Dardeh had been waiting to hear the pounding on the door, and was there to open the entryway to the Sanctuary. He took one look at Brynjolf’s face and then focused on Roggi’s, his eyes frantically searching for answers.
“Come in, you two,” he said quietly. “Where’s…”
Roggi shook his head. “I’ll explain in a minute. First we need to see about getting Brynjolf some food. He’s in a bit of shock. I’m surprised you couldn’t hear his stomach growling from in here.”
Dardeh tried to make eye contact with Brynjolf but found him staring blankly, looking around but not seeming to register much of anything. He didn’t even seem to notice the red-haired Imperial man wearing a jester’s outfit who was quietly studying him from an alcove nearby.
“Sure. Downstairs. Sayma’s down there, and some of the others.”
Brynjolf shook himself out of his daze long enough to look at Dardeh and nod. “Thank you,” was all he managed before heading for the stairwell.
Dardeh leaned in close to Roggi. He inclined his head toward the alcove without shifting his gaze away from Roggi. “That over there is Cicero, the one little Bryn was talking about.”
“I see. Interesting.”
Dardeh glanced over Roggi’s shoulder, toward the door. “Where’s Andante?”
“Dead.”
“What?” Dardeh hissed. “How is that even… what…”
“Go see for yourself if you want, Dar. There’s a pile of red ash out there. Brynjolf said he drew a posse of vampire hunters away from him, and us, and just stood there in the sun and let himself be taken. I don’t understand it. But Bryn is human again. Andante cured him just before this all happened.” He reached for Dardeh’s hand and squeezed it. “He’s a mess, Dar. I don’t think he realized how much Andante meant to him. We need to keep an eye on him.”
“Right. I’ll go sit with him while you tell Sayma.”
“OK. I’ll try to make it quick.”
They descended the stairs to the large main room, where Brynjolf had taken a seat at the long table and sat staring down at its surface, his hands clasped together and resting on the top. Every so often he would twist the two rings he wore, and sigh.
Sayma was standing next to the fireplace, speaking to the man she had introduced as Nazir, when Roggi approached.
“We have a problem,” he began carefully.
“What is it?”
“Andante is… gone. And Brynjolf is human again. And he’s hungry. And, uh…”
Sayma grabbed his arm and hissed. “Andante is what?”
“Gone. Dead. I don’t have all the details but I found Brynjolf sitting next to a pile of ashes out on the shore. And by the way, we need something to collect them into.”
Sayma’s mouth dropped open. She shut it again, but had nothing to say as she visibly tried to process the information he’d just presented to her.
Nazir looked as shocked as Sayma had. “He’s dead?” He shook his head. “I make it a point not to get close to people I recruit, but Andante was different. I liked him. I don’t like that many people. I’m going to miss him. Listener?”
Sayma nodded. “There’s probably an urn in the back. Go get it and see what you can do about collecting the ashes. We can find something more suitable later.”
“At once, Listener,” Nazir said and turned to leave, but then paused. “And if you’d like I’ll share the news with Babette and Cicero. You’ll undoubtedly know when I’ve succeeded with that.”
“Thanks, Nazir,” Sayma said. “I think I’d better check on Brynjolf.”
Roggi stopped her with a hand. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
Roggi examined her face for a moment while he tried to decide what to say. “I don’t even know how to begin. But… the two of them, Bryn and Andante, they were…”
“Together,” Sayma frowned. “I gathered that when Andante called him ‘loverboy’ not too long before you and Dardeh arrived. I’m not sure how to deal with that.”
“Deal with it by knowing that he is hurting, really badly. I’m worried about him.”
“Brynjolf’s a strong man, Roggi. He’s been through some bad times and pulled through without a problem.”
Roggi frowned and shook his head. His voice dropped to a quiet murmur, the one Dardeh had heard him use with the assassin in the Rift one afternoon a long time before. “Please don’t make me get angry with you. It wouldn’t end well. You didn’t see Bryn out there on the beach, crying. You didn’t see him when you left Riften. He was well on his way to being dead when Delvin came to get me. I nursed him back to health. He’s got that look on his face again, and I’m really worried about him. He’s not that good at losing people he loves.”
Sayma looked into his eyes for a long moment. “Crying? I… have a hard time picturing that. So you’re saying he really cared about Andante?”
Roggi snorted. “No. I’m saying he loved the man. They loved each other. Stranger things have happened, you know. I don’t think he truly knew how much until now, and it’s too late. After you left Riften, I kept Brynjolf from drinking himself to death but Andante is the one who brought him back to life, strange as that sounds given how everything turned out. Andante adored Bryn. Simply adored him.” He sighed. “I don’t want to see him fall apart again, Sayma. And part of that is your fault. I need you to help me hold him together. It’s the least you can do.”
Sayma dropped her eyes to the floor.
“You’re right. And I’m sorry. It’s just that he’s my…”
“No,” Roggi said, flatly. “He was your husband. Technically he still is, but you left him. You forfeited any right to judge what he’s done with his life since then, and don’t you dare forget that. Here’s the thing. I promised you I’d stand with you if you ever needed me, and I meant that. But there are a lot of things we will need to talk about at some point. The biggest issue is what you did to Brynjolf. That’s going to be hard to move past.”
“Roggi. I thought – little Bryn, I thought he might have been…”
“I know. What if he’d been my son? But he’s so clearly Brynjolf’s and it doesn’t excuse you leaving Bryn in the dark all this time since the boy was born. Or the rest of us. We all thought you were dead. You of all people should know how much that hurts.”
Sayma hung her head.
“I know. But it’s not just that, it’s…this. The Sanctuary. The Night Mother.”
“I frankly couldn’t possibly care less about that right now,” Roggi said coldly, earning himself a startled look from Sayma. “Go see about getting him food. He’s been living on – well, you know – for months now and he’s suddenly human again. He’s going to pass out if he doesn’t eat. I need to walk around a little bit. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Sayma nodded and went into the main room, stopping to speak quietly to Babette as she came slowly down the stairs. Babette looked stricken. After a few moments she nodded, and left down one of the hallways.
Roggi was making his way down another, toward the source of the moans he heard ahead of him, when a loud wail echoed through the Sanctuary.
“Andante! Andante! No, no…”
Cicero. No wonder they find him a bit of a challenge.
__
Sayma had been talking quietly to Dardeh, both of them keeping an eye on Brynjolf, who sat by the fire holding a tankard but not really drinking from it. Nazir had left carrying an old Nordic urn, and had returned a few minutes later to place it on the table. She watched Roggi return to the dining room, approach Brynjolf, and rest a hand on his shoulder.
“How are you doing, brother?”
“I’m alright. I ate a bit of bread and cheese. Thank you, lad. I know you’re worried about me, but don’t be.”
Roggi chuckled. “We’ll never break you of that, will we. I’m as much of an old man as you are, Bryn.”
“Well, I feel older today.”
Roggi looked at him. “I’m sure you do. But you look younger, Bryn. I think being a vampire did something to you.”
“Maybe. As long as it wasn’t what happened to some of those people.” He shuddered. “The transformation wasn’t pretty, for some of them.”
Sayma wandered over to them, followed by Dardeh.
“I can’t imagine. But it certainly didn’t harm Andante’s looks.”
Brynjolf glanced at her briefly and then returned his attention to his tankard. “Yes, he was nothing if not handsome. I told you. Back when I first met him. He was the one who stole the gem from Madesi and then sold it back to him.”
He sighed, and looked not at Sayma, but at Roggi. “All this time and I was with Vitus Perdeti. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
Sayma shook her head. “Andante. Vitus was a horrid man, by all accounts. Andante was a thief and an assassin but he had principles, and he was fun to be around. They were strange principles, but he had them. I and everyone else in the Brotherhood would have trusted him with our lives.”
“I didn’t know him very well,” Dardeh rumbled, “but he was always good to me. Even if he did give me a hard time about Roggi.” He smiled at his husband.
“Vitus!” came a mournful wail from atop the stairs. “Oh Vitus. Vitus Perdeti, gone, gone away for good.”
The four of them stared at each other for a moment, and then back up toward the Night Mother’s coffin, where Cicero was wringing his hands and dancing about as usual.
“Cicero!” Sayma called. “Come down here for a moment.”
“Yes, Listener, of course, Listener,” the oily voice responded, and Cicero padded down the stairs to stand in front of Sayma. “What is it, Listener?”
Sayma stared at him. “I hardly know where to begin,” she murmured. “Cicero, did you know Vitus Perdeti?”
Cicero gave her a disgusted frown. “Well of course Cicero knew Vitus Perdeti. He was in the Dark Brotherhood in Bravil when Cicero was… well… something else than the Keeper. A long, long time ago and far away.”
“Did you know that Andante was Vitus Perdeti?”
Cicero nodded enthusiastically. “Of course I did, Listener. He was a very pretty boy and Cicero always remembers very pretty boys. Of course it was a long time ago, that he was a boy. But still, Cicero remembered.”
“And you never told us?”
Cicero tossed his hands up in the air and made a disgusted noise. Then, in a tone of voice utterly different from his usual sing-songy nonsense, said “Well of course I didn’t tell you that. If a man as well-known as Vitus Perdeti was going by a name like Andante there must have been a good reason for it, don’t you think? I wouldn’t have given away something like that. Really, Listener. I’m mad, not stupid.”
His face fell, the moment of lucidity apparently having passed. “Ah! Andante. My poor, lovely Andante! Whatever will Cicero do without you?” He turned and danced his way back up the stairs to begin muttering in front of the Night Mother’s coffin as he had done since the Dark Brotherhood had moved to the Dawnstar Sanctuary.
Sayma and Roggi stared at each other in amazement.
“I would laugh, except that it’s not funny,” Sayma said. “Who would have imagined that Cicero was the only one who knew. Not even Andante did!”
Brynjolf nodded. “He didn’t. Not until very recently.”
Roggi beckoned for Sayma to follow him, and went to the far side of the room.
“Is everything under control?”
Sayma nodded. “Nazir collected… the ashes. He found a bow in the bushes nearby. Brynjolf said it’s important that it go back to someone named Serana at Castle Volkihar, but he can’t go back there himself any longer because he’s not a… vampire. So I sent Babette. She’s on her way west, right now, with the bow and a note from Bryn.” Sayma sighed, and looked down.
“It is hard. I… never would have imagined…”
Roggi tsk’d.
“You know, I never thought I’d be saying something like this to you, Sayma, but you are going to have to get over yourself and think about the others.”
Sayma’s head shot up and she glared at him. In spite of the seriousness of the situation she could feel her anger rising; and she didn’t like being angry with Roggi.
“No, I’m serious,” he told her. This isn’t about you and your remorse. Right now, this is about losing Andante. And how he was doing a good thing. For all I know it’s the only good thing he ever did. He thought he was saving Brynjolf, and you, and your child. I watched him, the night I learned he was a vampire. He knew he would be out of the picture if we found you. And he knew he had to go forward with finding you anyway, for Brynjolf. I could hear it in his voice and read it on his face. I think… he needed Brynjolf as much as Bryn needed him, and he needed Brynjolf to be happy. It kept him human, strange as that sounds. And he kept Brynjolf alive. So don’t be hard on Bryn because he spent this time being with Andante. They needed each other.”
Sayma was staring at the floor again, by the time he finished. Her arms were wrapped around herself tight and she was shaking.
“I don’t understand it, but who am I to say anything at all. I guess… I guess I hoped that once he saw Little Bryn… Damn it, that’s why I answered his query in the first place, Roggi. I think I really wanted him to find me. I wanted him to forgive me, just a little, even if we were never together again. And then I find out that he’s been living with a man who worked with me. And I find out that you are married… to my brother. Forgive me if I’m a little confused right now.”
Roggi took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “Wasn’t it you who used to say that you don’t get to choose who you love?”
She nodded, slowly. “I suppose so. If not for me, and that, we all might not be in this mess. Because, Roggi,” she looked up at him, pleading for understanding.
Roggi smiled sadly, and pulled her close into a hug.
“I know. It’s been a hard time, figuring all of it out. It’s going to be hard for some time to come. But there are some things that are too beautiful to forget,” he added, his voice dropping, “and one of those was Nilheim. I had forgotten what it was like to be alive until that day. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”
She knew Roggi meant to be comforting with that, but in the moment she felt as though he’d stabbed her in the heart. She fought to contain herself as he let her go and smiled down at her.
“I need to go be with my husband now, because if the truth be told this all has stirred up some things for me, too. We’ll talk about me and Ulfric sometime, and you’ll understand. But right now, just go be with Brynjolf. And we’ll be at the inn tonight in case you need us.”
“Wait.” She seized his arm in a steely grip. “You… and Ulfric?” Her eyes narrowed, her voice became that of the Listener; and Roggi’s expression said that he knew he had spoken out of turn once more.
Roggi sighed. “Yes. I can’t talk about it right now, not standing here down the hall from a torture chamber. It…”
He paused for a moment, as if thinking hard, and then took her hands.
“Yes I can. I can tell you some of it. Sayma, this,” he nodded toward the room where there were four moaning prisoners shackled to the wall, “this is what I did. For Ulfric. When I was in his service.”
She blinked. “You what? Roggi, you… what?”
“I was one of his interrogators. I used to, um, apply pressure to people for information. Remember I told you how I made them pay, the bandits who killed Briinda? Well I wasn’t kidding about being really good at it. I have… wait, I’ll prove it to you.” He stepped back, slung his pack down off his shoulder and reached into the bottom of it. He pulled out a small, neatly folded leather case.
Then he flipped it open.
There, each in its own specific compartment, was a set of gruesome tools. Curved knives, corkscrews, pliers, and an assortment of blades. Roggi stood, staring at it.
Sayma glanced over his shoulder at Dardeh’s horrified face. He’d seen Roggi opening his backpack and walked up behind him, silently. He was staring at the tools with an unfathomable expression. He glanced up at Sayma, his eyes pleading.
Roggi shrugged. “You know what?” he said, flipping the case shut and refastening the clasps that held it closed. Then he met her gaze and smiled.
“I don’t think I need these anymore.” His voice dropped. “Well, I know I don’t. Took a guy’s thumb off with just a knife, I know I don’t,” he mumbled.
Sayma’s mouth fell open. “His thumb? That was you? Out in the Rift?”
Roggi met her gaze, startled that he’d said anything. “Uh. You heard about that, did you? Yeah, that was me. I’m sorry. Obviously I didn’t know he was one of your guys.”
She shook her head. “He wasn’t. He was one of the old guard. But Roggi. You.”
He smiled sadly. “Yeah, me. I’m sorry. It’s a long story. I never lied to you, but I never told you all of it and that part is pretty ugly. These, though. I’ve been toting them around with me for more than ten years now. I have two little girls at home and I don’t think we need them even thinking about what their other Papa used to do with them. Here,” he said, handing the package to Sayma. “Put them in there. They’re sharper than what you have on hand, anyway. I checked them.” He grinned. “Professional curiosity.”
Sayma took the case, numbly, not knowing what to say, her head swimming as she tried to grasp what she had just heard. She looked up at Dardeh, who had put his arm around Roggi’s shoulders.
“You’re really giving them up?” he murmured.
Roggi smiled at him. “Yeah. I’m giving them up. I don’t need them anymore, Dar. That’s all done. I’m leaving him, and them, and everything he ever did to us, behind.” He chuckled. “They wouldn’t be much good against a dragon, anyway.”
They turned to leave, but Sayma reached out and grabbed Dardeh’s arm to stop him.
“Wait just a moment,” she said, not realizing that she was once again speaking as the Listener, the Guildmaster, her voice heavy with authority.
But Brynjolf heard it. His head snapped up and he stared at her, frowning, from across the room.
Dardeh raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“What did Ulfric do to you, Roggi? I need to know.”
Dardeh shook his head, and growled. “He doesn’t need to revisit this, Sayma.”
“Yes he does, lad,” came a quiet voice from the far corner of the room, from the figure who had moved to perch on the stairs to where Cicero was muttering to the Night Mother.
They all turned to look at Brynjolf.
He stood, slowly, almost painfully, and walked over to where they stood.
“We need to get all of it out in the open. All of it.”
Dardeh started to object, but Brynjolf held up his hand to stop him.
“Listen. I have a right to have you listen to me.”
Roggi and Dardeh exchanged a glance, and Roggi nodded.
“The longer we all keep secrets, the less time we have to help each other, and the more likely we are to make mistakes that we’ll all regret later. I don’t want someone else to leave without knowing the truth. And like it or not, we’re all family in this room. Right here, right now. I don’t want to end up losing another one of you like I just lost Andante.” He swallowed hard. “Or Dynjyl,” he whispered. “Or Dag,” he murmured, looking up at Sayma.
He walked over to the long table and sat down.
“I need to tell you about Dynjyl so that you’ll understand about Andante. And there are other things to get out in the open. So you’re all going to sit with me, for a bit. And we’re going to talk. And we’re going to listen. And then we’ll decide what to do next. Please.”
Roggi nodded, and moved to take a seat next to Brynjolf.
“Aye, my brother,” he said quietly.
Dardeh and Sayma looked at each other in surprise and then slowly moved to the opposite side of the table.
The others – the new members of the Brotherhood, Nazir, and even Cicero – drifted around the Sanctuary but they all kept a respectful distance from the table. And they were quiet, all except for Cicero, whose whimpers about Andante were audible but not truly understandable, drifting down from the vicinity of the Night Mother’s coffin.
And they talked.
Brynjolf stared at the table, a far-away look on his face, and told them about Dynjyl, smiling when he reached up to the scar on his face, fighting to keep his composure when he got to the part where he’d met Andante and thought he was seeing Dynjyl all over again.
“No wonder,” Roggi murmured.
Brynjolf nodded at him, then glanced at Sayma. “I don’t know why I never told Dag. I guess it didn’t seem important at the time. But I wish I had, now.”
“Dag,” Sayma said sourly. “Like she’s someone different.”
“Isn’t she?” Brynjolf replied coolly, staring at her. “Sayma has a child who is old enough to speak in sentences and walk about on his own. Sayma is the Listener. Dagnell is the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild and…” he trailed off.
She sighed. She could feel her face reddening.
“Yes.”
Roggi slowly, carefully, told them all what only Dardeh had known before. Brynjolf ground his teeth, Sayma kept wiping tears away, angrily. Dardeh muttered under his breath about wanting to kill Ulfric, and Roggi shook his head. “No, Dar. We’ve talked about this.”
“No, you don’t understand, Roggi,” he growled. “Dadarh came to me in a dream. Just before Skuldafn. Do you remember when I put away the scimitars?”
“Yeah…?”
“He wanted me to kill Ulfric. He was Dark Brotherhood. It was his final contract and he couldn’t complete it because he died. He wanted me to complete it and when I refused he told me I wasn’t worthy to be his son. He said…”
“… I will have to use the girl,” Sayma said, absently. She was staring at the table as if she was the only one in the room.
Dardeh turned to gawk at her. “Don’t tell me he’s been at you, too.”
“Of course he has, Dardeh. He’s my father.”
She sniffled.
“I remember him, so clearly. I didn’t know what he was, of course, not when I was so little at the time, but what I do remember is the two of them being so warm, him and my mother – Saban. It always felt like there was caring. At least for those few years. And then they were killed. Right in front of me.”
“Well I’m glad he cared about one of us,” Dardeh muttered.
“Dar!” Roggi said, sharply.
Sayma looked at him in surprise, and then immediately regretted her words. “I’m sorry. I forget how it was for you. I mostly grew up without him, too, but at least I had that little bit of time with him.”
Dardeh nodded, and frowned, and patted her arm. “Yeah I know. I’m sorry to have said that. I’m… bitter about it. I’m not proud of that. But it wasn’t your fault. And I had my Ma until I was a man grown.”
She nodded. “But he’s been whispering in my ear. All these years. Telling me to kill things. It was bad enough when we were chasing Mercer Frey and it only got worse after that. I think that’s why I ran away from Ulfric when I first heard him. I just had to get away. I didn’t know why. Now I do. It was Father. He wants me to kill Ulfric.”
She looked at Roggi. “But if I’d known what he did to you, I would have killed Ulfric where he sat, instead of running away.”
Dardeh laughed, a dry, humorless laugh. “I’d have helped. I came close, as it was, a couple of times. I’m afraid he doesn’t like me very much.”
Brynjolf was staring at the table. “If I had known,” he said, “I’d have ripped out his throat. And now I can’t, any more. Unless…”
Sayma’s head shot up. “Don’t even think about it, Red.”
He growled. “Don’t call me that. You haven’t the right.”
Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth as if to answer him and then shut it, looked down at the table, and nodded.
“I didn’t ask to be made human again. I could go see your friend Babette and have this resolved, have all my power back, in five minutes. And then I would happily march over to Windhelm and take care of the issue. It’s not as if I have anything else to keep me from it.”
Roggi sighed.
“Listen to all of you. You’re all ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.”
They stared at him. He stared back, his glance defiant, moving from one to the next.
“First of all, the only one of all of us who would ever have stood a chance of pulling off a murder like that was Andante, and you all know it. Dar, my love, you would have been too angry and emotional and you would have Shouted someone to bits who wasn’t Ulfric and suffered for it the rest of your life. Bryn, you’re a thief, not an assassin, no matter how good you are with your weapons. And Sayma,” he frowned, “You just aren’t as good as he was. I know this because it was my job to know things and I knew all about the ‘best of the best,’ just like Delvin did. We just didn’t know that was Andante.”
“Second, as far as you are concerned, Brynjolf. No, don’t interrupt me,” he said, holding up his hand as Brynjolf started to protest. “I won’t put up with it. Not right now. Yes you do have things to keep you from it. You have the Guild, if nothing else. They’re your family, too, and don’t try to tell me otherwise. You have us, and we are your real family, every one of us. And you have a son. That’s why Andante healed you and you know it. Can you imagine what he would think if he knew you were going to throw that away?”
Brynjolf looked away, and down, frowning.
“And third,” he said, “nobody is killing Ulfric.”
“Roggi,” Dardeh said quietly.
“No, Dar. I told you before. Nobody is killing Ulfric except me.”
Then he shocked them all by chuckling.
“And I won’t kill him. I will just make sure to parade myself around in front of him once in awhile and let him see how happy I am, in spite of everything he did to me. And he can choke on it and sit on his cold throne in his big, lonely stone castle and be miserable and alone. For the rest of his life. And he can think about how somebody else was the one who saved the sons and daughters of Skyrim and the damned Thalmor to boot. It wasn’t him. It was Dardeh.”
He looked around the table.
“We don’t need to kill him. He’s already dead. He died a long time ago.”
Then he grinned again, this time an unpleasant sort of grin. “Of course… that doesn’t mean we can’t do everything possible to keep him from ever being named High King. I suspect that among us we have enough contacts and pull to make such a thing very difficult to achieve.”
It was silent for a moment. Sayma looked around at the expressions on her family’s faces and was surprised and confused to see the frown Dardeh wore as he stared down at the table.
Then Brynjolf started laughing. “Shor’s bones, Roggi, who knew you had such an evil streak in you? That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard, lad.” He chuckled a bit more. “I can promise you that Andante would be laughing if he heard it, too.”
Roggi patted him on the back. “Oh come on, Bryn, of course you knew about my streak. So no more talk about being a vampire again, eh? We need you the way you are.”
Brynjolf nodded, and sighed. “I won’t lie, I’m going to miss it. I liked…” He cast his gaze around the table and shrugged. “I liked the power. That’s why I wanted it in the first place, just in case any of you might think Andante forced it on me. He didn’t. That’s not the easiest thing to admit but it’s true. It was so much more than what any of us have had otherwise, I promise you. You have no idea. Or maybe you do.” He licked his lips. “Odd. I would have thought I’d miss the taste of… well, never mind. Let’s just say I’m looking forward to some more real food.”
Dardeh nodded. “I can … appreciate that. I still get excited whenever I get called out to deal with a dragon because, well… that power…”
Brynjolf looked around the table. “Alright then. I wasn’t ever expecting this, any of it. I thought Andante and I would be leaving, for Volkihar, and continuing our lives as they were. I wasn’t expecting to need to take him home like that.” He pointed to the urn. “I wasn’t expecting anything from here except information. And now my life’s completely different again. I don’t know where we go from here but I know where we don’t go, and that’s good. I guess I take him home to Honeyside.” He turned to Roggi and started to speak, but his voice caught and he just shook his head. “Roggi. Thank you.”
“It’s ok, Bryn.” He smiled. “You’re family. You can bet I’m going to watch out for you if I can. I was alone when I met Dag, and you, and now I have a family again.” He smiled at Dardeh. “And that’s why I don’t need the tools any more, Dar. I should have gotten rid of them the day I married you.”
Dardeh smiled. “Roggi. I’m not that great and you know it.”
Roggi laughed. “You have your moments, Dar.” He looked at the others. “Listen, the two of us need to get over to the inn. I, uh, think you two have things to talk about that don’t involve us.”
“Thank you, lad. We’ll talk before you head back to Falkreath.”
Roggi and Dardeh rose and left the room, and it became intensely quiet in the big chamber of the Dawnstar Sanctuary.
“What about you, Brynjolf?” Sayma finally asked, tentatively. “Where will you be tonight?”
Brynjolf sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I just… can’t even think right now. There’s just too much to take in. My head hurts, and my body hurts, and I am hungry, and I can’t deal with anything else.”
It was quiet for another long moment.
“And your heart hurts.”
Brynjolf’s eyes welled up again, and he nodded.
“Well then,” she said, rising from her side of the table, “in that case you are coming to my house.”
Brynjolf stared at her.
“I don’t know, lass,” he started.
She shook her head. “You don’t have to know. I have an extra room.”
She walked around the table and held out her hand. “Come on. This has been a terrible day for all of us, but especially for you. The last thing you need is to spend the night in this place. Or alone.”
Still he hesitated.
“Listen, Brynjolf, I know we have more things to talk about than we will be able to say in half a lifetime but right now you’re hurting and I have a comfortable place where you can stay. And…” she sighed. “Your son is there, too.”
Brynjolf stared at her, for a long time.
“My son.”
Then he nodded and took her outstretched hand as he rose.
She slipped her arms around him and pulled him close, not looking at him, resting her head on his chest. He held his arms out, away from her, startled by her embrace. She ignored him and held him anyway.
“I’m sorry, Bryn,” she murmured. “I’m going to miss him, too. I really am.”
And he very slowly brought his arms down and held her, for just a moment.
“Thank you, lass,” he murmured.