Brynjolf knocked on her door the next day, then opened it and stuck his head in.
“Is it safe to come in, lass?”
Dag nodded. “Why are you knocking? It’s your house too.”
She was sitting in a chair near the fireplace and couldn’t bring herself to go to him. She’d been both longing for and dreading his arrival ever since Roggi had left.
“No, not really. Not yet.”
He pulled a chair from the table and turned it around, straddling it so that he could lean on its back and look at her. “So he came to see you.”
She looked at him and nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.
“And … you were with him all day.”
She snorted. “You know that already. You have eyes everywhere in this place.”
Brynjolf heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s my job to know things, isn’t it. It really doesn’t matter. Yes, I know you were with him all day and yes, I know you weren’t in the house with him long enough for anything to have happened. All right? So then. Down to it. Should I head back to the Cistern and leave you to him?”
Dag reached for his hands. “No. Try to leave and I will beat you up, Brynjolf. I’m not kidding.” She looked at him for a long moment, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Bryn, why did you bring him here? Why did you go to find him?”
“That. Well I’m not really proud of myself,” he said, looking regretful. Odd that he would use that particular phrase. Nobody in this whole mess was proud of themselves. “After you came back from Honningbrew and said you’d had a friend along I was afraid he was a threat to the Guild. While you were off on the Solitude job I went up to meet him, to find out whether I needed to have Delvin make some… arrangements.”
Dag gulped. “You were going to have him killed?” Her mind flew back to that moment when she’d imagined him creeping up behind Roggi, knife drawn.
He nodded. “Only if we had to. I just didn’t know. I needed to see for myself.”
“But how did you know who to look for?”
He looked surprised.
“You really don’t remember?”
“Remember what, Bryn?”
“Lass, you told me who it was. That night you came back from Whiterun. I was putting you to bed and you called for him.”
So I wasn’t imagining that, Dag thought.
“I’m… so sorry,” she said. “It was the night he left me. When he figured out that I was in the Guild. That whole night was a disaster.”
“No need to be sorry. All I knew at the time was that I needed the Guild to be safe. I didn’t realize that it mattered – to me.”
“Did it matter?”
He nodded. “Yes it did, lass. I was bothered by it and didn’t know why. Then I met Roggi and he was not a threat at all, just a decent man. I like him a lot; he’s a good time. After I mentioned you, all he could do was talk about you. On and on and ON,” he added, grinning.
Then he got serious again, looking down at the floor, speaking slowly. “Listen, I can’t have you marrying me if your heart is really with him. It wouldn’t be right. What we’ve had the past little while has been wonderful, and I could be content with that if I have to. Not happy, but content. I’ve been on my own for a long time, after all, and I could manage it again. I had to know. You had to know. It’s obvious that the lad loves you dearly. And I think you love him too. Nobody just calls out someone’s name like that unless they do. So… I made arrangements. To give you a chance to change your mind, if you need to.”
Dag looked at him, his red hair falling across his face, his beautiful green eyes looking a million miles away, and very sad. It was all so very complicated. She leaned forward and brushed his hair back with her hand. “Brynjolf,” she said. “Look at me.”
He did.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, then looked down again.
“I needed the chance to make things right with him, and I did. You can’t even imagine how much that meant. And… I do love Roggi, in my own way. But Bryn,” and she touched his rough beard, lifting his face so that he had to make eye contact again, “You’re the one I want, and need. He knows that, and so do I.”
“Are you sure, lass? Do you love me enough to make things permanent?”
“Yes. Don’t you know that?” Brynjolf, she thought, what happened to you to make you think nobody could love you? Why do you believe it never works out? “I ran all the way here from Falkreath just to buy a silly amulet because I want you.”
“Shall we go see Maramal, then?”
“Yes, we should.”
He rose from the chair and took her hand. Dag brought that hand up to touch his face, and then leaned in to kiss him. The thrill that ran through her, right to her core, told her this was the right decision.
“Let’s go,” she said, and led him toward the door.
———–
Dag dragged herself to the Temple early the next morning. She and Brynjolf had made a joyful night of it, but a late one, and dawn came early. She’d gotten up extra early to shoo him out of the house so that she could dress in something other than her Guild armor, to at least try to look a little bit special for him. It wasn’t much, just a plain green dress, but it did make her look like a woman more than a mercenary.
To her surprise, there were a number of guests there; she hadn’t really been expecting anyone. Most of the Guild was there, with the exception of one or two of the newest members who had been left behind to guard the place. She was shocked, though, to see Maven Black-Briar, with Maul at her side glowering at everyone else. Grelka was there, and Wujeeta, Balimund, and even Madesi. And Roggi, seated at the back of the room by himself.
She went to Roggi and gave him a hug. He glanced across the room at Brynjolf, who was standing in a corner in conversation with Delvin, and his eyes flickered in recognition.
“That’s the guy I met, all right. That’s him?” Dag could only nod; her voice failed her.
Roggi studied Brynjolf for a moment, then sighed and looked back at Dag. In a voice pitched so that only she could hear, he said, “Men aren’t good, or bad. They are just men.”
Dag struggled, but in spite of herself several fat tears plopped down the sides of her face. Roggi reached up and wiped them away, his eyes glistening as well. “Now don’t be crying on your wedding day.”
“Thank you, Roggi,” Dag whispered to him. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Roggi looked across the room again to find Brynjolf watching, and the two of them locked eyes. Roggi’s were intense, dark, and serious, as though he had removed a mask and was revealing the full measure of himself. This is the man I saw lift a bandit off the ground with his sword, Dag thought. This is the man who fought in the Stormcloak army, and lost a wife, and fell apart into a bottle of mead, but who was still strong enough to fight beside me when I needed him. His eyes said “be there, Brynjolf, or else I will be.” Not a request, but a statement.
Brynjolf’s expression never changed, but his eyes said “I understand.” After a heartbeat he nodded. It was a long conversation that happened in a moment. Then, to Dag’s astonishment, the two men smiled at each other across the room, like friends.
Brother Maramal walked to the front of the temple. “Ah, here’s the blushing bride now! Let’s begin the ceremony.”
“I guess I’d better go up there now, huh,” she whispered to Roggi.
He laughed. “I think so,” he said. “Good luck.”
Dag approached the altar, and Brynjolf met her. He stood to her right, smiling at her as he had rarely done.
“I don’t blush, Maramal,” she said quietly.
Brynjolf’s mouth twitched up at the corners. “Yes you do. Bright and red. Just like an apple.”
Dag wanted to smack him. Instead, she just glared at him.
Maramal smiled and continued.
“It was Mara that first gave birth to all creation, and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we first learned to love one another. It is from this love that we learn that life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today, under Mara’s loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life, and in the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship.”
He looked at Brynjolf. “Do you agree to be bound together in love, now and forever?”
Brynjolf smiled at her, that little quirk of a smile, as though there was never any doubt about the answer once they finally figured out what the question had been. “Aye.”
Maramal turned to Dagnell. “Do you agree to be bound together in love, now and forever?”
Dag looked into those sparkling green eyes and smiled.
“I do. Now and forever.” Even when we both walk together in the Evergloam, Brynjolf.
Brother Maramal turned to the gathering, his voice joyful and strong.
“Under the authority of Mara, divine of love, I declare this couple to be wed. I present the two of you with these matching rings, blessed by Mara’s divine grace. May they protect each of you in your new life together.”
Dag held Brynjolf’s hands, leaned in close to him, and whispered “eyes open.”
He smiled at her and answered, softly, “and walk true with the shadows.”
Dag caught her breath, remembering Gallus’ final, lingering glance at Karliah. That means so much more than you know, Brynjolf. Thank you.
And they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.
______
The next morning, Dag woke to the sounds of movement in the rooms above and a fine, deep voice humming a tune. She had heard it around the inns before: “The Dragonborn Comes.” She listened for a few moments, impressed; it wasn’t the lilting, heroic version she’d heard in the inns but slower, darker somehow.
I wonder what he’ll think when he finds out Roggi and I met the guy from the song, she thought. My life has been so strange since I came here.
Upstairs, the oven was glowing red. Brynjolf was wearing a loose green robe, looking positively domestic.
“A man who cooks! I’m going to be so spoiled.”
He laughed.
“I didn’t know you could actually sing. I thought you were joking.”
He looked up and smiled at her, pulling a warm pastry out of the oven. “Bah. I don’t sing. I hum.”
“Well you should. That was nice.”
“It’s hard to sneak up on your mark if they can hear you coming a league away.”
She laughed and sat down at the table. “You do realize I’ve never seen you do such a thing as sneak up on a mark, right? A Falmer doesn’t exactly count.”
“Pffft,” he snorted. “And that is just exactly the point, isn’t it. You’re not supposed to see me do it. Here. Eat up, it’s fresh. And we need to get going to the Cistern.”
“Oh that.” She grimaced.
“Yes, lass, that. I don’t intend to keep this job of mine for a moment longer than I have to, and that’s where you come in. You’ve got work to do.”
She sighed. “Yes, boss.”
“Stop that.”
“You look better in that armor than I will, if it ever comes to that,” she said.
“It will.”
“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”
“Of course I am. I’m always right.”
“And you are insufferable.”
He turned to smile at her, a big, brilliant, evil smile. “Aye, lass. And you are stuck with me.”
They ate, dressed, and headed to the Guild. Dag stopped to double check with Delvin and get details on the special job he wanted her to handle, the job that had been postponed for the better part of a week because of the wedding. Torsten Cruel-Sea, one of Windhelm’s more affluent citizens, wanted his deceased daughter’s locket back, and it was going to be a tricky job because it involved snuffing out an upstart group of thieves. Delvin had known about the situation for a while, but hadn’t felt confident about sending anyone else.
“I’ll take care of it, Delvin, I guess I’d better be able to handle such a thing, huh. Keep Brynjolf honest while I’m gone,” she grinned.
“You want me to keep the head of the Thieves Guild honest,” he said. “Sure, pet. I’ll do my best.”
She laughed, and looked around for her husband, to say goodbye. He was prowling about the Cistern, checking in on everyone, just as though he’d never left it.
He was wearing his Guildmaster’s armor, of course, but he’d also put on the hood. Dag sighed, walked up to him, and tugged on his arm.
“Why in the world are you wearing that right now? You’re indoors. In the dark, even.”
He shrugged. “It seemed the thing to do at the time.”
“Well I don’t like it. I can’t see your eyes. Take it off.”
“No.”
There was one thing Dagnell had been itching to do ever since she met this man, and she did it at this moment: she curled her hand into a fist and belted Brynjolf in the chin as hard as she possibly could. The hood flew off.
Brynjolf stared at her in astonishment, rubbing his jaw. Then he threw back his head and laughed, his great hearty rumble of a laugh.
“I like that,” he grinned. “Now go out and make us some coin, lass.”
Then he grabbed her and kissed her, long and hard, right there in the center of the Cistern.
“I love you, lass,” he whispered to her.
She smiled up at him. “And I love you, Red.”
He tried to swat her on the rump but missed as she skittered away from him.
And Dagnell walked out, waving, to head to Windhelm, to catch a thief.
