Dag stood before the Temple of Mara, determined to do this thing and yet trembling. A part of her heart still broke thinking of the sweet, tentative way Roggi had suggested they visit this place together. But a larger part of it was terrified by what she intended to do, and what sort of reception would result from it. She walked up the steps, slowly, and entered.
The Temple was a serene place, quiet and warm. Pews were arranged on either side of the room, facing an altar and a shrine to Mara, the mother-goddess and goddess of love.
Brother Maramal, the Priest of Mara, stood not far inside the door. He turned to her as she approached.
“Blessings of Mara upon you, my child,” he said. “How may I assist you?”
“I understand that this is the place in Skyrim where I might get married,” Dag murmured, not able to raise her voice above a whisper.
“You wish to be married? Splendid!” Then he explained how the procedure would work. “Life in Skyrim is hard, and short, and there is little time for prolonged courtship,” he said. A person looking for a spouse should buy and wear an Amulet of Mara, he told her, to indicate their availability for marriage; then, when a prospective spouse agreed, one of them would return to him to make the arrangements.
“I’d like to buy the amulet, then,” Dag gulped.
Way to raise coin for the Temple, her sarcastic voice observed.
Shut up, already. Someone has to pay for the amulets.
It was a beautiful necklace, really: a disc with intertwined symbols of infinity under an intricate knot, and with a green stone in the center, the color of new spring leaves. It was perhaps a bit on the ostentatious side, especially for a person who rarely wore, or even owned, jewelry; but it was supposed to attract attention, after all. Dag slowly fastened it around her neck, her fingers fumbling with its clasp, her thoughts racing hither and yon. What if he doesn’t notice? What if he doesn’t … want me? What would she do, she wondered, having to be side by side with him every day, even having to give him direction if his intention for her to become Guildmaster became reality, and yet knowing that he didn’t care for her the way she cared for him?
And what of him? All she knew about his past was that he’d come to Skyrim from Falskaar as a boy, and that some of the Guild thought he had slept with everyone in it. She grinned to herself for a moment, until her thoughts went serious again. Well what if he had? What if he already had someone, and she’d just never noticed?
She almost took the Amulet off.
You’re stronger than that.
Dag sighed and worked her way to Grelka’s stand in the marketplace to unload some of the pickings of her travels. Grelka glanced at Dag, her face showing frank surprise.
“Well look at you, wearing an Amulet of Mara! Does that mean you’re available?” she said, with a twinkle in her eye.
Dag was stunned. Wow, she thought. That wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. Well then. It’s actually kind of flattering.
She grinned. “I think so,” she said. “We’ll see what he has to say about it.” I hope that wasn’t rude, she thought. I had no idea. Grelka didn’t seem offended, though. She chuckled and bought the items Dag had to sell. Then she reached across her stall and gave Dag’s hand a squeeze. “You’re a real friend,” she said. “Good friends are hard to come by, and are very special to me.”
I wonder what I did, Dag thought. Well, as long as it was a good thing. At least there are a couple of merchants in Riften who don’t think I’m an extortionist.
She went to the Ratway. If she dealt with Vex and Delvin first, before seeking out Brynjolf, maybe her stomach would stop flipping.
Her eyes darted about the Flagon, anyway, searching for him, but he wasn’t there. I don’t know whether I’m making this better or worse, she thought.
Devlin was pleased with her work. “You’d better watch out, pet, or I might just start to respect you. You’re one of the best damn thieves in this place. And if you tell a soul I said that, I’ll deny it.” Dag thought that she saw his eyes flicker down to her neck for just a moment, but he said nothing about it.
Instead, he handed her a new job, a big one, he said, one that could start re-establishing the Guild’s power in the north. Torsten Cruel-Sea, in Windhelm, had asked for the best in dealing with a problem. Delvin was sending her; not asking whether she was interested, but simply giving her the assignment.
Hmm, Dag thought. What is this, another test? Well I suppose Brynjolf and Karliah need to be sure I can handle things before they crown me Guildmaster. She grimaced.
“OK, Delvin, I’ll get up there as soon as I can manage it. I have a couple of things I need to take care of here, first, if that’s ok.”
“Of course,” he nodded. She was convinced she saw his gaze flit across the Amulet again. Well he’s no fool, she thought. It’s not as though he doesn’t recognize the thing.
Vex was also pleased with her work, and prodded her to take more. Leaving without taking another job was like leaving a fat coin purse on the table, after all. And we all know that you don’t leave coin purses on the table, Dag thought, grinning as she accepted another job. At least I have no illusions about myself in that regard.
Dag went around the corner into the Cistern, but he wasn’t there. She wandered around the room, checking nearly every corner, even peeking into the still-opened and still empty vault. So where has he gotten himself off to, she wondered. It was so important for him to get back here to supervise things, and he’s not even here? The “precarious time” wouldn’t exactly be the best moment to leave Riften on some small job or other.
Dag was starting to get annoyed when she stepped into the training room, for once devoid of thieves training. She caught her breath. He was there, perched on a bale of hay, engrossed in a book. He was wearing a new set of the thick black leathers of the Guildmaster, the ones with the finest enchantments money could buy, like the ones he’d worn before but somehow seeming even darker. Even the midnight black hood that covered his head could not disguise him to Dag. He cut a much finer figure as Guildmaster than Mercer ever did.
She walked over to him, waiting.
Brynjolf looked up. Dag could see enough of his mouth to see that tiny smile, that small acknowledgement that was all he usually offered her, or anyone. Then he looked back at his book.
“Hello, lass. I didn’t hear you there.”
She was perfectly confident that he had known she was there from the moment she entered the Flagon, and she laughed.
“You’re lying, but that’s ok. You’re right about that damned hood. You could be Maven under there.”
He chuckled and pushed the hood off, then ran his hand through his hair. “Better?” Somehow the torchlight managed to find every fiery highlight in his hair, and his movements revealed the glint of gold, a heavy pendant hanging around his neck, an unusual look for him. She smiled and nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.
He glanced at her again and then back to his book. “Well I’m glad to see you back in one piece. I wanted to give you a proper thank you for everything you’ve done to get the Guild back on its feet. I take it the Skeleton Key is back where it belongs?”
“I wouldn’t be back if it wasn’t. You know that.”
Brynjolf closed his eyes and heaved an enormous sigh. He was silent for a long moment. When he did speak, his voice was quiet, deep, and weighty.
“That’s it, then. After all those years of helplessly watching the Guild decline. Thank you, lass.”
Dag watched his face change. Sorrow flickered across it for just a moment, to be replaced by sheer weariness. He reached up and rubbed his eyes, then opened them and looked back down to his book.
Dag was stunned. The Guild really was the most important thing in the world to him, and watching it fading away must have hurt desperately. He had been the glue that held it together, all this time, and the strain had to have been immense, especially in the face of Mercer’s betrayal. Dag had known all of that, intellectually, but seeing it reflected on Brynjolf’s face was heartrending. No wonder it had been so important to him to get back here after Mercer died, to try to hold it together. No wonder he never slept more than a few hours at a stretch. No wonder he had sounded so tired when he asked her to be Guildmaster instead of himself. No wonder he wouldn’t look up from that book and reveal his feelings.
Well then, she thought, even if he won’t have me, I really have given him something special, at least assuming that Nocturnal follows through on her end of the bargain. I’ll be more or less content with that. Having watched Gallus’ final moments she felt confident, though, that Nocturnal would be with them; she was all business where her contracts were concerned. But Dag couldn’t tell that to Brynjolf. First, it was Karliah’s story to share, not hers. And second, she would be the one with unwelcome emotions if she tried. She’d been trembling for close to an hour already, fighting hard to hide it.
“If I did something to help, I’m glad. Thank you, Brynjolf. That … means a lot to me.” It meant more than a lot. He’d just let that facade of his drop for a moment, revealing something important to her. Her, a nobody out of Nowhere, Stros M’Kai. She cleared her throat.
“By the way, I like the new gear. Neckwear, even. Fancy. It suits you.”
He wrinkled his nose, still not taking his eyes off his book. “The others made me do it. It feels strange. Brand new and stiff. I like my old armor better, but I guess if I could wear that Nightingale getup I can get used to this for a while,” he said, shifting his shoulders in the jacket. He tugged on the heavy chain and pendant around his neck. “And this thing is kind of a tradition around here. A badge of office, I suppose. It has an enchantment on it, to help with … well, intimidation if we get right down to it. I was surprised it was here, actually. Thought it was probably at the bottom of that cavern along with Mercer’s bones, getting rusty. I guess he must have taken it off because he had the Key and didn’t need it any longer.”
“Pfft. Your old armor needed to be taken out and burned. It was filthy. As to the amulet, traditions are good but I’m sure you don’t need the extra help parting people from their coin.”
He chuckled. “Well, lass, I fully intend that this will be hanging around your neck in the not too distant future.” He looked up at her then, finally, and his gaze naturally fell to her neck — and the Amulet of Mara hanging around it.
His eyebrows rose, just a bit, and his eyes flickered, much as they had that first day in the marketplace when she had told him no. Dag’s heart was threatening to pound its way out of her chest. Would he mention it? Would he pretend he hadn’t seen it? Would he spare her the embarrassment of rejection?
He looked back up at her face. A moment passed, then another, maybe an eternity, in which his brilliant green eyes held hers intently but didn’t reveal their thoughts. It reminded her, horribly, of that long look across the Cistern. She couldn’t decide whether he was upset, disgusted, or maybe resigned, but he definitely didn’t look happy. He heaved another great sigh and worked at the inside of his mouth as though he wasn’t quite sure what words he wanted to speak, and needed to consider his choices very carefully.
“I see you’re wearing new jewelry as well. An amulet of Mara, is it? That usually means someone is … available.”
She tried desperately to be matter-of-fact. “Yeah, that’s what Maramal told me. So I bought the thing. I’m hoping the message gets across.”
Again he was silent, staring at her, obviously sizing her up. Oh look at the two of us, Dag thought, dancing around, each trying to outguess the other. This is absurd. Why can’t one of us just say what we’re thinking?
“I was pretty sure you didn’t pick that up in the Sepulcher.” He gave her a small smile and sighed heavily. “So, you want to get married. I almost hate to ask. Which of the lads is your mark? No, wait. Let me guess. It’s Thrynn. I’ve seen the two of you together more than once. No wonder Vipir’s been sour lately.”
Dag took just a moment to be startled, then broke out laughing. He had watched her talking to Thrynn. “Thrynn? Really? He’s fine to look at and all but Thrynn? Really?”
Brynjolf raised one eyebrow.
“No? I’m surprised. I would have bet a tidy sum on that. In that case, I can’t even imagine. Don’t tell me you’re wearing this for my benefit, lass,” he said, chuckling.
“That depends entirely on whether you’re interested,” she said, quickly, blurting the words out before she had a chance to back down, her knees threatening to give way. Those were the words Maramal had told her to say, or at least a reasonable facsimile of them.
“Oh.” Brynjolf’s brow furrowed.
Dag’s heart fell to the floor. Oh damn, she thought. Now he’s going to tell me what a good joke it was, or just say no and send me away. And I am going to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. I hope my face isn’t showing what I’m feeling.
“Oh!”
He rose from the hay bale and tossed the book into a corner.
“Let me make sure I understand. Is that what you’re saying, lass? You’re asking about me?”
He looked so genuinely unsure and confused. She should have been sympathetic but instead she was simply annoyed.
“By all the gods, Red, don’t be an idiot,” she snapped. “Why else would I say such a thing to you?”
Brynjolf took a deep breath and blew it out. He crossed his arms and just looked at her, examining, as though he was about to send her off on an assignment. She wanted to die. A part of her felt like it was dying. He didn’t want her. Coyle didn’t want her any more, Roggi didn’t want her any more, and now Brynjolf. She didn’t need a man in her life but she wanted a man. This man. Specifically this one. Not just for bedding, as much as she had to admit she wanted that, but for good. And he’s going to turn me down, she wailed to herself. She struggled, hard. I’m not willing to let him see how distressed I am.
Brynjolf cleared his throat and spoke.
“First of all. Red. Really.” He shook his head and sighed.
Dag looked down, trying to hide a small grin. In spite of her overwhelming sadness, it still made her laugh to see the reaction he had to her pet name for him.
“But more importantly – I’ve been alone all my life, lass. With people, of course, but alone. The Guild has been my only family, really. I’ve never had anything that lasted very long. I’ve tried, now and then, but…” He trailed off and shrugged.
Dag nodded. I get it. He’s been alone all his life and he likes it that way. She struggled to keep her face neutral. “Neither have I. Things … go sideways.” That had been his phrase.
“Yes, exactly. And this line of work, well, it doesn’t really fit well with family life. You can imagine. You even told me that. ‘You’re not a nice family man, Brynjolf,’ if I recall correctly.”
She nodded. Yes, she sure had said that, damn it to Oblivion. And trust him to remember it word for word.
He stopped, working again at the inside of his mouth as if he was having a hard time to find the right words. He’s trying to figure out how to let me down gently, she thought. And I appreciate that, but I wish he wouldn’t drag it out like this.
He spoke quietly. “I’ve learned how to keep my mouth shut and my feelings to myself about this sort of thing because it never works out. Not ever. A quick hello here and there, a roll in the hay, some nice little interludes, but I’ve always assumed I would be alone in the long run.”
Dag took a deep breath and swallowed. She was about to apologize for putting him on the spot like that when Brynjolf reached for her hands. They dwarfed hers, big and calloused as they were. His words came slowly, deliberately, carefully chosen. He looked at her intently, saying “pay attention” with his eyes.
“Listen, lass. I don’t know what kind of husband I would make. I’m pretty rough around the edges.”
“I’ve noticed.” She shrugged. “So am I. I don’t care.”
“I’m not the kind of man who is going to be bringing you flowers.”
“I know. I don’t care.”
“I won’t be writing you a ballad.” He grinned. “I might try to sing you one, sometime, and I’m not sure how well I’d do with that, but I definitely won’t write one.”
She laughed, and squeezed his hands in amusement and nervous excitement. Maybe he wasn’t trying to say no after all.
“I’d go find myself a bard if that’s what I was interested in having. Brynjolf. I don’t care. I wouldn’t have ever thought of asking if I cared about such things. I know you better than that.” I want you, you idiot, not flowers. I can grow flowers if I want some.
He smiled. “What I’m trying to say is that if you’re really serious about this I can’t think of anyone better. I would be very happy to be with you, lass.”
Her legs threatened to give way beneath her. Thank you, all the gods, Dag thought. Thank you, Talos. Thank you for this one very special thing.
“Yes, Brynjolf. I’m really serious. We have to at least try. It seems to me that we somehow – match.” She moved closer to him, tentatively, and reached up to touch his face, tracing the jagged scar on his left cheek. I’ve never touched him before, she thought. Only in battle, only trying to help him stay on his feet. Maybe I can help him stay on his feet in a different way from here on out.
“Yes, lass. I think we do.”
He smiled, raised her hands in his and kissed her palms, one at a time, his gaze fixed on hers. He smiled, a gentle, genuine smile that went all the way to his eyes. Then those beautiful eyes began to twinkle.
“I want to… may I…” he said, and dropped her hands. Before she could speak, he laced his hands into her hair, moved closer, and bent down to kiss her. Dag had been trembling for an hour and now found herself trembling again, for a different reason. It was like the finest wine, heady and delicious, and she closed her eyes and melted into it, learning the shape and taste of him as his mouth caressed hers, their tongues touching, exploring. Yes, yes, yes, she thought. There you are. Finally. I’ve been looking for you.
He pulled back and smiled, then began slowly planting small kisses down the scarred side of her face and along her neck, the most sensitive part of her. Dag closed her eyes and tried not to moan aloud.
“So you really do want me?” Dag whispered against the softness of his red hair.
“Oh yes, lass,” he purred next to her ear in between butterfly kisses above her collarbone and then back up her neck. “Very much so. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he murmured. “I want to do it again.”
She barely had time to be startled by that revelation when he did just that. He dropped one hand, tracing down her spine to her waist and pulled her into him as close as he could. This kiss was not at all gentle; it was aggressive, his breathing speeding up, and she could feel how much he wanted her. Oh my, Dag thought somewhere in the back of her mind. How long has he been thinking like this? She leaned into him, meeting his aggressive kiss with her own, stopping to nip at his neck, just under his ear, and then returning to his mouth, running her hands into his hair, then down his back, willing him to understand how much she wanted him in return. This was it, she thought, all those times I thought I wanted to hit him. I just didn’t recognize it. The kiss had her whimpering, and Brynjolf moaning lightly, and it threatened to turn into something else right then and there. It stopped only because there was the sound of a throat being cleared behind them.
Dag’s heart nearly stopped. She whirled around to see Delvin standing in the door with his arms crossed. Brynjolf laughed, a deep, musical rumble.
By all the gods, Dag thought. I must be as red as a forge. We were just shy of starting in on each other’s leathers, right here in the training room. That would have made for quite the show, for certain. Her heart was pounding; she willed it to slow down and it wouldn’t.
An exhibitionist to boot, eh? Who knew?
Oh just shut up, would you please, just once? Dag thought. Not that she and Coyle hadn’t made love right out in the open more than once, under the edge of the docks, but still. Nobody had been watching. At least she thought that had been the case.
“Well, well. What do we have here? Kissing up to the boss, are we?” Delvin asked, trying but not quite succeeding in looking stern.
“Well… kissing the boss at least, Delvin,” Dag said, embarrassed and probably as red as it was possible for her to be. “Sorry about that.”
“Ha. I was talking to Brynjolf.” Brynjolf laughed again and made a face at him. Oh, Dag thought. Of course he knew what Bryn and Karliah had in mind for the future. How stupid of me.
“I’m sure you were enjoying that nearly as much as I was, Delvin,” Brynjolf snickered. “Don’t try to deny it. I know you’ve been standing there for awhile.”
Delvin smirked. “Caught. Red-handed.”
Brynjolf looked back down at Dag and smiled. “Is it really settled then?”
“It is if you say so. I mean that was rather the idea, after all.”
Delvin shook his head and blew out a deep breath. “Shadows be praised, it’s about bloody time. I was beginning to think we’d all have to be peeling your fists off each other before you two idiots sorted things out.” He winked at Dag. “I saw the gem earlier, pet, and was just hoping I knew what was afoot. Sorry to be a sneak. I just had to see for myself.”
“When have you ever not been a sneak? It’s what you’re good at, you thief. Out, Delvin,” Brynjolf said, mock-snarling. “There’s a lot of work to be done before we can make things official.”
“Yes, boss,” Delvin said, grinning. “And there’s no doubt that if it’s one kind of work you’ll be handling it,” waggling his eyebrows,” and if it’s the other I’m the one who’s going to be stuck doing it,” and headed out toward the Cistern, no doubt to gossip.
Dag snorted. “That man has a filthy mind.”
Brynjolf chuckled. “He does. But he’s probably right, isn’t he. And we did give him a bit of a show, after all.”
Dag swatted at his arm. “Good grief.” Then she looked back at him. “I know this is really out of nowhere. I figured you would laugh at me.”
“No, lass,” he replied gently, smiling. “Even if I was going to turn you down I wouldn’t have laughed at you. I’m not that cruel. At least not to people I care about.”
She nodded. “I should have known better. Listen. I could probably just have taken you over to my house and talked you into bed if that was all I wanted. At least I think I could have. Eventually.”
“You could,” he agreed with a grin. “You could have done that a long while ago. I would never have said no to that kind of offer. You don’t have to marry me for that, lass, I’ll take you up on it right now if you want.”
Dag grinned. “The ‘a long while ago’ part is a surprise. I thought you could barely tolerate me.”
Brynjolf smiled again. I could get used to this, Dag thought. He looks older when he’s angry, but he looks much younger when he smiles.
“Think about it. I didn’t know why I was doing it, but I kept you with me a lot of the time, didn’t I? It just seemed important to keep you near. I should have had you training, with the others, getting archery lessons from Niruin and all that. If I’d done that, though, Vipir would have spent all his time trying to shuck you out of your armor, and he’s better looking than me and a lot younger.” He smiled again and shook his head. “Truthfully, I thought that Thrynn already had. I don’t often misread things that badly.”
She laughed. “Is that what it was, that day, when you wouldn’t talk to me and then stared at me across the Cistern?”
“Probably,” he said. “I didn’t really know for certain why I was upset, just that I was, and that it was about more than just Mercer.”
“But, Bryn, speaking of armor, this isn’t just about me trying to get you out of yours, as much as I’m looking forward to doing that.” He grinned broadly, and she returned the look. “I … don’t know how to explain it.”
He pulled her in to his chest, arms wrapped around her and head bent to touch hers and they stood there, not speaking, for several long moments, the echo of the embrace he’d given her in Bronze Water Cave. Then he pushed back, gently, holding her shoulders, looking thoughtful. There was something that she could not fathom flickering in his eyes. Before she could ask, though, he sighed.
”You don’t really have to explain. I think I know. Listen, lass. There’s something that I really have to take care of, right now, before it’s too late.” he says. “But I want to see you. Alone. Soon. Go to your house and wait for me. I’ll be along shortly.” He kissed her once more, in a way that left no doubt how much he wanted to see her, alone.