Roggi handed the young man a few coins and took the parchment he’d said was for his hands only. He frowned, because he recognized the hand in which his name was written on the front. He made his way to the table on the porch and sat down, squinting against the sun and waving aside one of the many butterflies that had been enjoying it as much as he was. Elk were bugling from the hillside to their south. It seemed a real shame to break the mood of such a lovely day with what was undoubtedly bad news.
“Another one from Delvin?” Dardeh asked from across the porch as he leaned backward, stretching out his muscles. They’d been working on the gardens; hard, dirty work but perfect to do in weather like this. It hadn’t taken much more than the courier’s arrival to convince them to take a break.
“Yeah, looks like it.” He broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
“Hmm. I hope everything’s alright. Seems like there have been a lot of them lately.”
Roggi frowned again. “I know. I’m worried about this. We don’t know what’s going on with Sayma, and Bryn was just barely in one piece when he saw him last. We may end up with three children permanently at this rate.”
Dardeh smiled. “Would that be so bad, love of my life? It’s not like we can’t afford it. They do pay us well for keeping up with the dragons.”
Roggi looked up and smiled at him. Dardeh could finish any bad mood he might have without effort, by nothing more than a look; but when he talked about love, well it was all over as far as Roggi was concerned. He could ask for anything, and Roggi would do it if he could.
“No, it wouldn’t. He’s a great kid. And frankly, living next to a torture chamber is not really a good environment for anyone, much less a child. We’d be doing him a service by raising him here.”
Dardeh’s smile faded. “You would know.”
“Yes, I would,” Roggi murmured as he flipped open the letter. The less said about that, the better, as far as he was concerned. It always disturbed Dardeh to be reminded that he had a finely-honed talent for putting people in the most exquisite pain. It disturbed him more to know that Ulfric had been directly responsible for that. It’s not a healthy pastime. It eats at a guy. You can’t ever be quite free of it. I don’t want young Bryn to grow up like that, and I know Dar doesn’t. I don’t know how forceful we’d have to get with Sayma to get her to agree with us.
He realized what he’d just thought, and tsk’d at himself. What am I even thinking? That’s just not right. Honestly, every time I have a thought that involves Ulfric…
He forced himself to focus on the note.
I hope you can see your way clear to make another trip to Riften. I hate to ask, but he just doesn’t listen to me and for some reason you can always get through to him. He’s not acting right. We’re all on pins and needles down here. I’m half afraid he’s going to go out and find someone to… well, you know. – D.M.
He re-folded the letter and sighed. “Well that’s no good.”
“Problem with Brynjolf?”
“Yeah.” He cracked his neck and stretched. “Delvin’s afraid he’s going to go looking for someone to turn him again.”
Dardeh had been looking away down the lake but at that, his head snapped around and he stared at Roggi in dismay.
“We can’t let that happen.”
“No, we can’t. There wouldn’t be any way to cure him again. Because the rumor is that our friend Vitus also took out the only mage aside from himself who knew how to do it.”
Dardeh snorted, and tossed his hands up in annoyance. “Of course. Of course he did. Damn. How long will it take you to get there?”
Roggi smiled up at him. “Not too long if I take one of the horses.”
Dardeh cupped his face with one hand. “So why are you waiting? Lydia and I can take care of the small fry.”
Roggi stood and planted a quick kiss on Dardeh’s cheek before starting toward the door. “As long as that’s all she helps you take care of.”
Dardeh laughed. “Roggi. You know better.” He stepped closer and slid his arms around Roggi’s waist from behind, then nuzzled his neck.
Roggi grinned, even as a shiver of delight ran up him. “Yeah, I do. But if you don’t let go of me I’ll never get out of here. I’ll try not to stay too long.”
Dardeh nibbled on his ear.
“Damn, Dar, don’t do that! We’ll be here all day.”
Dardeh laughed and stepped back from him. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone. I have some things to do, anyway. You get going.”
“Good enough. I’ll be off.”
He was almost to the door when he heard Dardeh’s voice again.
“Um, Roggi?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how to ask this but… Keep an ear open. I want to know what’s going on with the truce.”
Roggi frowned. Dardeh had been taking way too much interest in the war lately for his taste.
“Dar…”
“Go to Windhelm if you have to. I need to know, Roggi.” There was a different quality to Dardeh’s voice in this statement. It wasn’t a request, any more.
Roggi sighed. There it is. The tone that says ‘obey me.’
“Yeah, alright. I’ll see what I can do. I can always use an excuse to check in on Iddra and Kjeld anyway.”
“Bring Brynjolf back here if you can. It would do him good to see his son. Make him remember that there’s a reason he needs to stay mortal. I can’t imagine that Delvin would have a problem with that.”
“OK. I’ll do what I can.”
“Do it, Roggi. I know you know how.”
Does he even know what he’s saying?
“Yeah, yeah. Ok. I’ll be back in a few days.” He reached for the door handle, but turned to look at his stern-faced husband first. “I love you, Dar.”
“I know.” Dardeh’s expression softened into a smile. “You make that very clear, every day.”
Roggi snickered. “Yes, I do.”
He entered the house to gather his things, grinning as he went. Is it my fault that I enjoy my husband for more than just his personality and his big voice? A guy needs to do his spousal duty, after all.
He whistled as he walked up the stairs.
—-
Brynjolf paced.
He paced around the Cistern, back and forth to the Ragged Flagon, and back to the Cistern again. He stood behind the Guildmaster’s desk and pretended to be examining the books; but in reality he couldn’t focus on them, and he wasn’t sure why not. It was as though he couldn’t rest in his own skin at all these days, and no amount of mead, or pacing, or good food, or even contemplating a particularly fine heist had the ability to make him feel calmer. Maven had suggested dryly that he take some time for himself. Delvin had been in his face more often than was reasonable. Vex had been snapping at him. The rank and file had been excited to see him finally, officially become Guildmaster, but when they’d felt the foul mood radiating from him they’d all backed away. And every time he saw Karliah, she asked whether he was alright in that tone that meant “You’re definitely not alright.”
Is this what he felt like between doses of skooma, when he was mortal? This restlessness? This… hunger?
For a moment, yet again, he felt the piercing pain of his loss. To reach the heights he had reached and suddenly be cut down was hard enough. To lose Andante and only then fully realize how very much he had cared about him made it all worse.
Is that what it is? All that skooma I had while I was… could I be…
He shook his head. That wasn’t the problem, and he knew it. He’d never had a problem with it in his youth. There were dozens of bottles of the best of Vitus’ efforts stacked in Honeyside, and if he’d somehow managed to become addicted to it in spite of a vampire’s immunity to poisons the lure of it would have taken him long before this. He had no more desire for it, no interest in it.
It wouldn’t be the same without him, anyway.
He turned back toward the Cistern and saw a figure wearing a dark hood crossing the center of the space, approaching Niruin and his archery practice. It was one of the new recruits, a slight man, and Brynjolf recognized him; but for a moment he saw Andante and his heart caught in his throat.
He returned to the desk and leaned against it, his head down. He closed his eyes and squeezed them as tightly shut as he could against the stinging behind them.
Dag is gone. Andante – no, Vitus – is gone. Dynny is gone, long ago, and I can’t see him again. I know this. I just need to believe it.
For what felt like the millionth time he ran his tongue over the place where once had been long, sharp fangs and winced to find normal teeth. It wasn’t that he missed the taste of blood, in spite of having craved it when he was a vampire; that wasn’t it at all. He missed…
What is it that I miss, after all?
He opened his eyes and lifted his head, and thought of Andante, lounging in the bath in Honeyside with his head resting against the stones. His neck had been long, and supple, and always available.
It came to him. It wasn’t the blood he missed; it was the sensations and the power. The strength, being able to lift a man off the ground like a rag doll and throw him through the air effortlessly. He missed the speed, being able to travel faster on his own legs than he ever could on horseback. His lips running along soft, warm skin, feeling the pulsing veins beneath. The sharp pop of his fangs pressing through flesh. Transforming to a Vampire Lord and flying along beside the younger man who idolized him so.
He missed being wanted like that.
And he missed the way Andante’s lips had caressed his, drawing his emotions out through their touch. He missed that very much.
Why am I torturing myself? He’s gone, I’m not a vampire any more, and none of that is ever going to happen again.
None of it.
He turned to face the wall and struck it with the edge of one fist, just above his head. And then stopped short; for this was exactly the spot where he had slammed Dagnell against the wall so long ago.
For a moment he saw her there in front of him as clearly as though she’d never left, and he had to stop himself from calling her name. But then her face changed, and it was Sayma Sendu. He caught his breath. Just thinking about her made his pulse race, and he’d thought about her a great deal. He remembered how it had felt in Dawnstar when he’d realized it was her, and pulled her to him, and her warm body had felt just the same as it had the last time he’d held her in Riften. But her face was different. She was even more beautiful.
Gods. How can I even be thinking about her like that? She left me. And for two years she let me believe that she was gone. And didn’t tell me about the boy.
I was loved. I was needed. He gave up his life for me.
How can I possibly be thinking about how she looks?
He’d thought about her all the way from Dawnstar to Riften, and he’d been angry. Angry at himself for having the thoughts, surprised they had been happening, and horrified by them because he was also desperately angry with her for leaving him and with Vitus for leaving him, and with himself for being a stupid man who missed them both desperately in spite of it.
He closed his eyes again, and stood quietly, wondering if he was ever going to feel sane again. Right now, he thought, I’m certain that I’m going mad.
“Is everything alright, Brynjolf?”
The dark voice made him smile. She’d been watching out for him since before he was out of his teens.
“No, Karliah. It really isn’t. I’m losing my mind.” He turned to smile at her. “But there’s not a single thing to be done about it. Is there something you need, lass?”
Karliah shook her head, smiled, and reached out one hand to touch his forearm. “I know it’s difficult for you right now, Brynjolf. If there’s anything that I can do to make it easier, you have only to ask. I hope you know that.”
“Aye. Thank you, Karliah.”
“I’m just on my way out. Delvin asked me to tell you that he’s looking for you.”
Brynjolf snorted. Am I that bad, now, that old Delvin doesn’t even dare come to speak to me himself? Shor’s beard, I’m turning into Mercer.
“He sent you all the way from the other room, eh? Well. Did he happen to mention what this was about?”
Karliah chuckled. “No he didn’t. And don’t be hard on him, Brynjolf. You’ve been a bit of a bear to deal with recently, pacing around in here like a caged animal. He’s worried about you and so are the rest of us.”
“I appreciate the concern, lass. But it’s not warranted.”
Karliah smiled and turned to go, but stopped to look back at him for just a moment before continuing. “Isn’t it?”
He watched her walk away and sighed. Clever lass.
Ah, damn it. They all know me too well.
He shook his head and made his way to the Flagon, nodding at Vipir and Thrynn and fighting to suppress a grin at the latter. It didn’t matter how much time elapsed, Thrynn nursed a small grudge that Dagnell hadn’t even noticed his attentions and had ended up with the Guildmaster instead.
Well, that’s something. I’m even thinking of myself as the Guildmaster now. She’d be giving me a hard time about that, wouldn’t she?
He stepped through the old storage cabinet and into the Flagon and said “Alright, Delvin, what’s this all about?”
Delvin was standing with his back toward Brynjolf, but turned at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, it’s nothing, boss, it’s just that…”
“It’s that I’ve come all the way out here to knock a little sense into you, brother,” Roggi finished, stepping out from behind Delvin and grinning. “I heard you were frightening the young ones and thought I’d better come intervene.”
In spite of himself, Brynjolf laughed. “Roggi. It’s good to see you, lad.” He extended his hand, but Roggi shook his head.
“Nah, you don’t get away with just that,” Roggi told him, gathering him up into a warm hug.
Brynjolf hugged him back, hard, emotions rising up from his core and taking comfort in the warmth of the embrace. How often had this man shown up in his darkest moments, sharing his strength and asking nothing in return? At first he’d thought Roggi did so out of guilt, but that wasn’t the case. He was simply a friend, a good friend, maybe the best friend he’d had in decades; and it was clear that nothing was going to change that.
“Let’s sit down and have a drink, Roggi.”
“I’d like that.” Roggi found one of the tables and slipped into a chair.
Brynjolf turned to Delvin. “Delvin, I have something I’d like you to take care of while we’re talking.”
Delvin nodded. “Of course. What is it?”
“In Honeyside. Bedroom. Left-hand table.” He leaned close to Delvin’s ear and whispered. “Sixty-four bottles of some of the finest skooma ever cooked in Skyrim. It was Vitus’ specialty, and it’s very, very good. I want them gone. They’ll fetch a good price, I think. Yes?”
Delvin’s eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth rose. “You bet. I take it you’ve sampled the wares? You can vouch for the quality?”
Brynjolf chuckled. “Yes I have and it’s damned good, Delvin. If you try some, make sure you’ve got nothing else on your calendar for awhile.”
“You’re certain about this? You don’t want to keep it?”
Brynjolf nodded. “Yes, I’m certain.” I don’t trust myself in my current state of mind, and that kind of temptation just sitting there is the last thing I need. I just don’t know what I’m capable of, quite yet, and I don’t want to make a mistake.
“I’ll go now. Keys?”
He snorted. “Are you trying to tell me you need keys, now, Delvin?” He fished the keys to Honeyside out of his pocket anyway, and handed them over.
Delvin chuckled. “Right. I’ll be back in no time.” He started for the door and then turned back. “I gotta tell ya, Bryn. About this? It’s kind of nice not having to walk on eggshells about it. I’ll make sure we get a good price.”
“That’s great. Thank you.”
He took a moment to buy two tankards of mead from Vekel and then slid into the chair opposite Roggi.
“Here you go.” He slid one of the tankards across the table.
“Thanks. So I couldn’t help but overhear that. Force of habit, sorry. It sounds like a good idea to me, moving it out, that is.”
“Yes. I want to keep some of his things. This, for example,” he said, twisting the ruby ring Andante had made for him. This ring. I’ll never take it off again. “That, though, that’s not a happy memory of him. Or, rather, it is… but it’s not a safe memory. I think you know the kind.”
Roggi nodded. “I do. How are you doing, Bryn?” He kept his voice soft. “I mean really.”
Brynjolf looked down at the table.
I wish I thought I could get away with this.
“I’d like to just tell you I’m fine.”
“And you’d be full of shit if you did.”
Brynjolf chuckled. “That’s a fact.” He looked up at Roggi’s concerned face and shrugged. “It’s hard. I’m … not sure what to say, lad.”
Roggi frowned. “Well you know I’m not going to let it go, Bryn, but I don’t know that this is the place for it. So I’ll ask you something else instead.” He took a drink of his mead and then lowered the tankard to the table. “Dar has been hearing things. About the truce not holding. He sent me out here to look into it. Is anything important happening out here?”
Brynjolf studied him for a moment. I wasn’t expecting that.
“I don’t get involved in politics.”
Roggi’s curious eyebrows rose, and he snorted. “Right. And neither do I. Come on, Brynjolf. This is important. Save me having to make a trip to Windhelm. Dar’s fixated on this. I’m worried about him, and just about the last thing I want to do is go anywhere near Ulfric Stormcloak.”
I should think not. Talk about unsafe memories.
“I wish I had something specific for you but I don’t. It’s a little harder to talk to Maven these days what with her sitting on the Jarl’s throne and all. It looks more than a little suspicious for me to go sauntering in there during court when I never went near the place before.” And Dag’s not here to do it for me.
“And?”
He’s just not going to let it drop, is he?
“Alright. There’s a rumor going on that our friend in the north is getting ready for something big. That’s the extent of what I know. And that’s all Delvin knows, as well. I will admit that I have asked.”
Roggi sighed heavily. “Damn it. That means I am going to have to go to Windhelm.”
Brynjolf watched as Roggi stared blankly at the table and shuddered visibly. He felt his ire beginning to rise as he recalled everything Roggi had told the family about his past with the Jarl of Windhelm.
That man still needs to die, in my opinion. I can’t do it though, especially not now that I’m the Guildmaster. I can’t put us at risk. But…
“Listen. What if I went with you? For backup.”
Roggi looked up at him with an expression of disbelief. “Did I hear that right? Did you just offer to come to Windhelm with me?”
Brynjolf ran a hand through his hair. “Aye. I’m going crazy down here. I spent all that time being able to run free and I’m just feeling…”
He shrugged. I’m feeling like if I can’t get out in the air for awhile I’m going to explode, thinking about him. Thinking about her. Something bad’s going to happen, somehow. It’s no good.
There was a long pause, while Roggi studied him and took a moment to drain his flagon. He leaned closer and whispered. “Ok, so maybe this is the time for this question after all. You’re not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you Bryn? Tell me you’re not.”
Ah so that’s what this visit is about. I’ll bet Delvin put him up to this. Sneaky bastard. He scanned the room to make certain that nobody was close enough to hear them. Vekel was standing just a bit too close to their table, pretending to sweep the floor; but a pointed stare at him was all it took for him to nod and move away. Brynjolf turned back to Roggi, just in time for a particularly loud burst of raucous laughter from the other side of the room to drown out his first attempt at words. He smirked at it and then tried again.
“No, my friend. I’m not. I won’t say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, though. I miss it. And I need to not miss it.” He paused for a drink from his tankard, trying to find the right words. “That’s part of why I sent Delvin to do that errand. I don’t need any temptations. Look. It’s my fault they’re gone, both of them, Dynny and… Vitus. It was partly my fault that the Guild almost fell apart before Dag got here; I was too stupid to see what was going on right under my own nose. I can’t change any of that but there’s one thing I know for certain: I can’t be the cause of the Guild falling apart now. I thought…”
Roggi was staring at him intently. Brynjolf recognized the piercing, analytical gaze of an interrogator and marveled at the idea that this was the case. The first time he’d met Roggi, the man had been barely coherent from drink, skinny from lack of training and hadn’t at all resembled the strong, dark man across the table from him.
“You thought what?” Roggi pressed him.
“I thought I could protect the Guild, being a vampire, because I was so powerful. But I couldn’t have. I couldn’t sit still. I had to run, and hunt, and…” He stretched his shoulders out. “And now I can’t sit still because I can’t get used to being normal again. Gods, Roggi. Yes, I’ll go to Windhelm with you, before I lose what’s left of my mind. Maven’s told me to take some time anyway, and Delvin can handle things here at least as well as I can.”
Roggi looked skeptical. “You do know that’s ridiculous, don’t you?”
“What is?”
He straightened up in his chair. “You being at fault for all that. You weren’t. You’ve got to stop thinking that way, Brynjolf.”
“Yeah. I wish I could.”
Roggi folded his arms and gave him what could only be described as an evil smirk. “I know how to convince people to change their minds about things. Need me to work you over?”
Brynjolf tossed his head back and laughed long and hard. He saw Vekel as well as the noisy table of bar patrons across the room turn to stare at him. He didn’t care.
“No, I’ll pass. By the Eight, I needed a laugh. Alright. Let’s go find Delvin and let him know he needs to work for a change and we’ll head north.”
Roggi sighed and rose from his chair. “Yeah. I’d just as soon pass on that part of it, but when Dar gets that voice going…”
Brynjolf grinned. “So he knows how to be convincing, too, I see.”
“Oh yes. It’s really something. I…” Roggi stopped, shook his head, and chuckled. “Yes he does.”
Brynjolf clapped Roggi on the back as they headed for the exit. “You have got it so bad, my friend.”
Roggi’s eyes twinkled as he looked at Brynjolf and said “You know it, my brother.”