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justheretop0st · 2 years

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Just for the Night

His voiced echoed throughout the sanctuary. How? She would never know. But she hurried for him. The blood on the floor wasn’t not a good sign. She prayed to Sithis that he would be ok. Alive by the time she got there.

She didn’t blame him for hiding in the furthest reach of the sanctuary. He didn’t know who Astrid would send. It explained why the guardians attacked her. She was the listener, but Cicero had likely told them to kill on sight. Possibly without a second thought that she would be sent.

She wasn’t there when he snapped. But she heard all she needed. How dare Astrid speak of the Night Mother in such a way? Especially around Cicero? She did not blame him for trying to hurt Astrid. She could only be thankful she was sent.

It took time, and Cicero’s teasing is what kept hope alive that he would be ok. At least he had not lost consciousness.

The second chain she pulled lead down a hallway. No ghost or trap. So she ran. Her steps echoing on the stone floor.

“And now we come to the end of our play. The grande finale!” Relief rushed over her as she pushed the door open. He was still alive. But seeing how he laid on the floor made it disappear.

His coughing was corse and wet, blood spewing from his mouth to the ground. He was shivering and wrapped up into himself. She rushed to him.

“You caught me! I surrender! Ha ha ha ha.” He was joking, he’d knew she wouldn’t kill him. Instead, she took him into her arms. One just around his shoulders and the other around his waist. He was pulled into her lap so she could better see his wounds.

His jester hat had slipped off in the process, leading him completely visible. His eyes traced her face. The concern and thought in her eyes amusing to him. Only because he couldn’t remember the last time eyes had shown any kind of love for him. Even as a friend. But as a lover?

He reached a hand up, and though it was bloody, he still cupped her cheek. “Dear listener, thank you for caring about poor Cicero.”

His voice was just as wet and raspy as his cough. Blood dribbling down his chin and to his shirt, but he cared not. He only wanted to stare into her eyes. “Oh Cicero, you don’t have to thank me. But please, hold still. This might hurt.”

Her hand glowed a brilliant gold and shimmered like a million gems falling onto each other. For a brief moment, he felt warm. A rush of pure energy that made him want to leap up and kiss her. But a second later, he felt the wound begin to close. He writhed in pain but her hand that held him steady, began stroking his hair.

He then remember he needed to be still. If not to be healed quicker, but to make this easier for his dear Listener. She had plenty to do for their dear Mother. But she had come to heal him. He didn’t realize his eyes were closed, but he opened them. His eyes met hers and slowly but surely, he was regaining his health.

Her fingers still massaged his scalp. It helped him ignore the ache from his wound. His eyes stayed on her as she focused on her healing spell.

Once the chiming of her spell stopped, he knew he would be ok. But why wouldn’t he be? He trusted his dear Listener with his heart. He was finally able to sit up, but once he did, she had collapsed onto the floor. She hadn’t hit hard but he still clambered over her.

“Listener? Listener are you okay?” He hadn’t meant to, but the blood that was still in his mouth had dripped onto her. Granted, she had a bloody handprint across her face.

“Yes. I’m sorry Cicero. Just takes a lot out of me to heal for so long. I didn’t want to risk-“

“Oh Listener you never have to apologize to Cicero.” He had hushed her. His finger over her lips as he laid next to her. He pulled her into his arms and placed a bloodied kiss to her nose. “I am always in your debt dear Listener.”

She smiled and rested herself into his hold. She never considered him in her debt. But always as her love. She would protect him with her life and she knew that he would do the same. If not because she was the Listener, but because she was his love.

Astrid would have to wait. She opted to rest with Cicero. Just for the night.

#skyrim #skyrim x dragonborn #skyrim x oc #skyrim x reader #cicero #Cicero keeper #keeper #cicero x listener #Cicero x dragonborn #Cicero x reader #Cicero x fem!reader #Astrid #dark brotherhood #cure for madness #dawnstar sanctuary #dark brotherhood quest

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downtherabbithole-tumbleedition · 4 months

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Mahfaeraak (Alduin x Dragonborn)

Part 1

Aurelia stepped into the dark, endless plainlands of Sovngarde alone.

Seventeen years old, with everything to give and nothing to lose, a sword in her hands and her heart in her throat. Fear wasn’t something she felt often, and she worried the World Eater would smell it on her.

The Blades had a growing army and still they sent her alone, with nothing more than the naive hopes that an unconfirmed prophecy would prove true against all the odds. Aurelia held that stupid, insignificant little prophecy in her, begging it to be true.

The souls of previous Dragonborns came to her aid but Alduin targeted her, as if the others were nothing more than fruits and bread rolls while Aurelia was a juicy, tender steak. The one thing that would quench his hunger.

She tried with great effort to block out the memories of Sovngarde — to push those terrible events to the back of her mind, locking them away so they might never be remembered again — but she still vividly recalled how easily Alduin swept through the Dragonborns. How effortlessly he isolated her. How close his teeth were to her throat. He’d laughed in her face, mocking her in his dragon tongue.

But his arrogance had been his downfall.

The final blow hadn’t been noble or brave, not the kind that was painted in chapels or mimicked in statues. There was no piercing arrow or swinging sword as Aurelia held her head up high — no. With the slip of her hand, her dagger was plunged into the World Eater’s heart and, with a roar of pain, he exploded into nothingness.

Aurelia returned home a hero, Alduin’s destroyer at seventeen years old. And yet, she still was nothing but a pawn to be shoved around and used as those around her pleased. Perhaps she killed Alduin, but snakes still slithered, wanting nothing more than to suck the life out of her.

Just how many people had promised you love and family and home only to stab a knife into your back?

The emperor.

Astrid.

Mercer.

Delphine.

‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me’... But three times? Was that just pure stupidity on Aurelia’s part?

That was why she traveled alone, that was why she rode her life out in solitude. That was why she didn’t stick her neck out for people, especially not extremely attractive dark haired, naked men.

Aurelia was on her trek back to Whiterun, needing an actual bed rather than a pack on the hard ground of a cave. It had been months since she let her guard down in a place where she knew she was safe, and her body was finally growing weary from the minimal sleep and meals, demanding she let herself rest.

That was when her path was blocked by a pack of bandits, demanding this insanely tall and stark naked man give them a hundred septims. And they called her delusional.

“Pay the toll, or its Sovngarde for you, pretty boy,” one of the bandits said, a scantily clad Nord woman. How they survived the cold in such attire was beyond you.

The man said nothing, perhaps he was a mute.

“Gods, this is inconvenient,” Aurelia mumbled, loud enough to be heard.

The male bandit's lazy gaze snapped to her, posture straightening as she approached. He had an ugly sneer on his face but his eyes roamed down her body like a slug and she was happy for her armour. Perhaps the ebony was not quite as intimidating as her Daedric armour, but it did a well enough job to protect her from pointy blades and lingering eyes.

“What did you say, bitch?”

Auerlia sighed tiredly; she just wanted to sleep.

One of the bandits started spouting off some nonsense about gutting her like a fish, but she’d already reached into her boot, pulling out one of her daggers and effortlessly throwing it into his throat. The woman beside him screeched in shock, like a choking bird.

“Can I go through now?”

“You won’t leave here alive!” The woman yelled, raising her steel sword high above her head. If Aurelia was honest, the bandit didn’t even look like she could properly wield a two-handed.

She groaned in the back of her throat as the bandit charged towards her, yellow teeth sneering. With a practice ease, Aurelia had an armoured hand gripped around the point of the sword, stopping the bandit in her tracks. In the blink of an eye, she gave one strong tug, ripping the blade from the woman’s hands and causing her to plummet to the ground.

With the same blade, the bandit’s head was ripped from her neck, tumbling to the ground.

She threw the bloodied sword to the ground, moving forward only when she was convinced there were no other bandits lingering. Odd, how this man was built like an ancient oak tree and yet wasn’t capable of taking care of two bandits.

“For the future, I’d recommend clothing yourself,” she said, a touch of humour in her voice.

Aurelia received no response, he just stared with his blood red eyes. Curious — he couldn’t be a vampire like Serana, not if he was in the sun with no protection. Now that she looked at him properly, well, she could see just how out of place he was. Porcelain white skin, long black hair, insane height, and, of course, eyes as red as blood.

Over the years, Auerlia liked to think she’d gotten quite good at reading people — their intentions, their auras. This man somehow made every alarm bell ring with a relentless force, warning her that he was nothing but danger.

Aurelia did not like anything about this man, nor the energy that radiated off of him. Without another word, she began to walk away.

His large hand gripped around her wrist like a vice, tight enough to make her want to whine in pain. She whipped her head around, alarmed as she saw his glowing red eyes.

One word circled inside her brain and, as much as she wanted to deny it, something inside of her told her it was true.

“Alduin.”

#alduin #skyrim #yandere skyrim #female mc #dragborn x Alduin #soulmates #mating rituals

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ironwoman359 · 7 months

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A Thief's Gamble - Ch.4

Bedlam and Burglary

Previous: Ch.3 - Honeyed Words, Bitter Deeds ||Next: Ch.5 - The Renegade from Cyrodiil.

Fic Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Chapter Summary: While Brynjolf attempts to discover who is behind the sale of Goldenglow Estate, Maven Black-Briar pays a visit to the Guild.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence.

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Word Count: 2,056

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

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Despite their dwindling numbers, the Guild still had what Brynjolf considered to be a very capable group of core operatives…which made the fact that not a single person in the entire ratway was able to identify the mysterious symbol all the more frustrating. Even Delvin, who had worked with just about everybody who was anybody, didn’t have a clue.

The only person more frustrated than he was by the lack of leads was Mercer.

“Between everyone here we’ve run jobs across all of Tamriel!” he’d snarled. “Somebody has to know something! I want everyone working on this, no exceptions!”

Brynjolf couldn’t help but agree.

He drafted letters to everyone he could think of who might have the slightest clue how to solve the mystery, and had Vipir and Cynric make up copies of the symbol to send along with them. He asked Thrynn and Niruin to spread the word to any ties they still had with their old crews, and Rune left for the College of Winterhold to talk to an expert on obscure symbols and languages that he’d had contact with in the past. Tonilia and Vekel promised to speak with their customers and contacts as well, and Dirge even took a copy to pass along to Maul on the off chance that he’d run across something in his dealings with the Black-Briars.

And yet, despite everyone’s efforts across days of work, they were no closer to identifying the strange little symbol. Brynjolf was getting to the point where just looking at the damn thing made him grit his teeth, to say nothing of how Mercer was handling it. The Guildmaster had taken to pacing back and forth behind his desk and glaring daggers at anyone who disturbed him.

“I don’t like this, Brynjolf,” he kept saying. “Someone out there is playing us for fools, and I don’t like it one bit.”

As usual, Brynjolf did his best to keep everyone in good spirits, but even his patience had its limits.

“Please tell me you’ve heard something,” he said to Delvin as he walked into the Ragged Flagon, but the old man shook his head.

“Sorry Bryn. I have heard something, but it ain’t something good.”

“The Brotherhood hasn’t ever seen it either,” Brynjolf guessed, and Delvin nodded.

“Astrid said that even little Babette didn’t have a clue, and she’s been around for centuries.”

“Dammit,” Brynjolf muttered, falling into a seat. “Whoever’s behind this is crafty, I’ll give them that.”

“We may have to face it, Brynjolf,” said Delvin. “Nobody knows what that symbol means.”

“Don’t be so quick to give up, old friend,” Brynjolf said. “There’s still a lot of correspondence that has yet to be answered. Maybe nobody in Skyrim has heard of it, but our adversary could be from elsewhere in Tamriel. That reminds me, did you send a letter to your–”

“Look sharp,” Delvin interrupted, lowering his voice. “Look who just came in.”

Brynjolf looked up, and immediately straightened in his chair.

Maven Black-Briar herself was strolling down the walkway around the cistern, Maul trailing behind her like a guard dog. She breezed past Dirge without so much as a nod and stepped up to the bar.

“Good evening, milady,” Vekel said, nodding respectfully. Maven was just about the only person who he didn’t treat with his usual snark. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll just have a cup of wine tonight,” she said. “I have business to discuss with Brynjolf.”

She took her drink and sat at Brynjolf’s table, and he lifted his tankard to her.

“Maven. To what do I owe to pleasure this fine evening?”

“Thanks to the efforts of the operative you sent my way, I’m in prime position to take over Honningbrew Meadery in Whiterun,” she said. “I have to say, I was skeptical about her at first, but she definitely gets results.”

“She’s one of the best we have.”

Brynjolf had said it without thinking, as yet another part of his usual game of flattery and assurance that he played with Maven, but as he considered the words, he realized that there was an element to truth of them. The lass's somewhat odd behavior aside, she’d had nothing but success since starting with the Guild. The strain of bad luck that they’d all been experiencing seemed not to affect her, and now she’d even managed to impress Maven.

“Perhaps,” Maven said. “At any rate, I wanted to speak with you and Mercer about Honningbrew.”

“Mercer is out meeting a contact,” Brynjolf said apologetically. “But I’ll gladly relay any message you have for him.”

Maven nodded.

“I don’t anticipate any issues in actually acquiring the meadery itself; Mallus has already been placed in charge by the local guard and sale of the property to me is a trivial matter. What concerns me is ensuring the same level of control over the production in Whiterun as I maintain here”

“Is Mallus’s presence at the meadery not enough for that?” Brynjolf asked, and Maven scoffed.

“Mallus is a capable worker and he knows his success is dependent on meeting my standards…for now. But how long until the distance between us gives him ideas about independence?”

“So you want to employ the Guild to keep tabs on the meadery the way we do on Goldenglow.”

“Precisely,” Maven said. “I’m not anticipating a need for high levels of interference in these early days–”

“But you want to be prepared,” Brynjolf finished for her, and a slow smile spread across her face.

“Indeed. I trust you’ll be able to handle that?”

“Well…” Brynjolf said carefully. “Our reputation in Whiterun isn’t what it used to be. It’ll be more difficult to operate there with the same impunity we enjoy here in Riften.”

“I fail to see how that’s my problem. I’ll have my hands full enough establishing my own business presence in the hold without covering for you at the same time.”

“I did say difficult, not impossible,” Brynjolf pointed out. “We’ll make it happen.”

Maven smirked.

“You know, a week ago I may have assumed you to be merely grandstanding. But your Ariene assures me that what she found at Honningbrew will help restore your Guild’s strength, and since you claim she’s your best, I trust that she’s correct.”

Maven finished off her wine and got to her feet, and Brynjolf stood as well.

“For now, a monthly report from one of your operatives to confirm that what Mallus is telling me is true should be sufficient for management of Black Briar Meadery West,” she said. “I’ll alert you if any further action is required.”

“Always a pleasure to have you visit us, Maven,” Brynjolf said with a smile, and Maven tutted.

“Yes, I do so love my little excursions to the sewers. Maybe you could steal yourselves a better headquarters sometime. Or at least a servant to clean the place.”

“And lose our roguish, underworld charm?” Brynjolf asked, chuckling. “I think not.”

Maven rolled her eyes and turned without another word, snapping her fingers for Maul to follow her out of the cistern.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Delvin said when she was gone. “I haven’t seen her in that good a mood in quite awhile.”

“Neither have I,” Brynjolf agreed, slumping back in his seat. “Ariene must’ve really impressed her. I wonder what she meant by the lass finding something that would help the Guild?”

“Well,” said a new voice. “I don’t actually know how helpful it will be.”

Brynjolf turned with a start, just in time to see the woman in question entering the Flagon through the secret entrance.

“You just love appearing without warning, don’t you lass?” Brynjolf asked, and Ariene shrugged, a small smile playing about her lips.

“What’s the point of being able to sneak through rooms undetected if I don’t take any opportunities to eavesdrop?”

“Word of advice, lass,” Brynjolf said as she took a seat at the table. “Those skills will serve you well when you’re out there in the world. But there’s no need to use subterfuge within the Guild itself. We have each other’s backs. If we can’t rely on each other, then there’s not much point in being part of a Guild at all, is there?”

Ariene’s smile stayed locked in place, but it lost the playful ease it’d held a moment before.

“I suppose not,” she said.

Brynjolf opened his mouth to speak, but Ariene plowed onwards.

“And speaking of the Guild, I did find something at Honningbrew. The same symbol from Goldenglow was involved. Whoever gave Sabjorn the funds he needed to take his competing mead to market as quickly as he did is the same person who bought the bee farm to cut Maven out of the picture.”

Brynjolf frowned and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. As much as he wanted to press the lass on her response to his advice, he knew when to take a hint.

“That makes this beyond coincidence,” he said instead. “First Aringoth and now Sabjorn. Someone's trying to take us down by driving a wedge between Maven and the Guild.”

“And there’s no way we can stay afloat without her influence?” Ariene asked, and Brynjolf shook his head.

“Believe me, there are days when I wish we didn’t rely on her so heavily. But the fact is, her gold is pretty much the only thing keeping the city guard from storming this place and hauling us all off to Mistveil Keep’s dungeon.”

“Then what can we do?”

“We’re working on how to identify that symbol now,” Brynjolf said. “We’ve reached out to all our contacts, though there hasn’t been much luck yet. Besides that, we can continue working on restoring our reputation in other holds…pulling jobs so that people remember who we are.”

“And it’d probably make sense to start in Whiterun, since Maven wants us to start operating there,” Ariene added. “Delvin!” she called over her shoulder. “Have any clients for a job in Whiterun?”

“Nothing specific,” Delvin said. “Though pulling a bedlam job in the hold could be a step in the right direction. What about you Vex, do you have anything?”

Vex looked up from where she was sitting in the corner, and grinned.

“Do I have any jobs in Whiterun? Sure I do. I have a buyer looking for a specific jeweled flagon that’s been traced to a trader named Ysolda, and House Gray-Mane has been on my list of targets to sweep for months now. Lot of old relics in that manor.”

“Ysolda’s place and House Gray-Mane…alright, I know where both of those are,” Ariene said. “And I know a few other spots that would make good targets for the bedlam job. I should be able to pull off all three jobs in one visit.”

“Be careful lass,” Brynjolf cautioned. “We have some sway over the guard here in Riften thanks to the Black-Briars, but it’s much harder these days to get yourself out of a jam in the other holds. It might be more prudent to spread the jobs out over time, have different operatives go for different jobs. If you get caught pulling off a crime spree, your sentence is likely to be far harsher.”

A quick smile flitted across Ariene’s face.

“Your concern is touching,” she said. Her tone was playful, but there was a hint of sincerity in her gaze as she met Brynjolf’s eyes. “I’ll be careful,” she continued. “But of all the things that I have to worry about in Whiterun? The guard is the least of my problems.”

Brynjolf blinked, and filed that statement away with the rest of the rapidly growing questions he had about his newest Guildmate.

“Well then, as long as you don’t mind going back to Whiterun so soon, it sounds like we have a plan.”

Vekel came up to their table and passed out a round of drinks, and Brynjolf lifted his up in a toast.

“To the Guild!” he declared.

“May we show that bloody curse that we won’t be kept down by anything,” said Delvin.

“And may we all make enough to retire in a palace,” Vex added.

Ariene’s eyes flitted around the room, and she smiled again, wider this time.

“May we all have each other’s backs,” she said, and Brynjolf grinned.

“Aye, lass. I’ll drink to that.”

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Previous: Ch.3 - Honeyed Words, Bitter Deeds || Next: Ch.5 - The Renegade from Cyrodiil.

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sheirukitriesfandom · 1 year

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Skyrim Asks

@purrpletartan tagged me a while ago but I was too focused on the next chapter of my fanfic. Sorry, but thanks for the tag regardless😅

For this questionnaire, I decided to focus on my dragonborn, Rethul Balasi.

1. Favourite Tavern

Early on Rethul spends a frightening amount of time at the Bannered Mare, annoying Hulda in the process. He loves Whiterun and many of its inhabitants (Especially Elrindir, Anoriath and Uthgerd), so the Bannered Mare is his primary destination if he needs a room. For drinks and company, it's the Drunken Huntsman.

However, if the Ragged Flagon counts, that's his no. 1 spot overall. Rethul is well connected with the Thieves Guild and he loves stopping by to play cards with some of his friends.

2. Favourite Drink

Rethul is a wine guy through and through. While he normally grumbles about Skyrim wines, he loves San's spiced wine.

3. Travel Companion

He spends a lot of time with Lydia—much to her dismay as they don't get along. On a similar note, he and Rashkan also don't really get along while travelling together. Rethul tends to annoy all his travelling companions and overall prefers to travel alone.

4. Wealthy or not?

Rethul used to be rich but plummeted into poverty when he fled to Skyrim. It's only after his defeat of Alduin that he comes into some wealth.

5. Worships the Aedra or the Daedra?

Rethul worships whoever is most convenient at the moment. He was raised following the reclamations but due to his parents' strictness on the topic developed a slight resentment towards active worship. That being said, he's not above participating in religious rites if invited.

Later, his membership in the Dark Brotherhood technically makes him serve Sithis but Rethul would rather it didn't.

6. Biggest Fear

For a long time, Rethul is terrified of the Dark Brotherhood, who he thinks are after him. When he later joins them, that changes. His greatest fear, all things considered, is a loss of freedom—especially in the metaphysical "Your soul belongs to x for all eternity" way. It's why he's terrified of Sithis and the Night Mother. He didn't get along with Astrid, but he preferred the more "worldly" Brotherhood.

7. Pet Peeves

Bad table manners and noisy eating.

8. Do they like being dragonborn?

NO. Rethul's not a fighter and he'd much rather spend his life gambling and drinking.

9. Favourite faction

Favourite is a difficult choice. Despite being part of/close with the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild, they both are also most likely to murder him/screw him over if he steps out of line. All in all, Rethul really likes the College of Winterhold. They're friendly, helpful idiots nerds who're likely to leave him alone if he fucks up.

10. An object of sentimental value

Rethul's big earring was his journeyman's work. He sells several of his earrings & piercings throughout his story, but that one has to stay at all cost.

11. Hobbies

Rethul comes from a family of jewelmakers and although his part in the family business never went anywhere (except jail), he retained a love for the craft.

Rethul used to be addicted to gambling. He's over it but will occasionally indulge in a game of cards or dice. He also knows many card tricks.

12. Favourite city

Riften because of the food and fantastic business opportunities. It's also far away from Solitude meaning fewer imperial soldiers. Whiterun and Falkreath are runners up.

Tagging: @elavoria @nostalgic-breton-girl @friend-of-giants @the-sunlit-earth @dumpsterhipster and the people where I'm not sure if they have/want to talk about their Skyrim characters (seen you mostly post other TES games; just adapt the questions ^^;) : @katastronoot, @alma-amentet and @chance-lachance , @littlegalerion

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nocturnalswarehouse · 2 years

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Chapter 4 - Silver-Tongues and Skooma

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: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of nudity, mentions of sex

Taglist: @thequeenofthewinter

Word count: 1, 143

A/N: Shadowmere makes her first appearance in this fic! I headcanon the steed as genderfluid because she's a demon horse and therefore fuck gender, but also I may accidentally change the pronouns for her at some point in the fic so I'm saving myself from that. There may also be a light bit of self-projection through Shadowmere... lol. AND! I found time to publish chapter 4! Chapter updates will officially be Wednesday every week :) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

After a visit with the Jarl of Riften, Adi was subject to dealing with the skooma problem herself. The first task was to take care of Sarthis Idren discreetly - something Adi was well versed in - and the second was to take down the operation in Cragslane Cavern. She wasn’t keen on leaving the city but if Brynjolf’s plan worked, Mercer believed she’d left for a Dark Brotherhood contract nearby.

Wanting to be as quiet about the operation as possible, Adi spoke with Brynjolf about the Cavern outside the city, a little ways away from the stables. The thief was curious as to why they seemed to be going there on foot when they could steal a perfectly good horse until Adi pulled a talisman from under her armour and summoned a black steed with red eyes.

Brynjolf was rendered speechless as the horse waited for them to mount, unsure what to think of the whole thing. It was funny to Adi that someone who had something to say all the time found himself tongue-tied because of a bit of magic. Mouth agape, it took Brynjolf a few minutes to be shaken out of the shock before they headed to their destination.

Once he found his voice, Brynjolf asked questions at a rapid-fire pace and Adi answered them all with remarkable patience. She explained that Shadowmere was a gift from Astrid before she betrayed the Dark Brotherhood, and how she created a talisman linked to the horse so she could be summoned when needed.

By the time they got to Cragslane Cavern, the two of them settled into a thicket of trees close by. Careful to stay hidden, Brynjolf listened as Adi told him the plan. “Tell the bouncer you’re here on behalf of Sarthis Idren, and that he’s gotten ill from Bone Break Fever.”

“What if he doesn’t buy it?”

“Leave that to me,” Adi said, toying with the Blade of Woe. “Once you get past the bouncer, go in with the same cover story. I’ll be close by, hiding in the shadows. It’s best if they’re all cut down in a more subtle manner. If we go in and charge, we may end up overpowered.”

As soon as the plan was enacted, Adi stayed in the shadow of the trees behind the bouncer. She had her dagger readied, and watched as Brynjolf began the plan. The bouncer was hostile at first but relented as Brynjolf spun a tall tale about Sarthis’ illness. He let the thief get through, and Adi crept forward once Brynjolf had slipped into the cave. Without a second thought, she reached up, sliced the bouncer's throat, and let the body drop to the ground.

As soon as she entered the cave, she could hear Brynjolf speaking with another bandit. Adi stayed hidden by shadow and crept close enough to see Brynjolf move forward once again. The assassin swooped in before the bandit had any time to react, and thrust the dagger into his stomach. She twisted it three times before pulling it out, barely noticing the blood that splattered onto her.

The rest of the cavern took little time. Brynjolf managed to talk his way out of trouble with the leader, and while he was busy with that, Adi took to cutting down every witness. By the time she reached the Butcher, he was dead in seconds. “Well… that was anticlimactic.”

“Lass, you’re covered in blood.” Brynjolf sighed.

“Oh yeah, that happens more than you’d think.” Adi shrugged. “It’s alright, I brought the Guild armour. I’ll just change into that.”

After looting the place, they headed back to Shadowmere and Adi grabbed the thieves guild armour. As she changed out of her shrouded armour, Brynjolf leaned against a tree and kept watch for any wolves, cave bears, or spriggans. While Adi wasn’t looking, Brynjolf would steal glances at her as she pulled the armour on. Shadowmere nudged Brynjolf, causing the thief to look at her, and the steed gave him an incredulous look and snorted indignantly.

“Your horse is lecturing me.”

“Well, yeah,” Adi smirked at him. Now fully changed, she put the bloodied armour in the saddlebag and readied herself to mount the horse. “I mean… if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked. No need to wait for me to get blood all over my clothes.”

“I-” Brynjolf, for once, couldn’t think of a clever response.

“Are you going to mount Shadowmere, or will you be walking?”

“Right, uh… sorry.”

***

When they got back to the city, Adi stopped in the Bee and the Barb to give Talen-Jei three flawless amethysts that she found in Cragslane Cavern. In passing, she had heard word he needed them to craft a ring for Keerava and she was more than happy to help. He insisted on giving her something back and, ignoring the girl’s protests, gave Adi 200 septims.

After, she made a quick stop in Mistveil to update the Jarl on the Skooma situation. She was thanked, rewarded, and dismissed within a mere few minutes of being there. Once that was over with, Adi headed into the Cistern and to the Ragged Flagon.

Brynjolf was in the middle of telling everyone about their adventure, clearly overexaggerating the details. Adi rolled her eyes at his antics and sat in the chair next to him. “That’s not how it happened.”

“Come on, lass,” Brynjolf smiled at her. “You can’t deny it, you were pretty badass.”

He leaned over and planted a kiss on Adi’s cheek, promptly causing her face to redden. She looked away from Brynjolf, self-conscious with everyone staring at the two. Catching Vex's eye, the Imperial woman raised an eyebrow at her, amusement written all over her face. “It hasn’t even been two days, and you two are already fucking?”

Brynjolf howled in laughter at Vex’s comment, everyone else joining in. Adi, now as red as a snowberry, buried her face in her hands to hide the embarrassment. “As much as Adi would love that, we are not. Sorry to disappoint, Vex.”

“Bryn, don’t flatter yourself,” Adi retorted without missing a beat. She straightened up after a few minutes and sent an annoyed look to Vex. While she didn’t usually mind the banter that went on in the Guild, tonight she was fairly hungry and tired. Not the best combination for Brynjolf’s antics.

As everyone continued with their fit of laughter, Brynjolf looked at Adi and gestured to the bar. At her nod, he immediately got up and got her a bowl of stew and some Black-Briar mead. The assassin immediately perked up and laughed along with everyone as the guild members exchanged stories about their latest jobs.

Once finished, Adi excused herself and headed back to the Cistern. She had a feeling her next assignment from Mercer was going to be near-impossible and wanted as much sleep as possible.

#tes: skyrim #skyrim #brynjolf x oc #brynjolf #the thieves guild #brynjolf fanfiction #riften #fanfiction #the dark brotherhood #the thieves guild main quest #cragslane cavern #the skooma trade #skooma

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blood-darkened-moon · 8 months

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The Elder Scrolls

Ash Zombie | Ash Ghoul | Ash Vampire

TEOS Vanus Galerion

Others Altmer | Dunmer | Daedra | Long-Tailed Tit

Groups/Ships Nerevoryn | Almsivi | Vivec x Molag Bal | Vivec x Almalexia | Nerever x Almalexia

#the elder scrolls #tag list

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skyrim-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

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Reacting to LDB shivering:

Says nothing and just pulls you closer: Farkas, Aela, Miraak, Nahkriin, Ahzidal, Hircine, Namira, Brynjolf, Arnbjorn.

Gets up and makes warm tea: Vilkas, Frea, Vokun, Vahlok, Azura, Meridia.

Makes you into a blanket burrito: Serena, Teldryn, Volsung, Krosis, Zahkriisos, Mephala (or is it web burrito??), Cicero.

Pretends to sleep: Neloth, Lord Harkon, Mercer Frey, Rahgot, Morokei, Dukaan, Hermaeus Mora, Boethiah, Astrid.

Flame spell? 👁👅👁: J’zargo, FLAME ATRONACH BABE, Hevnoraak , Otar the Mad, Sheogorath, Mehrunes Dagon.

#skyrim shitpost #farkas #miraak #companions of jorvaskr #dark brotherhood #skyrim #dragon priests #dragonborn #vilkas #Astrid #Skyrim reacts #ldb x Skyrim #ldb x Miraak #miraak x reader #god there is way too many to fuck with #brynjolf

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years

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Of Threats & First Meetings PT.2

A Brynjolf x F!Dragonborn Story

Warnings: None Word Count: 1,228

Author’s Note: Wow, so it’s been like eight months since I made PT. 1, so I figured I’d do part two now. Enjoy!

“Well lass, welcome to the family. I'm expecting you to make us a lot of coin, so don't disappoint me."

She snorted at his slight congratulations and looked over at him. “Then prepare to be disappointed because that’s all I am.” Ignoring his cocked eyebrow, she asked, “So, tell me about this job I’m supposed to be doing.”

Brynjolf nodded at her, explaining, “Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm over a ways on the lake. They raise the wretched little things for honey. It's owned by some smart-mouth high elf named Aringoth. We need you to teach him a lesson by burning down three of the estate's hives and clearing out the safe in the main house.”

Curiously, she looked at him. “You mean the place that’s near Merryfair farm?” The auburn-haired Nord nodded at her question and she grunted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well…horse shit. I wish I’d’ve known what you guys wanted from there when I was inside a few days ago.”

He blinked in shock. “Wait, you’ve already been inside Goldenglow?”

Her face warmed and she sunk her neck into her shoulders, murmuring, “I saw the beehives as I was walking along the road. Bees make good alchemic potions when mixed the right ingredients.” She waved a hand, brushing off her excuse. “Anyway, is that all we need from there? The safe contents and three hives burned?” He nodded and she turned, marching off towards the ladder.

He shook his head, calling out to her, “Wait lass! You didn’t even get your armor from Tonilia!”

She raised a hand at him and continued to the ladder, quipping, “Don’t need it. I’ll be back in about two hours.”

“What about Vex!”

She spun and added, rather cockily, “Bryn, if I’ve already been inside, why would I go and talk to someone who couldn’t?” Brynjolf’s jaw went slack and she winked before climbing the ladder.

***

Word of their newest member’s success had spread through the guild like fire on a hillside, or like fire on beehives, but Brynjolf had yet to see her return. He waited patiently, eyes scanning over the documents for the next few shipments they were going to receive, when a bag plopped down on the table in front of him with a wet thunk. He looked up from the pages, eyes going wide with momentary shock that quickly gave way to amusement. The Nord placed the pages down, opening up the damp satchel. “Decide to take a bath while you were there, eh lass?”

He drew his gaze to her, watching as her face pinched with irritation, and she griped, “I didn’t have time to cast an invisibility spell once the hives were on fire. Mercs were swarming the area.”

“So, you took a dive into the lake to get away. You know there’s a bridge that leads to the island, right?”

She grunted, dropping into the seat across from him, eyes directed up to the ceiling as she lolled her head back. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. I was aware of the bridge. Again, mercenaries were crawling out of the woodworks. I didn’t have a lot of options.” Sighing, she looked at him. “Regardless, something bigger is going on than what we’re seeing.” She nodded at the letter he pulled out. “He sold Goldenglow.”

Brynjolf’s green eyes went wide and he glanced down at the letter, reading quickly, muttering, “Aringoth sold Goldenglow? What's that idiot thinking? He has no idea the extent of Maven's fury when she's been cut out of a deal, but I'm certain he'll find out. If only the parchment had the buyer's name instead of this odd symbol. Any idea what that might be?”

She shook her head, propping her feet up on the table, eyeing the other thieves walking around. “Dunno. I just lifted the key and went to the basement.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t even talk to him?”

She hummed, scratching at the oak table. “Nah. I’m pretty sure that even if I did, he wouldn’t give me much. I just got the information and came back.” Eyeing him, she murmured, “I’m sure your sources would have a better chance at getting info than I would.”

He grunted, placing the latter back on the table. “Blast. Well, I'll check my sources and speak to Mercer. But for now, you're off to speak to Maven Black-Briar. She asked for you by name."

Her face pinched again, and she grumbled, “I have to talk to that old hag? For what?”

Brynjolf chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he countered, “That's between you and Maven and I prefer to keep it that way. Don't worry about it. Maven's business dealings usually involve quite a bit of gold for her people."

Scoffing, she reached down and wrung the leftover water from her tavern skirt. “I’m not worried about Maven. She doesn’t even make my top one hundred list of things that worry me.”

He regarded her with a curious, but cautious look as he murmured, “You don’t seem to be afraid of much lass. Even with someone like Maven, who wields the Dark Brotherhood.” She arched an eyebrow, reaching into the bag. One after the other, she tossed letters his way, watching as he opened them and read them silently.

When he was finished, he looked back at her and she declared, “Whoever this Astrid is has sent at least six assassins after me.” She dropped her feet to the floor, leaning over to whisper, “If Maven ever wants me dead, she’d have to do it herself because so far, the Dark Brotherhood is nothing but a group of the worst assassins I’ve ever seen.” Rising, she gathered her things, slinging the satchel over her body. “You’re right about one thing Brynjolf. I’m not afraid of much. In fact, there’s nothing I’m afraid of.” Casting one last glance at him, she advised, “Everything in Tamriel should be more afraid of me.” She sauntered off to the other table, placing down a small bee statue in front of Delvin, beginning to broker a payment for it.

He gazed at her for a moment, watching the way she crossed her arms under her breasts in an effort to distract the thief, then looked back at the notes she’d tossed him. He’d never met Astrid like Delvin had, but he knew her and her sanctuary’s reputation. If his newest guildmate was tough enough to take out six assassins and get into a manor swarming with mercenaries undetected, he needed to do some digging. No one was this good, and as much as he believed in luck, this catch was too lucky for his taste. She moved with a silent grace that stunned him. So many times, she appeared beside him before he could even realize she was there. And he only realized it because she let him. Her stealth was only rivaled by her cockiness in her—no, not cockiness—she wasn’t cocky for the sake of being so. She had the skill to back up her word. He observed her as she grinned at Delvin, pocketing the gold he’d paid her for the statue. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced over, meeting Brynjolf’s. A bolt of understanding flashed between them and she drew her fingers across Delvin’s shoulders as she made her way to the cistern.

#brynjolf imagines #brynjolf imagine #brynjolf x reader imagines #brynjolf x reader imagine #brynjolf x dragonborn #brynjolf x dragonborn imagines #brynjolf x dragonborn imagine #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim imagines #skyrim imagine

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supervillain-smut · 4 years

Note

Here's your chance to flesh out Samrafi. I pick A-Z 👀 I love hearing about others characters

Thank you so, so much!!!

A.) What is their preferred class? (Battlemage, nightblade, spellsword, ect)

She's an archer, through and through, but is also a bard of sorts, loving to shout.

B.) What is their opinion of their "homeland"?

She doesn't know much about it, at least not enough to form an opinion, especially not political ones.

D.) How is their love life?

Very empty, more platonic love than romantic love although she doesn't mind it, she does have those moments where she stares that little bit too long at Cicero, meanwhile he's blissfully unaware how much she really cares about him and that she yearns for more of a relationship with him.

E.) Worst adventuring experience?

Probably facing the Dragon Priest Otar. She had told Cicero to stay put in case the puzzle left her trapped, and ended up facing him alone. She had never wanted Cicero back by her side so badly. She felt like a child, and hated every second of it.

F.) Best adventuring experience?

Dragon Priest Vokun. She had heard of them, but and never seen or faced one, and the fact that she and Cicero did it together, back to back as he shielded her from his magic attacks with an Ebony Shield as she peeked out from it occasionally to fire an arrow or three, it was thrilling. It was also the first time she showed extreme affection to Cicero, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly.

G.) Their most hated animal/creature in Tamriel?

Falmer and Dragons, naturally. The Falmer are a genuine challenge, meanwhile Dragons have proven to be nothing but pests, save Paarthurnax.

H.) What animals can they not resist petting?

Horses! She fell in love with her black and white Eowyn from Markarth, and Shadowmere has been spoiled rotten, as stated by Lucien off-handedly.

I.) Their opinion on necromancy?

She despised it initially, but after meeting Lucien and hearing about what happened to him, she considered it. Secretly looking to see if she could bring him back to a physical state rather than just force, but it never came to be.

K.) What are classes they are interested in but have no talent for?

Pickpocketing, just being a thief in general, one-handed weapons and alchemy! She refuses to put foreign things in her mouth, and thus learns nothing about the ingredient.

L.) Most painful memory?

Cicero, curled up in agony, begging to be spared, as well as when he went down to a Draugr Overlord; she swept up his shield and stood in front of him, bashing the Draugr away from him with such ferocity, Cicero hardly recognized her.

M.) What specific individuals do they consider their enemies?

Astrid, may she suffer eternally, and Mercer Frey, for enacting the same crimes as Astrid.

N.) What specific individuals do they consider close friends?

Cicero, M'aiq gives her a good laugh while on the road when they meet, Lucien, Kharjo for his loyalty to the traders and Sheogorath, oddly enough. It was a fun experience, not having to take herself seriously for once, and a breath of fresh air. It was intoxicating and exhilarating.

O.) Favorite artifacts? Can be of any origin.

All the Dragon Priest masks she's collected thus far, as well as the Dragon Claws and the Wabbajack. She's absolutely in love with anything glass she finds, too!

P.) Favorite fields of study? Does not have to pertain to their class.

Sneaking and Lockpicking, as well as dabbling in spellcasting; mostly things to heal her companions and her quicker than a health potion.

R.) Vampire, lycanthrope, or neither, and why? And if either, what type of lycan, or are they a vampire lord?

Neither, personally, but she favors vampires, hearing the tales of Vicente Valtieri from Lucien, and being fairly close to Babette.

T.) What was the most difficult decision they've ever made?

To kill Astrid with the Blade of Woe, or let her fade. She killed her quickly once she explained she was an offering.

V.) What is their mental health like? Or their physical health?

She has a lot of anxiety over those she cares about, and goes through a couple of depression bouts, but she's very strong, resilient.

W.) Do they drink? Ale, mead, wine, or something else?

Neither normally, but when the sanctuary fell she got herself absolutely pissed with Cicero and Nazir once safe in Dawnstar as Babette just shook her head at them.

X.) Have they ever tried Skooma?

No. After she saw what it did to that woman in Riften and helped tear the whole operation down, she's not even taken a second glance at the stuff.

Y.) Do they ever wish their lives could have been different?

Initially, yes. After finding her home with the Brotherhood, and getting the hang of the whole Dragonborn deal she never looked back. Cicero helps her look to the future rather than the past.

Q, S, Z and C, J, U

#oc samrafi #samrafi #skyrim #tes skyrim

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