing figure - one of the sentinels - and a staircase behind him. On the upper level were higher stone pillars that formed into arches.
“I don't recognize you, but I sense that you're one of us. Who are you?” the figure turned to them, stopping Adi and Bryn in their tracks.
“I'd ask the same question of you,” Adi spoke calmly. Brynjolf was almost too shocked to speak.
“The last of the Nightingale Sentinels, I'm afraid.” He sighed. The sentinel sounded sad, defeated. Almost as if he had lost something when he was living. “I've defended the Sepulcher alone for what seems like an eternity.”
“The last? What happened to the rest?” Adi asked, taking a cautious step forward.
“We were betrayed by one of our own kind. In fact, I'm to blame for what's happened here.”
“How are you to blame?”
“I was blinded. Blinded by dark treachery masquerading as friendship.” What was he…? “Perhaps if I had been more vigilant, then Mercer Frey wouldn't have lured me to my fate and stolen the Skeleton Key.”
“Wait a moment... You're Gallus!” Adi and Bryn chorused together, looking at each other with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“I haven't heard that name in a long time. How do you know of me?” He brought the attention of the partners back to him..
“I have the Key,” Brynjolf said, showing Gallus the Skeleton Key. It felt heavy in his hand.
“The Key! You have the Skeleton Key!” Gallus’ demeanour changed with excitement and relief in his voice. “I never thought I'd see it again. And Mercer Frey?”
“Dead,” Adi spoke with venom, eyes darkening.
“Then... it's over, and my death wasn't in vain. I owe you both a great deal.”
“We did this to honour the Guild,” Brynjolf said truthfully.
“You've done the Guild a great deed.” Gallus gave a nod of acknowledgement, smiling under the mask. “ And although they may not show it, I'm certain they appreciate your sacrifices. My only regret is that you had to undertake this task alone.”
“Karliah helped us.”
“Karliah... she's still alive?” It was clear he still loved her, and it made Adi smile. “I feared she'd befallen the same fate, ending up a victim of Mercer's betrayal.”
“Take the Key and right all the wrongs.”
"Nothing would bring me more pride than to return the Key, but I'm afraid it's impossible. From the moment I arrived here, I've felt myself... well... dying."
“Then we’ll have to proceed alone.” Adi took Bryn’s hand, interlocking their fingers.
“I'm afraid so.” Gallus nodded. “I'm weakening, and I can feel myself slipping away. The years without restoration of my power have taken their toll. Whatever damage has been caused can only be corrected by following the Pilgrim's Path to the Ebonmere and replacing the Key.”
“What will we face in the Pilgrim's Path?” Brynjolf inquired.
“I wish I could help you, but I've been a prisoner in this very chamber for the last quarter century. The only possible help I've come across are the remains of some poor fellow who was trying to follow in your footsteps. Perhaps his journal can help?”
Gallus gestured to a skeleton East of him, and Adi and Bryn thanked him before moving to it. Adi picked up the journal and read it.
“Shadows of their former selves, sentinels of the dark. They wander ever more and deal swift death to defilers.
Above all, they stand, vigilance everlasting.
Beholden the murk yet contentious of the glow. Offer what She desires most, but reject the material. For her greatest want is that which cannot be seen, felt or carried.
Direct and yet indirect. The path to salvation a route of cunning with fortune betraying the foolish.
The journey is complete. The Empress's embrace awaits the fallen. Hesitate not if you wish to gift her your eternal devotion.”
“What do you think it means?” Brynjolf asked Adi as they read the words three times over.
“I think the first one will have us fighting Sentinels,” Adi explained. “The second one has something to do with Nocturnal, and I believe darkness? I’m not sure what the third clue is. Those seem to be the most important.”
“I guess we’ll find out,” Brynjolf shrugged. “Ready to begin, lass? I’d rather get this key returned sooner than later.”
“Let’s go, then,” Adi nodded. They returned to Gallus, journal in hand, and he greeted them.
“I see you’re ready.”
“As ready as we can be.” Adi had a good feeling about it. It seemed like this would be the easiest part of their journey. One that was almost over.
“Good luck, Nightingale.”
#tes: skyrim#skyrim#brynjolf#brynjolf x oc#the thieves guild#brynjolf fanfiction#fanfiction#riften#the thieves guild main quest#the dark brotherhood#twilight sepulcher#karliah#gallus#mercer frey
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another prompt from @blossom-adventures over in @nirnwrote land! the prompt was "that was a warning" combined with a sudden thought about "whatever happened to Maven Black-Briar's husband anyway?"
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The minute Sophrine bent down delightedly to pet the goat–because really, who would have expected to see a goat on Solstheim? –she was greeted by the sound of an arrow whizzing past her ear.
“That was a warning,” called a gruff, Nord-accented voice from near the farmhouse. “You get any ideas about stealing, the next one’s going in your heart.”
Sophrine held up her hands in surrender, turning to face the man sitting on a bench nearby. “No stealing, I swear! Just goat-petting. I’m one of those animal-loving tourists you sometimes hear about.”
The man snorted. He was an older gentleman, rather good-looking, with silver-streaked dark hair and a drooping mustache. He rather reminded Sophrine of someone, though she wasn’t sure who.
“Don’t suppose you might be a customer as well?” he said. “Anyone in Raven Rock will tell you that old Sid’s goat cheese is the finest on the island. Well, the only goat cheese on the island. It is good, though.”
“I’d love to try some. I am a goat cheese connoisseur.” Sophrine took a few steps closer, squinting. “You look familiar, somehow. Did I ever run into you on the mainland? Or one of your relatives, maybe?”
“Doubt it,” Sid replied gruffly. “I don’t go to the mainland. You’re probably thinking of someone else.”
“Maybe, but I still think…that’s it!” Sophrine snapped her fingers. “Have you ever been to Riften? I saw a painting of a man that looks just like you, fellow named Siegfried…” Her eyes widened as understanding hit. “Siegfried Black-Briar.”
Sid went pale, but his expression didn’t change. “Never heard of him. Grand fella like that wouldn’t spend much time in Solstheim.”
“No, I imagine he wouldn’t,” Sophrine agreed. “Especially as he was eaten by giants fifteen years ago. Unless, somehow, he wasn’t?”
“If he wasn’t,” Sid said gruffly, “he’d have had a good reason for wanting folks to think he was.”
“Oh, I believe it.” Sophrine took a cautious seat next to the old farmer. “I can’t help wondering what that reason was.”
“Look, you’re not some sort of mercenary sent to harass suspected fugitives, are you?” Sid demanded. “I may be old, but if you try anything, I’m still more than able to defend myself.”
“Nothing of the sort. I’m just a deeply nosy woman who loves a good story, and it sounds like you might know one.”
Sid took a long swig from his mug and, resignedly, nodded. “I might know an interesting tale. None of it true, of course. Let’s say there was this young man, about thirty years ago, traveling around the Rift. He’d made a good living as a sellsword and was feeling ready to settle down, have a family. And then let’s say he met this girl.”
“Pretty?”
“As a picture. Rich family, too. One thing led to another, and soon enough there was a wedding and a few youngsters. Maybe along the way the wife’s parents passed and left her a tidy fortune. Sounds like a good life, eh?”
“The best! But I suppose it didn’t last?”
“Afraid not. The wife, you see, was always an ambitious one, and the money brought out the worst in her. She got involved in all sorts of schemes and scams, and it got harder and harder to remember she’d been a bright, likable young woman once. The kids weren’t turning out well either–how could they, in that kind of house?”
“That must have been hard on their father,” said Sophrine.
“He was a weak man, and it took him some time to wake up. Then something happened that made him realize he couldn’t stay.”
“What was it?”
“There was this family,” said Sid. “Nice people, traditional–worshiped the Nine, worked a farm outside the city. It was nothing very prosperous, but had a beautiful location. Well, the ambitious woman decided she wanted that land to build a new hunting lodge. She offered the family a good price, but they wouldn’t sell. So…” Sid shook his head heavily. “She turned them in to the Thalmor as heretics.”
Sophrine couldn’t suppress a gasp. Even for Maven, that was evil. “What happened to the family?”
“They were all arrested–the ma, the pa, even the little girls–and the house was burned to the ground. The jarl seized the land and sold it to the rich woman and for dirt cheap. That’s when the husband realized his family had grown rotten to the core, and it was time to escape before he himself was beyond redemption. And he’d have to disappear permanently, so his wife would never track him down.”
“I can’t blame him,” said Sophrine. “How did he manage it?”
“Luckily, there was a giant camp near town. One night the husband killed a troll and dressed it up like him. When he tossed it into the camp…well, giants don’t refuse a free meal. A few days later, when the guard finally investigated, all they found was a few bones, some clothes, and a wedding ring.”
“By which time, I bet, the husband was already on a ship.”
“Indeed he was. And–were he real–I imagine he felt free for the first time in years.”
“The life of a farmer would suit that sort of man much better, I’m sure,” said Sophrine. “Still, I can’t help but think: no matter how horrible they were, would a man like that ever miss his family?”
Sid gazed out over the pasture, eyes rather misty. “S’pose he might,” he said. “At least, what they could have been, back before all that greed and cheating. Even if he knows there’s no going back.”
“Maybe it’s for the best if they think he’s dead,” said Sophrine. “But could it also be for the best if a random stranger–who has a surprising amount of pull in Riften–were to keep an eye on them? She could make sure they don’t go too far.”
Sid offered her a faint, somewhat surprised smile. “Aye,” he said. “He might well appreciate that.”
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WIP Wednesday (on Thursday)!
I was tagged by @throughtrialbyfire, though admittedly I've not long woken up and saw the tag, and it's just gone 7:25am on Thursday morning! I also know I did actually post a WIP yesterday, on Wednesday, but what's another one, eh?
I wouldn't know who to tag (still quite new here so don't really have much of a clue!!) but if anyone wants to do it and say that I've tagged them then go ahead :)
This is an excerpt from something which happens later down the line in The Perfect Storm, so may have some spoilers for events to come but honestly I just really like it and is probably one of the few coherent parts of the wip which isn't a massive list of bullet points.
For a little context though, Elyse had Riften and Markarth change hands when she needed to get access to Dragonsreach to capture Odahviing, hence why Maven is Riften's Jarl.
“So, I have heard about something which has recently happened in Whiterun which has... Piqued my interest,” Maven stated as she poured them both a mug of mead each, whilst Elyse did her best not to get distracted by the brewing storm clouds she could see forming in the west from their position on the keep’s balcony. “You have recently invested in Honningbrew Meadery, and are officially a stakeholder in Sabjorn’s... Business.”
She should have known the invitation to Riften would have been laced with ulterior motives – Maven’s entire life was one of contracts, schemes, and underhanded business. “You have heard correctly,” she responded, not letting the bitter frustration which threatened to overtake the rancid sweetness of the mead fill her mouth. “As both a resident of Whiterun, and a Thane of Whiterun Hold, it is an honour to fund and partake in local businesses and their dealings,” and then, she decided to let some of the venom go – her nonchalant swirling of the honeyed liquid in her mug not going unmissed. “There are so few pleasures that feel greater than ending the day with a drink which warms the soul that comes from your doorstep, from flowers and bees which you see when going about your daily business. I could imagine that it is quite the same for your mead – it no doubt tastes better from the source in Riften when compared to anywhere else.”
Either she had somehow been able to disguise her distaste for the way in which the conversation had gone, or Maven was simply very good at masking that she had picked up on her undertones. All that Maven did was give off an enlightened hum as she sipped at her mead in a manner which felt almost... Pretentious.
“Is that so...” She then placed the mug down. “What made you decide to invest? Was it... Spontaneous, or did something inspire you to do so?”
That was a suspicious question. Was Maven trying to get her to put her money into her business too? She had to hold back a scowl as that crossed her mind.
“I see no reason why that would be relevant, beyond it not being something coerced from me – it is something which I did off my own back.”
“And didn’t involve... Perhaps... Wanting to protect Sabjorn from sabotage? Skeevers and madmen, perhaps?’
How did Maven know that?! Unless...
“Mallus was working for you. Not Sabjorn,” she muttered, the pieces all beginning to fit together. Balgruuf had threatened to close both Honningbrew Meadery and Chillfurrow Farm if the skeever problem was not sorted, and suddenly, the problem intensified... In particular in the run up to a mead tasting for the Jarl. She had handled the problem after finding a skeever nest where the creatures were breeding and being fed far too well for vermin... And when she had checked in on the meadery vats, she was attacked by a madman and Mallus Maccius, who both got apprehended by the guards in the aftermath. “You... You wanted Balgruuf to believe that Sabjorn had tried poisoning him so that you could get Mallus named as proprietor with Sabjorn in prison, and switch it over to a Black-Briar meadery!”
Maven scoffed smugly. “Those are your words, Dragonborn. Not mine. And where is your proof, hm? Such accusations towards a Jarl are quite unheard of.”
But she never denied the claims.
That wretched, foul-
“Alas... I will forgive you for such accusations if you were to do a little... Something for me.”
Elyse could feel her jaw tensing and her hands sweating against the mug. She didn’t want to drink any more – she had finally pinpointed why Black-Briar mead tasted so bad to her: the treachery and deceit behind it.
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Clothing style
Accent
Hobbies
And if Sylvie can marry me ajjfjdk xD
Sorry for the late reply!! I've been so busy 😭 But thank you so much for the ask!
Clothing Style
This is a bit tough because it changes quite a bit!!! She's a bit of a fashionista! Growing up, she wore lots of light, airy dresses in shades of gold and cream. Once thrown into Skyrim, she wears hand-me-down leather armor that she received from Gerdur or anything she can pick off of bandits. She starts to get money once she's a member of the Thieves Guild and can afford more fitted armor. She usually sticks to dark brown leather and shades of blue. However, she wears red during the Companion storyline (& during Unstable!) She also has a wolf fur shoulder cape that she stole may have stolen from Maven Black-Briar. It's her favorite piece of clothing!
I have a whole Pinterest board of outfit inspo for her! Maybe I should link it 😅
Accent
I imagine she has a RP English accent. At least, that's the accent I picture for the Summerset Isles.
Hobbies
She loves reading about history!!! She has also been keeping a journal and likes to doodle during any downtime.
And if Sylvie can marry me
Absolutely!!! Just tell me when and where, and I'll send her on over ;D
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Between you and me, any mods involving Lady Black Briar? I imagined her as a femme fatale type boss, but her model is just….nice to me. And no fanart of her that I could find.
She’s sort of an old crone type. Maven literally means crone, and she’s pretty assholish in general. Imagine a boomer that is both a Karen and the manager at the same time
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The one who lived: chapter 2, part 4 "Sellsword"
This isn't actually a work in progress, it's published on my wattpad
But I've been having writers block for the last couple days, so I figured I'd share it here
Enjoy some Brynjolf angst
Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter
(Brynjolf's pov)
I walked into the palace of kings, following behind Maven. The lass is looking to set up a new location for Black-Briar mead... but she's also arrived with some alternative motives, wants me to swipe some documents "Maven Black-Briar I presume" Ulfric Stormcloak greeted Maven, "who have you brought with you?" He asked, eyeing me up and down. I had to resist the urge to glare at the man, this is nerve-racking to say the least. I'm surrounded by men, if I can even call them that, who would have no problem taking their blades to my family, this has me more than on edge. "My personal guard" Maven replied, gesturing to me. I've dawned my Nightingale armor for this, the ability to become invisible upon crouching has become almost invaluable to me, I've already lost track of how many time's it's saved my ass. "Very well, follow me" Ulfric said, smiling at Maven. Phbbt, please. Does this guy think he's a lady's man? I admit to being cocky but I can't tell which is more uncomfortable, me standing here in this wretched place or this Ulfric Stormcloak trying to act noble
Now let me make one thing clear, I'm on neither side of this war but I can't stand the Nords in Windhelm. Mostly for their mistreatment of the dark elves, Argonians and Khajiit. I grew up with them after all, our little village was mostly dunmer, some Khajiit and a handful of Argonian and Nord families. I let out an internal sigh, those were simpler times. "Here we are, step inside my office darling" Ulfric explained. "Wait here for me alright?" Maven said, turning to me. "Aye lass" I replied nodding. Maven walked into the room the so called jarl closed the door behind him, now time for me to get to work
I wondered the halls of the palace for a few minutes, worried I wouldn't find the papers in time, given how big this place is. Suddenly a door opened in front of me, I peeked my head around the corner "Hmm, no guards. Who opened the door then?" I pondered quietly. "I did" oh great. "Mercer, now is not the time" I scolded, as the blue spectral of my betrayer appeared. "Look at the desk" Mercer sighed, shaking his head. I took a closer look and sure enough, the documents I was after "I'm trying to help you for once, when I was guildmaster I always avoided sending you to windhelm all together. Always found it kind of ironic how uncomfortable you are around Nords considering you are one" Mercer's voice echoed in a wispy whisper. "Well now, that's not something I expected to hear. We'll talk back in the Cistern, for now I need to get back to my post" I explained, adjusting my face cover, ya know, concealed identity and all that.
(Maven's pov)
"I like the way you think Maven" Ulfric explained, agreeing. "May I ask about your...guard?" He asked. "I don't see why not" I said, shifting almost uncomfortably in my seat. "He seems like a quiet Nord..." The jarl started, "but the armor, I've never seen anything quite like it. Nor do I believe I've heard his accent anywhere" he added. "You know just as much as me in that regard, he's a private man, he does his job so I don't pry too much" I explained, mentally scoffing. Brynjolf is one of the most talkative thieves I've ever met, if he's flirting with you chances are you'll probably get along well with him. "Very well, I'll order my men to fix up that tavern for you" he smiled. "Then I have done what I came to do" I said, trying to get a hint across. "Right, I'd imagine a noble woman such as yourself is rather.. busy" Ulfric sighed. We stood and made our way to the door, I sure hope Brynjolf was able to find those papers. A seemingly impossible task, yes. But if anyone can do it, it's the second in command of the thieves guild
As the door opened, I was pleased to see Brynjolf standing with his arms behind his back. He hadn't been caught at least, "are we ready Black-Briar?" He asked, I'd never tell him this but he's a particularly good actor, suppose it comes with the territory. Suddenly, the door to the jarl's office was slammed shut from the inside and it sounded like an atronach detonated within the room "Shor's Blood.." Brynjolf muttered. Some guards came running towards Ulfric "is everything alright jarl?" One guardsmen asked. "I'm not sure" Ulfric explained, gently pushing the office door open and the guards followed him in. When they're backs were turned, Brynjolf taped me on the shoulder. I turned to him, wondering what he wanted. The thief handed me some papers, he had in fact... collected the documents I'd asked for.
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Content warning: more politics and games, this time Skyrim edition. Click at your own risk.
mehagain: Out of curiosity, how would Skyrim’s Imperial vs Stormcloak thing fit in this trend? That was my main exposure to rather heated “if you support x you support facism/racism/classism/imperialism/etc.” arguments where both sides slug that accusation at each other before 3H gave that flavor an annoying resurgence in my dash, so would be interested in how you’d compare that particular mess to others
...ah, Stormcloaks and Imperials. That’s a classic internet flame war. I remember those arguments from a decade ago.
The short answer here is that Bethesda don’t sketch out the sides with enough detail to make this worth analysing in too much detail, in my opinion. I think the most interesting thing about this conflict is that the game at first seems to guide you towards the Stormcloaks, but then the further you get into the game, the more the Stormcloaks seem terrible and the Empire is presented much more positively.
So the Empire try to kill you at the start, for no reason but laziness and bureaucratic incompetence, and on the surface the Stormcloak cause – religious freedom – looks obviously sympathetic. But this is pretty much all the case for the Stormcloaks, and as you go on the game seems to try harder to rub your face in Stormcloak flaws (their obvious racism, their thuggery, Ulfric’s horrible mishandling of Markarth, etc.) while presenting more sympathetic Empire-aligned characters (Balgruuf, Elisif). In hindsight it might have been better to allow the Stormcloaks to address some of those issues, while also displaying the Empire’s flaws more prominently?
For instance, the case against the Empire seems like it ought to include corruption (there’s Erikur in Solitude, again all of Markarth, and it’s the Empire that will appoint crime lord Maven Black-Briar as jarl of Riften), as well as arrogance and high-handed disregard for the native people of Skyrim. Would it have been harder to show us more Imperial mismanagement, perhaps focusing on extracting Skyrim’s wealth and sending it abroad, or perhaps showing Tullius being unsympathetically dismissive of local concerns? One of the problems you have is that apparent instances of Imperial high-handedness or mismanagement generally turn out, on closer inspection, to be justified: the Imperial ban on Talos-worship is obviously half-hearted and insincere and they intend to reverse it as soon as possible, and the Imperial refusal to recognise Ulfric as High King after he killed Torygg in a duel seems very reasonable. There seem to be easy ways to ‘darken’ the Empire and make it a bit more ambiguous.
Likewise the Stormcloaks would come off better if they were allowed to actually defend themselves against some of the strongest arguments against them. Would it have been so hard, for instance, to include a single line where you can challenge Ulfric about Stormcloak racism to his face? I can easily imagine Ulfric replying with something like, “The Argonians and the Dark Elves, like us, know the pain of the Empire’s oppression. My cause is freedom for all who call Skyrim home. But we Nords have long memories, and many of my brothers and sisters have not yet accepted the other races as our allies. I hope that our fight for liberation will help us to overcome old hatreds and unite. Will you aid us?”
As it is, I feel like Skyrim tries to trick you at the start into siding with the Stormcloaks, and then goes, “Surprise! They were the bad guys all along!” That’s not ideal, I think, if both choices are meant to feel plausible and morally defensible.
(That said I will note that I may be just reifying my own biases here. Conservative friends have told me before that I am too habitually institutionalist, and I automatically side against scruffy regular people protesting against prestigious organisations. Given that, well, the Stormcloaks are definitely the scruffier, more low-class faction, I shouldn’t count out the possibility of unconscious bias against them.)
On the political valence of it…
Look, I’ve read those articles saying that Skyrim is an alt-right fantasy world too. I don't like them any more than you do. That said, in this case… yes, I do see how you can read the Stormcloaks as racist, fascist, alt-right, and so on. The Stormcloaks are an ethnonationalist militia led by a charismatic leader trying to overthrow traditional authorities and remove the weakening influence of internal traitors so that they can pursue a policy of expansion and race war against foreign enemies. The fascist reading of the Stormcloaks is clearly not coming out of nowhere.
In some ways I’m glad that Skyrim is a 2011 game and predates a lot of the drama about this, because if it had been published only a few years later, well, the ‘Make Skyrim Great Again’ jokes just write themselves, don’t they? In the much more fraught political climate of post-2015, I don’t think you could have made Skyrim. I think there are ways that Skyrim could have handled its central debate better, but it is at least good that it exists at all. I think particularly after the first four TES games were all very strongly pro-Empire or positioned the player on the Empire’s side (even as Daggerfall and Morrowind showed us some of the Empire’s flaws), it is nice to have a game where you can turn against the Empire, and the Stormcloaks raise interesting questions about complicity, compromise, and so on.
After all, politically I think it would be a mistake to automatically read populist rebellions, like the Stormcloaks, as being reactionary or right-wing? The Empire is, well, an empire, so if you frame it instead as mistreated natives rising up against a distant imperial authority that has treated them poorly, disrespected their traditions, and exploited their lands, you’d think there’s a very easy left-wing or postcolonial reading of it. If the Stormcloaks were brown-skinned I don’t think you’d get many people worried about alt-right readings of them.
So it might be worth clarifying here – my earlier post was by no means meant to suggest that games like Dragon Age: Inquisition or Fire Emblem: Three Houses are bad and should not exist. I actually think they’re quite interesting, and I’m not interested in ‘cancelling’ anything. A hypothetical rewrite to Three Houses that made Edelgard less Hitler-esque would probably make the game much less interesting overall. If Edelgard were not a power-hungry charismatic dictator she’d be a lot less compelling. The way her vision can be compelling despite the political resonances, especially for people who would identify more on the left, creates some intriguing tensions, and that’s great. I want to read these games as presenting us with interesting challenges, rather than just saying that they’re bad and shouldn’t exist.
That said I would be interested in more RPGs like Dragon Age 2 or Knights of the Old Republic II, which challenge some of these tropes or deconstruct the RPG protagonist. DA2 is particularly fascinating – Hawke, unlike most BioWare protagonists, is strikingly unable to effect any social change. Hawke has all the same powers as other protagonists, including both the ability to kill pretty much anything in personal combat and the charisma to persuade so many people to see his/her point of view, but unfortunately those powers are not actually enough to make a better world. Kirkwall is resilient and Hawke cannot defeat it.
But to Skyrim as a whole…
Yes, I see the racist/fascist read of the Stormcloaks, but I don’t think that reading is mandatory. Likewise there is an obvious imperialist reading of the Empire (duh), but again I don’t think that siding with the Empire requires being in favour of imperialist exploitation. The text does not handle the Empire/Stormcloak issue as well or in as nuanced a way as I would have liked, but I think it is sufficiently open to interpretation to be, well, interesting.
Just as long as we don’t have flame wars where we call each other vile names for preferring the magic Vikings over the magic Romans or vice versa. That’s definitely too far.
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for the tes alphabet: NOBLE + Nim aaaaand TRICK + Valeria!!
ahhh thank u !!! my two fav girls <3
skyrim oc ask meme
Nim
Nord: What’s their overall option on the Nordic people of Skyrim?
Considering Nim herself is a snow elf, she isn't very fond of them! Obvs she's met a few Nords that weren't all "sKyRiM bElOnGs To ThE nOrDs!!!!1!!" & she was nice to them, but overall she's not too keen on them lol
Outsider: How would your muse respond to being call this upon arriving in either Markarth or Solstheim?
She's pretty used to it at this point so her general response is just to shrug it off & roll her eyes lmao just let her do what she needs to do & she'll be gone.
Beauty: How does your character tend to their appearance? Do they wear any special armor or clothing during their day to day activities?
Nim isn't very vain, but she does take pride in her appearance & tends to it when her & the gang have like. downtime in whatever city they're currently in. Like when she's just running around Whiterun, her hair is neat & she's wearing a simple dress. When she's running around Skyrim, she's got heavy armor (that I headcanon she had enchanted to be lighter--she just wanted more bodily protection than what light armor can despite not being physically fit enough to withstand the weight lol).
Lich: How dose your muse view necromancy and the undead?
She thinks it's creepy & weird & hates that she has to keep going into tombs full of them to learn more shouty dragon words </3
Education: Did they receive a formal education growing up, or did they learn a trade from their parent(s)?
She learned most of the magic she knows from her mother, but for general schooling she didn't really have much of it due to the whole. forced into hiding because she's a snelf. but she & her family did, at one point, take shelter in a temple to syrabane for a while, & it had lots of books & such that Nim def read. Current day, she's still reading a lot in an effort to catch up on what she missed.
Valeria
Thalmor: What’s their opinion of ‘elven supremacy’ and the aldmeri dominion?
As an Imperial, she understandably dislikes the Dominion & obvs doesn't subscribe to the whole "elven supremacy" thing.
Reading: Can your muse read, if they then what’s their favorite book?
She's very educated considering she was once a noblewoman, but I don't really picture her as a big reader. Her favourite book would probably be Surfeit of Thieves.
Inn: What dose a typical visit to an inn entail for your character? What foods do they normally order?
The inn she frequents the most would be the Bee & Barb, though she doesn't stay there. She'll go up there to have a decent meal every once in a while & sometimes Brynjolf will tag along. She always orders something warm, like a stew.
Companions: Dose your character have any close friends or traveling companions?
Her closest friend would be Vex in the Thieves Guild! The two didn't get along at all at first due to how similar they are, but eventually they became thick as thieves (ha) & whenever they're together it's always trouble.
Kindness: Dose your muse donate to any temples or help any beggars?
She for sure gives out coin to the poor--I imagine that after she takes over, the Guild starts to go back a little to their roots of robin hood-esque crime where they can (unfortunately Valeria sees Maven Black-Briar as a necessary ally to keep the Guild up and running).
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Here's a guide that no one asked for and I doubt anyone will read, to my Skyrim dragonborn OCs. They don't exist in the same timeline (except for when I am imagining funny memes that are too hyperspecific for me to even bother making).
Dalinan : 7' tall orc alchemist who refuses to make/use any sort of poison whatsoever. Favors the bow. Absolute dogshit at stealth unless she has access to her invisibility potions. Half-raised by her cousin. Not from a stronghold and has complex feelings about lacking that cultural connection. War Trauma ™ (child soldier edition). Dutiful to a grim fault. Tends to have extensive and increasingly ludicrous back-up plans for if/when things go awry. Resting bitch face but an absolute softie. Will adopt you if she detects emotional vulnerability (inherited that trait from her cousin, who recently took over the Riften orphanage for reasons only Maven Black-Briar knows in full). Absolutely detests leeks, 0/10, worst vegetal ever. Ends up in a poly relationship with Taliesin and Caryalind. When Cary is ready to go home in a decade or two they both go with him (he takes some convincing, but neither she nor Tali would ever let him go alone). She becomes captain of Cary's personal guard + Tali becomes an advisor; there's no end to the speculation about the relationship between the three of them but no one is going to risk actually asking. Dalinan showing up to formal events in ancient snow elf armor and bearing Auriel's bow and shield is the kind of power move that intimidates even people who don't care a fig about the whole Dragonborn business. And shhhh about lifespans okay, we're going to pretend that orcs age like other mer. Shhhh. Let the lady grow old with her partners.
Amejja : khajiit arsonist. tiny. is on the run from a hefty bounty in cyrodiil. claims that her victims deserved it. plays the 'but this one is just a little kitty. a birthday cat. are you going to arrest me on my birthday, guardsman? sad meow?' card to get out of soooo much trouble. decides that Taliesin is her fun uncle; he's honored and also mildly terrified of the prospect of her meeting his sisters (the mayhem would be legendary). learning to shout is the #1 best thing that ever happened to her. fire shout? AMAZING! dragons? eh. big scaly cats. 'surely we can come to an agreement, can't we my cousins???' super annoyed that she actually has to kill Alduin. when Delphine asks her to kill Paarthurnax she attacks her instead because fuck you that's why. flirts with joining both the thieves' guild and the dark brotherhood but betrays and destroys them both over feeling slighted by them. Decides that being dragonborn = being Miraak's baby sister; decides to rescue him. this confuses the Miraak. Besties with Lucien and Khash (both are mildly afraid of her in a fond sort of way), friendly rivals with J'zargo. Extremely distrustful of anything to do with dwemer ruins or machinery, but tolerates it for Remi's sake (some hissing is involved). Will absolutely destroy anyone/anything that harms Scrap. Doesn't join the Dawnguard. Will purr to heal you (purring is a healing spell) but you'd better appreciate it! She's a young gal with wanderlust who just wants to see the world (and set parts of it on fire).
T'Vreyne : Vulcan, Starfleet officer, aro/ace NB, vegetarian, here via daedric tomfoolery/a shuttlecraft mishap. Doesn't initially speak Tamrielic Common and so communicates mostly through frustrated charades and extremely reluctant touch-telepathy until they learn (...from Tali and Gore, so you can just imagine the vocabulary T'Vreyne ends up with). Their background is in security with a specialization in EOD and they've been working as a 'special collections' (read: highly hazardous artifacts) archivist since The Accident. Has significant scarring, chronic pain, and a prosthetic arm due to The Accident. Prefers stealth to avoid unnecessary conflict, then magic/shouts to de-escalate if possible, and then if violence is unavoidable favors a simple one-handed sword. Absolutely refuses to use enchanted equipment due to the whole Soul Cairn of it all. Mistaken for an Altmer by everyone who isn't Altmer; Altmer tend to assume that they're a [derogatory term for mixed-heritage mer]. Has zero (0) respect for Elenwen & thinks she's utterly incompetent; reads her for absolute filth at the truce conference. Other than negotiating the truce does not interfere with the civil war whatsoever (prime directive and all that). Their EOD experience comes into play during the College of Winterhold questline. Becomes close friends with Teldryn during the whole Miraak thing. When Starfleet finally manages to contact them, they choose to stay on Nirn instead of going 'home'. Settles down in Raven Rock and eventually invites Teldryn, Taliesin, and Gore to move in. Occasionally one or more of them will get the itch to travel, but that's home now and they always end up back there before long. T'Vreyne will not be telling you where all those elder scrolls and black books are stashed unless you have a good fucking reason (they've come full circle and once again find themselves to be a special collections archivist whoops).
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For the Tarot Ask: The Magician, The Sun, and Three of Wands
Thanks for the ask! Answering from this list.
01. THE MAGICIAN: SPARK OF MAGIC (What inspired you to write your novel?)
The answer changes a bit depending on which book we're talking about, all varying levels of cool. Sorry, I'm about to talk a lot.
For TOOD, the biggest catalyst was, well, a few things. I was in a queer lit class in college that I absolutely hated tbh. For my final, I made a short zine/collection? about the nonbinary experience from my perspective and one thing I included in that was a short story called Morning Afters, which was about two people who ended up being the main characters of TOOD. The MC, Quinn, is someone whose body changes every day, and they are trying to leave their fuck-buddy's house before they wake up but end up being discovered and the two bond over their different gender experiences.
I also had really nasty beef with this one cishet indie author dude who considered himself the savior of the gays and said queer people are so bad at writing their own books he has to do it for them--yes, really--so I wrote TOOD to spite him because he's a shitty man and a shittier author.
Anyway.
TWEfA was born out of my love of the Soulsborne franchise and also from the cannibalized corpse of an older novel I wrote a very long time ago. When I was like. Fifteen. A lot has changed since then. Maka and Dakota have stayed the most true to their original selves and I kinda... rebuilt everything around them. I'm sure some elements of it were also inspired by Madoka Magica. In fact, I guarantee some of it was.
Little Vicious Minds came about because I was playing Skyrim and am very mad still about the limited options of what you can do with/to Maven Black-Briar and so I resolved to make a story about someone who decides to destroy her criminal empire. And it kinda,,, blossomed from there.
Lilium was really a love letter to my depressed teenaged self because I wrote it originally in high school when everything fucking sucked. I see myself a lot in both of the main characters in different ways. It's also about your dead brother coming back as a demon which I have no real experience with so. *shrugs*
ASMLP started as a random thought because I love spellbooks and think they aren't used enough in fantasy so I resolved to write a book that required spellbooks and then I... made a whole magic and college system around that and it kind of evolved from there.
BTMS started as me wanting to write vampire erotica and became... very much not that.
I could go on. It really does just depend.
19. THE SUN: POSITIVITY (What is your greatest writing strength or skill?)
I like to think I'm good at dialogue and also at making people fucking sad. Highest praise I think I've gotten yet is a comment/review I got about Lilium about how well I got across the sense of loss and grief one of the MCs endures--and this is before I had lost anyone in my life to the inevitability of death. I don't want like. Instagram-worthy prose or anything but I would like for someone to feel like I just ripped their heart out of their chest and presented it to them when they're done reading, you know? And I think I'm pretty great about that so far.
66. THREE OF WANDS: FORESIGHT (Do you know what your book cover is going to look like? Do you have a color in mind?)
I don't have to imagine for ASMLP, because I already have one! You can see it here. As for my other works.... mmmm...Back when I wrote on Wattpad, I had to have a kind of idea for a cover because you were shooting yourself in the foot if you posted books without covers there. But since leaving there... well, not entirely. I also haven't gotten as far/thought as far ahead as I have with ASMLP--and in truth part of me buying the cover was to give myself an incentive to finish the fucking book. So far has been kind of working. I'm trying to finish by March lol
I haven't thought about covers for anything else yet. I should start doing so for BTMS since I want to publish it before or after ASMLP so we'll see. My main rules about covers is I vehemently refuse to have people on the cover. I hate it. Loathe it. The shadowed hands for ASMLP is as close to having people on the cover as I'm willing to get. I want my covers to have fancy typography or to make a focal point of important objects. I will settle for nothing less.
Thanks again for the ask and sorry for talking your ear off!
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I know Commander Maro sending the Dark Brotherhood is an interesting joke, but I personally believe it's Maven Black-Briar. (A bit of a spoiler but) There is evidence of a Black Sacrament in her basement with a note complaining that her target isn't dead yet. Thought you might like to know. :)
why would she be so insistent upon it? and even before the dragonborn has set foot in riften? if this is true then gods that woman is weird
to be honest it feels like -- as with the letters from a friend -- it's kind of supposed to be several different people. but it's funnier to imagine it being just the one
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Chapter 18 - Snow Veil Sanctum
Fic Series: At Long Last
Pairing: Brynjolf x Female Dovahkiin|Dragonborn (Adranelle Rolaine)
Premise: Eight years after being declared the Dragonborn, and three years after Alduin is defeated, Adranelle (Adi) Rolaine finds herself back in Riften to help Brynjolf with the Thieves Guild's reputation.
Masterlist
CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of mutilated horse
Taglist: @thequeenofthewinter, @oblivions-dawn
Word count: 1, 340
A/N: Another double update today!! For the following two weeks, I won't be posting any chapters, so I can have the time to get into the groove of school. After that, updates will be every two weeks. I want to be able to keep my focus to my classes with the amount of stuff I'm taking on this year, and I want to also ensure quality in the fic chapters. There should be about 35 chapters in total? But I have yet to finish writing it - although I'm almost done. Once I do I'll update that on here :) Hope you enjoy the two chapters today, and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)
With one final kiss from Brynjolf before she set off with Mercer, Adi mounted Shadowmere and followed the Breton man as they travelled from the Rift to Winterhold. The journey was long and tiring, although the cold wasn’t bothersome to Adi. While she was adorned in the Shrouded Armour - Mercer preferring her to wear those in place of the Guild armour since she’d have a better chance at sneaking up on Karliah - she had mastered using destruction magic to keep herself warm in the cold climate. It was the first thing she learned when at the College. The half-Breton was not used to such extreme conditions.
Travelling with Mercer wasn’t the most entertaining. Whenever she travelled with a companion - whether it be Brynjolf or Lydia - there was always some sort of conversation to be had. Mercer was quiet, watching out for any trouble at every second. Adi found him almost too paranoid but said nothing on the matter. She was distracted enough by her own thoughts - especially by what Brynjolf had said to her the night before she left.
“Lass, before you go to bed…”
“What is it?”
“Remember when I told you I found something regarding your lineage?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Your mother wasn’t listed on the Orphanage registry, but I did some digging and found out who she is.”
“What’s her name? Do I already know her?”
“Adi, your mother is Maven Black-Briar.”
She expected as much, with how much she resembled the woman, but it still came as a shock. Adi spent her life hating the woman with a passion and for everything the Black-Briar’s stood for. Now knowing that Maven was her mother and didn’t want her? The hurt was deeper than anyone could ever imagine. It made Adi upset, of course, but her anger was simmering underneath the surface. If she weren’t careful, it would boil over and cause her to do something she would regret. No… she needed a proper plan to get revenge on the Nord woman. Something that would paint herself as innocent and reveal Maven’s true nature to all of Riften.
Especially to Jarl Laila.
The Jarl was oblivious to the real problem in Riften - the real corruption. Her closest confidant - the Black-Briar - was the main cause of it all and had an iron grasp on the Hold. If she were to find evidence and take it to Laila, Maven’s life would be in shambles, and Riften could be rebuilt on something better. Maybe, just maybe, even the Jarl could regain her power and reputation.
“Adranelle,” Mercer snapped her out of her thoughts. “Scout the area and look for potential threats. I’m going to check out the campsite over there and see if there’s anything of value.”
Adi gave him a curt nod and dismounted Shadowmere before dismissing the Steed. She walked the perimeter - careful to stay out of sight of Frost Trolls nearby - and went back to Mercer once she determined it was safe and there were no threats or traps. “You saw her?”
“No,” Adi shook her head. “You?”
“No, but I found her horse,” he said, sneering at the mutilated steed. “Don’t worry. I’ve taken care of it… she won’t be using it to escape. Let’s get moving. I want to catch her inside while she’s distracted. Take the lead.”
“Understood.” Adi knew better than to argue, despite the underlying suspicion she felt. It seemed like Mercer had something up his sleeve he was unaware about… something to do with her.
“Just make sure you keep your eyes open. Karliah is as sharp as a blade.” Mercer commanded. The last thing I need is you blundering into a trap and warning her that we’re here.”
“You chose me for this mission for a reason,” Adi recalled. “Are you really going to start doubting me now?”
“I supposed not,” he grumbled. They reached the gate to the ruins; it clearly locked shut. Adi gestured at it to Mercer, who began to study it closely.
“They say these ancient Nordic burial mounds are sometimes impenetrable.” He explained, slipping something out of a pocket, keeping Adi from seeing what it was. “This one doesn’t look too difficult. Quite simple, really. I don’t know what the fuss is about these locks. All it takes is a bit of know-how and a lot of skill.”
He fumbled with the door for a few seconds, shielding the view with his body. Adi craned her neck to try and see the item, only managing to get a glimpse of a light blue glow before he straightened up and slipped it back into his pocket. “That should do it. After you.”
Adi led them through the crypt, sneaking through so quietly the draugr’s were largely undisturbed. Mercer would pipe up every so often to complain or to order Adi around and tell her what to do. It wasn’t until a room with bone chimes that they had finally had to fight a few draugr.
Mercer pointed out the chimes and promptly told Adi not to blunder into them. She rolled her eyes but weaved through them expertly without touching a single chime. Mercer, on the other hand, was less graceful and managed to hit most of them. Adi readied her silver blade and waited as the draugr smashed through their coffins and attacked her and Mercer. They cut them down in little time, Adi using fire destruction spells on the bones to make sure they were dead.
The rest of the journey through the crypt was filled with draugr that were already awake. If Mercer weren’t with her, Adi would be able to get passed them undetected with ease. Unfortunately, the Guild Master was ready to attack at any given moment and would charge at them. This caused the assassin to be on guard even more than she usually was, having her weapon and magic ready at any given moment.
Before entering what seemed to be the final room of draugr’s, Adi stopped Mercer from rushing ahead. She looked at the area and found all their foes up on a platform, away from a door that led into another tunnel. “We need to sneak past to avoid the draugr. Follow my lead, and stay quiet.”
Despite the fact that Mercer was in charge, Adi gave the order and looked at him as if to say, ‘don’t argue with me.’ The Breton merely nodded, jaw tensed from being told to do something by someone inferior to his position. Adi expected to be lectured, but instead, he gestured for her to move ahead.
Sticking to the walls hidden from the draugr’s view, Adi took careful steps to avoid tipping off her and Mercer’s presence. When they were in a new tunnel and out of sight of the draugr, Adi and Mercer both straightened up and walked to the ever-familiar Nordic puzzle door. “Shoot.”
"Ah, it's one of the infamous Nordic puzzle doors. How quaint.” Mercer snorted, glancing at Adi with annoyance. “Without the matching claw, they're normally impossible to open. And since I'm certain Karliah already did away with it, we're on our own.”
Adi resisted an eyeroll. Why did he feel the need to state the obvious?
“Fortunately, these doors have a weakness if you know how to exploit it. Quite simple, really. Karliah's close. I'm certain of it. Now let's get moving."
Just like the entrance, Mercer bent down and fiddled with the door. The glow from the item was more prominent in the dimmer lighting, and Adi managed to make out what seemed to be a key. How Mercer managed to get it to open the puzzle door was a mystery, but the Dragonborn thought against saying anything. Instead, she leads them into the next room.
Before Adi spotted the Dunmer, she felt a sharp pain in her arm followed by dizziness. Unable to keep herself upright, the assassin fell to her side. She fought the poison to stay awake and watched the scene unfold as Karliah came out of her hiding spot and confronted Mercer.
#tes#skyrim#tes: skyrim#brynjolf x oc#brynjolf#fanfiction#the thieves guild#brynjolf fanfiction#riften#the thieves guild main quest#the dark brotherhood#mercer frey#karliah#maven black briar
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Don’t think about it...
...Because when you do, the Thieves’ Guild/Nightingale questline just becomes more and more disturbing, and you might just end up feeling sympathy for the guy you have no choice but to kill.
Basically, I am trying to create an abbreviated timeline of Skyrim’s characters’ history just in case I get off my butt and write fanfic, and I ran into this:
Mercer Frey is at most, around 50 years old in 4E 201. I guess this because he lives in the sewers (illnesses flow down with the dung and trash+no sunlight is aging and bad for the health, so if he was older he would probably be sick) and crouches (ages the joints) all his life, yet was spry enough to climb a giant statue and pry jewels that had been in the rock for millennia loose. If he was in his 60s with his lifestyle he likely couldn’t have done that, Skeleton Key or no Skeleton Key (also, not a single gray hair that I could see, so...).
Subtracting 25 years after Gallus’ death, gives us around 25 years old. subtracting at least 3 years of Karliah being a regular Nightingale not on the lamb, because she seems pretty comfortable with the role and the Skyrim locations (and was also the lover of an adult, we get perilously close to underage the further back we push this, and she’d been his “little nightingale” for so long she was obsessed with killing Mercer 25 years later), he would be around 22 years old when she was inducted.
And he was a senior Nightingale, I would guess at least 5 years her senior as a Nightingale.
So when Gallus and Karliah’s mother sold his soul to Nocturnal, he would have been around 17 years old at the oldest. And given how small a margin I’ve given these years, I would guess the more likely age for Mercer’s selling of soul would have been 15 years old.
The thing is, he and Karliah would have been about the same age (as an elf, she looks younger, heck, her grandmother, Barenziah, was pretty spry and popping out her mother at the age of 379, and if Karliah is only as young as Mercer, then Karliah’s mother popped Karliah out when she was around 170+ years old) and as a Breton, he probably matures slower than a regular mannish race without half-elven ancestry (a half-elven Emperor, Cassynder, is remarked upon to have aged “like a Breton” suggesting slower maturity, as he died of ill health and so certainly did not have the lifespan of a Breton).
And on top of it all, the way Karliah’s life plays out in Gallus’ book (Nightingales Vol.2), it seems like her lover and her mother waited until she was an adult before inducting her to give her a better choice, unlike Mercer (who was likely inducted because Karliah’s grandfather died, or because Lorthus, who may or may not have been Karliah’s father, died in Whiterun’s dungeons, and because it needs to be a Trinity and they didn’t think Karliah would have been ready), who was put in the position of selling his soul as a child while pressured by authority figures that it was a great honor.
Not only that, but Frey is not a Breton name. In fact, as a surname, it seems very Nordic, and given that there is no trace of Mercer’s background or parentage and that the highest population of Bretons and Reachmen lives under the thumb of Nords as serfs (and children take the race of the mother) in the Reach and that he picks a second-in-command with a Reach accent...
Yeah, so it seems more like Mercer’s conception may or may not have been consensual. That he somehow ended up in Gallus’ path when he was a very young child (at best, his mother died when he was very young and his father either also died or there was no relationship so he didn’t recognize Mercer, or Gallus kidnapped him), and Mercer grows into his midteens in the guild when the guildmaster and a legendary figure (Nightingale, Karliah’s mother) either convinces him to sell his soul to Nocturnal, or tricks him like Karliah tricked the Dragonborn and Brynjolf.
And then he grows into adulthood and realizes what they’ve done to him (eternal slavery even beyond death, even worse than the Reachmen in the Reach).
Is it really any wonder he “desecrates” Nocturnal’s shrine to live large while he can? Why he kills Gallus when Gallus starts trying to be all moral about it? (Oh, and given the sticky timeline, if Karliah is any younger than Mercer and not the same age or older, her and Gallus’ relationship likely started when she was barely legal after he watched her from her mid-teenage years as her guildmaster and superior; isn’t Gallus a swell, moral guy? Totally a honorable thief!) because he now hates Gallus? Is it any wonder that Karliah is framed when Mercer’s entire life and death has revolved around her and her family/lover?
Notice that for 25 years, he was content taking care of the Thieves’ Guild and only skimming the top of the (dwindling) profits and practically did everything to keep it running (again, I do not believe the Guild fell on hard times because of Mercer, given that their luck is sooo bad that they randomly recruit the Last Dragonborn when it is at its worse. Given how little the other leaders seems to do, it seems more self-inflicted, also given that the Last Dragonborn can fix it all up by doing a bunch of regular quests any thief in the guild, but most especially senior members like Brynjolf, Vex and Delvin, could have done).
Also I would like to point out that Karliah lies or is paranoid when she says that she’s been hunted for 25 years by Mercer’s contacts, given that there is only evidence of him having 3 contacts who would do such a thing, and the Black-Briars knew nothing, the Dark Brotherhood certainly wasn’t wasting their dwindling resources (they were hunted to near extinction 13 years ago and were losing Sanctuaries even before that) on her and the Thieves’ Guild were all surprised she still existed.
Given that Karliah constantly lies about things like this (even Gallus, in his book, contradicts her attributing everything to him, by pointing out that her mother and Mercer were there in the same capacity), she’s likely lying. But then again, Gallus had the gall to lie to my face as a ghost (stating he wasn’t in the Sepulcher when the sealing happened and then stating with certainty what happened during the sealing, even though only Daedric Princes would know enough to make an accurate guess, and even then might be wrong unless they’re Nocturnal herself), so maybe he lied in his book?
But anyway, back to Mercer. So for 25 years he’s been content being guildmaster.
And it is only when Karliah shows up again and escapes his attempt at killing her that he empties the vault and leaves (and again, Karliah was trying to destroy the guild in a more permanent way by angering Maven Black-Briar. At least you can refill an empty vault, you cannot refill the ranks of killed master thieves so easily. Then, when the Dragonborn gives Karliah the option of an in with the guild, she just skates right on in and no one points this out. Either that or her plan was so stupid, she planned, as the known killer of the previous guildmaster, to walk into the guild with the current guildmaster paralyzed over her shoulder waving her boyfriend’s supposed diary in an unreadable language and claim innocence? Also, a thief’s diary that only mentions what she needs us to know but not his great love for his “little nightingale”? Or even just “we danced the horizontal tango yesterday, her mother is angry because she thinks I’m too old for her, fortunately she was killed by mercenaries finding our super secret hideout that only I and Mercer knew about~Time to turn little Karliah into my little nightingale~”).
Like imagine if Karliah moved on from her (creepy) boyfriend and made a life for herself outside Skyrim? The only thing the guild to complain about when it comes to Mercer would be his admin fees (skimming) because no one else have done the accounting for 25 years (looking at you, Bryn and Del, oh and notice how long it took for Gallus to notice? He was guildmaster but did he foist the admin work on Mercer too? On top of selling Mercer’s soul?) and doesn’t want to step up in any capacity to do any of his work (See Guildmaster Dragonborn despite there being three senior leaders left in the Thieves Guild; at the least Companions killed off Kodlak [who dreamed about you] and Skjor and caused a schism on the lycanthropy topic between Aela and the twins before you became the Harbinger who is just a mediator and advisor, and you just arbitrarily becomes the Listener because “Sweet Mother” is a fucking troll who played deadbeat to her “children” for 13 years, and I cannot really justify the Archmage thing, but I can do it much better than the Guildmaster thing).
And there wouldn’t have been any selling of souls to a demonic goddess Karliah calls a “scolding mother” who is more deadbeat than the Night Mother and who, like the Night Mother, keeps you in servitude beyond your death.
But like I said, don’t think about it.
Oh and I’m not the only one who is kind of put off by Karliah’s “specialness” what with being the secret granddaughter of THE Nightingale and Queen Barenziah, and the only Dunmer I can think of without ash-red eyes (even Vivec’s Dunmer half had a red eye, and he was considered as powerful as a god, just to show how all-encompassing Azura’s curse was) and instead have violet eyes, and how everyone praises how smart and skilled she is while everything she does is stupid and failing?
Oh right. I need to stop thinking about this quest-line and the fact that my only choice was killing the child victim of a demonic cult after he grew up and tried to escape for the crime of taking some going-away-money I could replace in five minutes, just to avenge some dude who sells children’s soul into slavery after his girlfriend tricks me into selling mine and... Okay, not thinking about it!
#skyrim#mercer frey#thieves' guild#nightingales#gallus desidenius#barenziah#karliah the liar#nocturnal#rant#gallus is just so bad when you think about the timeline#like he had time to introduce karliah to enthir and they had time to become friends#to the point that enthir doesn't believe she killed his best friend even though that's what everyone's saying#saying that mercer's soul was sold when he was 15 years old is being generous#because the more I look at the timeline#anything between 12-17 seems possible#and that 12 limit only exists because I hope Nocturnal would refuse anyone younger#sympathy for the assigned devil of the narrative#like gallus totally had it coming#okay need to stop thinking about this questline
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DRAGONBORN 30 DAY CHALLENGE
Day 7 - Relationships
Sexual orientation:
Straight
Did your character marry? If so, who is their spouse?:
Eventually she does, but not until she’s at least 54. Brynjolf, after years of the two just being lovers, finally gets too old to crouch around the sewers and takes a knee for her, much to her playful picking. He’d be about 60, I’d guess.
“You know lass, Ragnar is doing so well with the guild, I suppose I could step back a bit if you’d fancy some company in my golden years…” Brynjolf said, trailing off a bit all while a playful smile dared to tug at the corners of his mouth.
“Oh aye? Took you long enough, you old codger. Finally feeling a day over 25, are you?” Saoirse cooed back, keeping to brushing out a matted bit of fur on the old family dog. She smiled, too, but did well to have her back to him so he wouldn’t see the joy that twinkled in her eyes.
Across the way, leaning against the sturdy fence post now, the now-greying red-head chuckled heartily. Gods, how he loved her.
“To say the least, Saoirse. I might dare say I feel…26 now.” He chirped.
“You’ve gotten used to a belly full of mead and crawling into a warm bed with me at night, is all this is~” Saoirse said, finally standing to turn to him, leaving the old mutt to bask in the warm sun near the cow pen.
“You have done well to seduce an old man, lass. So what do you say, hm? Would you marry an old crook?” His eyes stayed pointed at hers, staring deeply into the dark blue seas that had always haunted him since he first met her as a younger, more naive man.
“Why…I don’t know Bryn, seems rather sudden. And the farm…” She playfully cooed, opting to dusting off her shirt and glancing around the property.
His brows furrowed in concern.
“Now lass, I just asked a very serious question. A man deserves an answer and-” He started to whine, the green of his eyes reflecting what was left of the one fiery red in his hair.
“-Oh you old codger!~ Stop your whining, of course I’ll marry you.”
How well do they get along with their spouse?:
It evolves as they do, so to speak but they always have a bit of a playful rivalry/cheeky sort of energy about them, regardless of the years.
Upon being acquainted, when Saoirse is 20 and he’s likely 26, at least, the two have a whirlwind of a “relationship” while she runs around with the guild, initially. Constant cheekiness, not being able to keep their hands off the other for too long- they’re quite the matching set, two peas in a grass pod, so to speak. Their youthfulness has a heavy hand in it all and that also goes for the naivety of it all. They’re both far too smart for their own good and both end up falling far too hard, far too fast and in gets out of hand until they both get scared and start to shut off, in a sense? He starts stealing from her and she eventually finds out and runs off with his things and a bunch of the guilds’ job trinkets/money as a result. Young love, am I right?
When she comes back around after finally deciding to tie up loose ends and go do the dragonborn stuff, she decides to go to Riften and try to work off her debt. Immediately, the two have their guards up, bickering and arguing often to the point that Delvin has to step in to get them to stop. It’s rocky at the beginning, the two having to learn to open up again and have to discover each other again through various jobs Delvin insists they go on together (he ships it-). They break down eventually after bickering to the point that they kiss and then go get really drunk and open up to one another. After that, and around the time the Goldenglow Estate job lines up is when Bryn starts to see her differently. She’s matured and is the freakin’ dragonborn, that’s cool and he starts to grow an unprecedented respect for her. While the guild is in shambles and she’s probably going to almost die fighting Alduin eventually, they are comforting figures for each other. They’re still cheeky and playful, but more maturely now.
When they’re old gits, they’re the ultimate old couple goals? Like it goes from him sneaking into her room in the night and romancing her and checking in on their son for years, to him getting spoiled and sleeping in all day and whining about it being cold. Real cute, real spicy.
Do they have any kids?:
While Saoirse has 2 children, the two are only half-siblings but the eldest, Ragnar is Brynjolf’s. Once she returns to the companions after saving the world and repaying the guild (by saving it, they’re welcome), she finishes where she left off at in the Companions plot, taking out the Silver-hand and curing Kodlak and etc, eventually becoming Harbinger and all doing so while unknowingly pregnant. Everyone assumes it’s Farkas’ considering that her and Farkas as Shield Bros with Benefits™ but Ragnar comes out with red hair (like his father) and blue eyes like Saoirse. Farkas sort of steps up and helps her raise him (And the two accidentally have a son together, whoops) but they aren’t ever more than platonic with some benefits? He respects her for saving himself and his brother and with the two being shield-siblings, he just steps up to help out being a “Father” figure to both kids, despite only being the youngest’s actual father.
If so, how do they feel about their kids?:
Brynjolf, being fond of children anyways, was overwhelmed but happy? I’d imagine he low key knew it might happen before he sent her back to Whiterun, but didn’t invest much in the thought until she showed up a few months later with a red headed baby that had his nose. He loves the little lad and always looks forward to Saoirse bringing him to Riften while she “shops” and asks her “old friend” if he minds watching Ragnar for a bit. Ragnar takes an immediate interest in Bryn, of course and the two are rather close despite the distance. Ragnar even runs off once he’s 17 or so on his own adventure to “find himself” and goes and looks for work in Riften on his mothers’ advice and lands himself as his fathers’ second in command in the guild.
Best friend:
Ria, for sure, but Athis and Farkas are up there, too. When she’s away from Whiterun, however, she leans more towards Iona and Niruin. Ria is her bestie, though.
Follower (or followers):
Iona, the Honeyside housecarl. She refuses to stay in the sewers once she goes back to Riften and takes time out of her week to become Thane just so she can by Honeyside. Iona comes with it, of course and the two become bros. Iona is rather protective of Saoirse and if any thieves guild members come to honeyside, she watches them like a hawk and keeps a really close eye on Brynjolf, in particular- almost amusingly so.
Role models:
She doesn’t have one? As she journey’s, she decides that she wants to be the type of person her younger self could look up to and tries to be her own role model. She thinks it best to better yourself for yourself rather than to be like someone else. Now granted, she’s no hero but she takes her morally light gray, chaotic neutral energy and makes herself the best Saoirse she can be.
Who else would you say your character gets along with? Or doesn’t?:
She’s not fond of the Black-Briars, Maven in particular. She knows a powerful woman when she sees one and the two often dance around with words whenever they have to talk.
She really likes the Khajiit Caravans, too. All of them, Khajiits in general, to be honest. She grew up with a caravan and really appreciates the race as a whole. She might even offer to go sale their wares in cities if she has the time and they aren’t camped too far out.
WOOt let me stop before I ramble
anywAYS heres my child and her cheeky eventual husband. Things I learned include: making old people look old is hard and hair graying is hard to color but also LOOK AT THAT BACKGROUND!!! I drew that, I’m so proud ; u ;
#saoirse : oc#skyrim oc#tes oc#brynjolf#thieves guild#farkas#character creation#dragonborn challenge#female dragonborn#digital art
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💕 + Skyrim, I already know who, But,, Explain Why 👀
H-How do you know who I’ll pick?? Maybe it’s Jarl Balgruuf or Maven Black-Briar or, um, [stares at hand] Brim Loft… er…
Okay, fine. Old bear king 💕
Where do I even begin. I mean is it fair to say he’s the most developed, complex character in the game? I’ll start off by saying that character type is simply a favorite of mine: the brooding king or queen who wants to do right by their people but doesn’t always succeed. Thorin Oakenshield is another example, so is Evfra de Tershaav. Aria T’Loak is all that minus the brooding, but that’s a huge part of why I love her, too.
There is something very attractive about that personality type. They project strength and confidence, but you know deep down they are riddled with doubt. Rage often boils just beneath the surface of all their decision-making, compromising their intentions. They are often good people who have been dealt a hard blow in life. I mean, think about Ulfric. He was a young man who had dedicated himself to scholarship and meditation, to learning the ways of the Voice. Yet his passion and his pride got the better of him, and he threw all of that away to take up arms. He was with the Greybeards for ten years.
A king who is more than a brute and a despot – in his heart, he’s a scholar, and there’s something very Romantic (big R) about that. You just know his personal library is huge; he eats up the old tales and ballads extolling the virtues of his people. He constantly struggles to live up to that virtue, to be the man, the king, the general he believes his people need him to be.
He was captured and tortured. Viciously. His pride in himself as a man and as a Nord was shattered, and I think it’s still an issue for him today. That fear and humiliation turned to rage, and he turned his heart from scholarship and noblisse oblige to war and pride and conquest. He knew in his heart that killing Torygg was the right thing to do; he believed it utterly. He didn’t have to use the Voice. But he did.
He hates war. He doesn’t want to be a soldier. He doesn’t want to kill men and women he once fought alongside. But if he doesn’t do it, he fails not only his people, but also himself. And I think the latter hurts him even more than the former.
There is no love in his life. His parents are both dead. He has no siblings, no family. He is not married, has no lover, and no children. After he wins the war, I have always imagined that his heart will eventually succumb to bitterness. He will not necessarily be a great king. He’s a wounded animal, and has been for years. I think that’s part of why I wanted to write him a romance. I wanted to show what would happen if Ulfric Stormcloak fell in love. How would it alter his way of thinking, how would it make him reexamine his decisions? How would it temper his rage and his bitterness?
Anyway, that’s the long and short of it, I guess :)
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