Silver

"This is not my war," the Dragonborn responded coldly to the rebellion leader, "If I joined your cause, it would go against everything your followers believe they're fighting for."

Ulfric gave a hollow laugh in response. "We fight for the freedom of Skyrim. Skyrim is home to the Nords. The rest will come, but for now we focus on the Empire."

Putting her elbows on the table, leaning forward, the Dragonborn placed her chin on top of her interlaced fingers. "Ulfric, if I had a single septim for each time I heard 'Skyrim is for the Nords', I would be rolling in coin." There was no sign of playfulness in her tone as she spoke. Narrowing her eyes she continued, "Tell me, Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the Stormcloak rebellion, do you know my name and all that accompanies it?"

Again, he laughed. "Silver, the Dragonborn. Nothing else matters, unless you add Stormcloak soldier to it."

In one fluid motion, she stood from the table, looking down at him. His expression didn't change. His brows were knitted together in deep concentration, and his eyes never betraying his serious demeanor, "I do not need you to complete my army. The attack on Whiterun will commence with, or without, you. But, with you there, we are guaranteed victory."

She placed a hand on the palace doors, stopping to look over her shoulder at him before leaving the Palace of the Kings. Nearly hidden by hair, one eye shined through to focus on him as she spoke, "Then go ahead. I will be watching from the plains as you kill many more innocents."

She pressed her hand into the door as Ulfric stood abruptly from the table. The sound of solid wood hitting stone echoed in the chamber, "I believe I made it clear that you wouldn't have a choice in joining."

The hairs on her neck bristled at his threat, but her choice did not waver. She turned to face him once more, shoulders tense as she braced herself for physical combat. "Ulfric, you cannot beat me," Silver warned. A moment too late, she noticed the slight movement in his shoulders, followed by his jaw tensing.

"FUS RO DAH!"

"TIID KLO UL!"

In the small amount of time that Silver put the world on pause, she drank an invisibility potion and exited the castle. As fast as she could, she sprinted to the stables at the end of Windhelm's bridge. Pulling the reins of her collected steed, Silver directed her horse to the snowy, beaten path that would lead her to Riften. Her heart hammered from the adrenaline, and her mind raced with the rage she had withheld from him. She would not be commanded to join, she thought furiously.

The dragons were a prominent concern to all of Tamriel, and as a result, the war had reached a temporary peace treaty. Temporary. Silver's goal had been to learn as many shouts as she could from deep within the cold depths of the Nordic crypts. Before her search had started, the Greybeards had blessed her with books to teach her the language of the dovah.

Her travels brought her to every corner of Skyrim, where many regarded her as a hero, or errand-runner. As a result, they tried to bestow as many titles on her as possible in hopes of gaining her favor. Silver let them grovel at her feet, most times, begging for her to acknowledge them. Other times, she ignored them as best she could without rubbing powerful people the wrong way. The last thing she wanted to do was increase her number of enemies.

Before Windhelm disappeared over the hill, she looked back at the snowy fortress once more. Her neck strained to keep it in view, as she tried to remain steady on the horse. She had left in such a hurry, that she was riding without a saddle. The horse's hooves pounded the snow-dusted path as they raced to get as far away from the city as possible. The North was cold, but she had always enjoyed her visits to the frozen portion of Skyrim. Before turning away, she saw Windhelm's doors open to the bridge and several horses with their riders emerged from the dim glow of city lanterns.

They were coming for her.

When the treaty was signed, Ulfric and Tullius were torn away from one another, like rivaling toddlers. Six months had passed since then, and they hungered for the other's throat like starved wolves. Tullius, in an attempt to try and intimidate Ulfric, had warned Ulfric that the Dragonborn was on the Empire's side. Thus, if Ulfric attacked, he would be matched against his treacherous voice, thus he should surrender to the Empire. Ulfric, in response, had put a bounty on her capture in the holds that supported him. Eventually, he learned the truth and began trying to coax her into joining him. Ulfric tried favors, gifts, promise of land and titles, gold, a home in the Palace of the Kings, and a place by his side in battle. All that he had to offer made Silver dislike him a little bit more with each attempt. Her dislike had slowly grown into contempt.

What had brought her to Windhelm was the alchemy shop. In one of the crypts, she had found the White Phial. Nurelion had been anxiously searching for it in his dying days. She had forgotten all about Ulfric, Tullius, and their war games. After she delivered it, she visited the inn and paid for a room. Four city guards met her as she was enjoying her meal and escorted her to the palace where Ulfric expected her.

Before Tullius had roped her into the middle of the argument, Ulfric had welcomed her multiple times. He had said, "Dragonborn, you are welcome into my ranks. While you decide, you are free to come and go as you please in Windhelm. However, if you become part of the Empire, I will have you murdered where you stand."

His threat was loud and clear, she thought. What had caused the drastic change? Ulfric was not the type of man to use his wits outside of the war games that he and Tullius loved so. In conversation, he enjoyed a good banter, but otherwise, he never showed ulterior motives and his words were straightforward. It was a quality that Silver had admired in another time. As she became more involved in vanquishing dragons, her thoughts had turned away from the war. In fact, the Greybeards had done all that they could to shield her from news of the war while she learned the dragon's language.

Perhaps I will join a side… But this war does not have a place in Skyrim with dragons looming on the horizon. Each day that passes is another Alduin uses to resurrect a lackey.

Her fingers were numbing, despite her gloves, and even with her scarf, she felt her cheeks and ears losing feeling. The ride was cold and the temperature was still dropping. With a blizzard imminent, Silver didn't expect the soldiers to follow. Riding as hard as she could, she hoped to make it to Riften in less than three days.

Once in Riften, she planned to meet with Brynjolf and disappear from Skyrim for a time. Tullius and Ulfric could use the time to stop pestering her with their hopes of her joining their ranks, and she could amass more valuables to fund her new for new ingredients and armor materials. She did not worry for the safety of the holds as they were becoming more capable of defending against the dragon attacks that were becoming more common. Alduin had not shown himself since she faced him at the Throat of the World and learned Dragonrend.

Her time riding blended together despite the two rests she had taken. In her anxiousness to arrive, she had ridden her horse as she hard as she could. Poor beast, she thought with a sad smile. She gave his neck a gentle path and whispered encouragement along with promises of treats. Dropping the horse off at the stables, Silver adjusted her scarf to cover her face and hair. The Jarls and some guards knew what she looked like, but she had managed to keep a secret from most commonfolk. There was still talk of the Dragonborn being a Nord.

Riften never changed, and it made Silver heave a sigh of relief. Mjoll still complained about the thriving Thieves Guild. A few members of said guild were wandering the streets, trying to find easy pockets to slip their fingers into. Folks whispered Maven's name after they checked their surroundings two, three, or four times. Silver wasted no time in heading to the Ratways. Every second mattered in making sure Ulfric's men did not catch up with her.

Silver slipped through the grungy, squeaking doors to the underground pathways leading to the Ragged Flaggon, where many members sat sharing stories over Black-Briar mead. At a table with Delvin, Vex, and Sapphire, Brynjolf sat, listening to Delvin tell one of his old stories for the hundredth time. Each occupant, besides Delvin, took turns mocking the old man when his gaze turned away from them. Silver waited for the story to conclude before approaching the table.

"Well, if it isn't the prestigious stranger," Vex spoke smoothly with a smirk before pressing a glass bottle to her lips.

"Aye, lass. What brings you here?" Brynjolf asked as he finished the remainder in his tankard.

Silver flashed a small smile at the crowd and nodded at Brynjolf, "I have business with you. I'd like to speak in private."

Brynjolf showed no signs of hesitation or frustration at her request. He stood, exchanged a few quiet words with Delvin, and followed Silver toward the door she had come from. She leaned her back against the door to stop someone from entering as a precaution. Closing her eyes, she used a detect life spell with her left hand, making sure that there were no eavesdroppers, something Vex was famous for. When she was satisfied with the lack of presence within earshot, Silver began.

"Will you travel with me for a short time?" Always straight to the point, she was.

For a moment, he was silent, leaning against a stone pillar protruding from the wall, nearby the door. Brynjolf crossed his arms, his brows knitted together as he focused on what she was asking of him. Very rarely had she ever seen him leave Riften and they had only fought together when they were pursuing Mercer.

"I'll have to let Karliah know. You have the coin for mercenaries, and I know that you have a few who have sworn their lives to your protection, yet you're asking me to travel with you? Why are you asking me, Silver?"

She responded immediately, "We have a similar fighting style and I don't think I could find a better companion for all the sneaking I do. We'll be going into a Dwemer ruin. I would expect us to be gone for at least one month and you will return with more gold than your pockets can hold." Bribery, it always worked on a thief.

The small smile he had the moment she mentioned wealth showed her that his favor had been won. "I could always use some more coin," he reasoned.

"I'll be waiting at the stables outside of Riften tomorrow morning just as the sun is rising. We'll be heading toward Markarth." Silver turned and left him to his business before they would depart the following day.

Emerging from the Ratways, Silver walked the short distance to the apothecary, Elgrim's Elixirs. The old couple greeted her with harsh words until she dropped a large bag of coin and jewels on the countertop.

"Feel free to count and make sure it adds up. I'll buy your whole stock," Silver demanded.

Hafjorg placed the ingredients on the table while Elgrim poured the coin purse out and began counting it out. Silver left with a bag full of ingredients, and the couple didn't mention the extra coin and gems Silver had given them for the trouble of clearing them out.

This time slipping in through the secret entrance to the Thieves Guild hideout in the cemetery, Silver returned to the Cistern, where an alchemy table resided. The Bee and Barb didn't have one she could use, and the guild was what she considered home when she did visit on the odd occasion. She also had a free bed with them. Still, when she had visited Riften, she typically spent her nights at the inn. It was the first time she had seen Brynjolf in nearly a year.

At the table, she made several potions and poisons for the trip. In the Cistern, the only way time could be told was using the sunlight that filtered through the opening on the ceiling. As she worked, the sunlight faded into darkness, which then slowly turned into the bluish-pink indicating the hour or so before dawn.

Sleep didn't grace her with its presence, that evening. Instead, she had charted the map, and organized the supplies. When the light started changing, Silver left to prepare the horses for the long journey. The sky was beginning to fold in the colors of daylight when she had finished packing her horse's bags. As she closed the final buckle on the saddlebag, Brynjolf made himself known to her with his voice. He was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, looking as if he had been there all night.

"Are we ready?"

Silver flashed him a smile before mounting her steed. "If you are," she said.

In response, he mounted his horse and they started on the path toward the Reach. It would be a long journey from the Rift, but Silver expected it to take no longer than four days. It would be the perfect amount of time for them to become reacquainted, and adjust their combat styles to complement the other.

It wasn't until the sun was in the middle of the sky and they had long left Riften when Brynjolf broke the silence. "Where are we headed?"

Silver turned to look at him, their mounts gently rocking them side-to-side with their heavy steps. The horses had remained at an even pace next to one another. She looked at him, studying his profile. His stare lingered straight ahead a moment longer before meeting her gaze.

"We're going into a Dwemer ruin in the Reach. We'll be passing through Riverwood and Rorikstead for supplies." Silver looked ahead, wondering whether if it was wise to tell him the whole tale in the open. Sparingly, she had glanced through the wood since they started riding. Perhaps Ulfric and Tullius wouldn't be looking for her as aggressively as she thought, but they knew all of her places of residence. Traveling, and staying away from her homes, seemed as though it would be the safest bet to steer clear of the trouble. In addition to running away from the problem, Silver had traced a shout that may reside, deep in the pits of the ruin. It was a win-win for her.

"It's been a long time since I've left Riften." Low and soft, Brynjolf's words fell in with the gentle breeze. "Irkngthand with you and Karliah was the last time I left the Rift. Karliah wanted me to help with the guild while she tended to duties elsewhere."

"When did you see her last?" Silver wasn't surprised by the information. Since Karliah was welcomed back into the guild, she showed uneasiness when the topic of her staying in Riften was brought up. The title of Guildmaster was offered to Silver, but she had refused it. Karliah had taken ownership instead, and had brought prosperity to the guild, returning it to its former glory one day at a time. Because of her wariness to remain in Riften, Karliah always had one reason or another to venture to any of the other holds in search of more contacts for the guild. Last Silver had heard, Karliah had brought an apprentice under her wing, much like when Brynjolf had taken Silver under his.

Silver's eyes wandered into a mist of nostalgia. Although it was a short time ago, Skyrim had undergone vast changes in the short period and so had she.

"At least a year," he said softly. He was as lost in nostalgia as she was, she guessed, based on the gentle tone of his voice.

Conversation died, leaving Silver to her thoughts until they retired for the evening. Near a creek, just off of the road, the horses were loosely tied to a couple trees, and they prepared their small tents. The clouds looming over the horizon told Silver that rain was coming their way. Over the fire, they cooked three rabbits seasoned with salt and a few dried herbs that Silver carried more as ingredients than flavoring, but Brynjolf had insisted that she add them to the cuisine.

"Sure, salt will help the taste, but some of those elves ears, and garlic will make it even better. With the mead, it'll go down smoothly."

Reluctantly, she followed his suggestion. When the meat graced her tongue, she found him correct. Though, she would never let him hear those words fall from her lips. The succulent meat filled their bellies as the fire dimmed and they prepared for sleep. Silver was exhausted from her lack of slumber the previous night. Her fatigue didn't stop her from brewing a few more potions over the fading flame. When she had finished, Brynjolf's even breathing indicated he was sound asleep. She followed shortly after putting out the dying embers.

Before the sun peaked over the mountains in the East, they were well on their way. By the end of the new day, Brynjolf and Silver would be in Riverwood. There, they would be sleeping in warmth, and their clothes would have the chance to dry. The pair rode miserably in the rain, drenched the moment they had woken up. Noon came quickly and the thick, ominous clouds gave no hint of stopping the deluge.

Silver cracked a smile as a droplet tickled the bridge of her nose, dripping from the tip. The warm moisture seeping through her clothing stirred her pot of memories. Why she smiled, she wasn't sure; it wasn't particularly happy. However, it was the first time a memory surfaced since she had begun pursuing Alduin more aggressively. Her memories of Skyrim were riddled with dragons, vampires, bears, sabre cats, bandits, death, and betrayal. Most nights, she would wake in terror fits. That was until she had made an elixir that allowed her to slip into dreamless sleep. The effects of the elixir repressed most memories throughout the day. Occasionally, one might slip through, but they were easier to sweep under the rug when she was awake.

Her empty mind allowed her to focus on the day and forget the instances where she would lay awake, shaking in fear, or when the fear became so real that she would find herself living in her memories again. Gazing into the wet forest, soothingly rocking back and forth, she felt herself relax. Brynjolf's company had always given her some sense of comfort. He was skilled in battle and she could rely on him to treat her if she were wounded.

"Do you remember… when you first approached me in that marketplace?" Silver turned her head slightly toward him, just enough for one gleaming eye to see his profile hidden by his hood.

He didn't look at her as he spoke. "I remember it like it was yesterday, lass," he gave a deep chuckle, emphasizing the last word. Silver laughed at his lighthearted tone. "You looked around to make sure I was speaking with you. Even then, you just looked at me for a moment and then continued on."

She laughed again, "I was shocked that you had spoken with me. It scared me away!" The movement from her laughter allowed a few droplets to fall on her cheeks. Wiping them away, she continued, "That wasn't the time I meant! It was the tenth or so time you had approached me when I had finally responded!"

Brynjolf nodded, finally looking at her. "Aye, I had figured it would be the last time I would try approaching you in the stalls. If it hadn't worked, I already had a plan figured to find myself in your room at the Bee and Barb. There, at least you wouldn't be able to ignore me." He winked, causing her to hastily look forward to avoid his green stare.

Heat crept along her cheeks as she spoke, "I'm glad it didn't have to go that far. I'm not sure what you saw in me to make you tail me so aggressively." A wave of anxiety pooled in her stomach as she was reminded of Ulfric and Tullius.

"Silver," he said softly and she turned to look at him in response. His tone was kind and deep until he continued. "The Dragonborn, named Thane of Whiterun, Falkreath, Solitude, Morthal, Winterhold, and Markarth, expert alchemist, and marksman. Most of all, she is a valuable member of the Thieves Guild." Mockingly, he had listed most of her formal titles.

The heat returned to her face as she looked forward, pouting. While her name was well-known, her appearance wasn't as widely recognized. Her name had spread quickly, but few remembered distinguishable features of hers, thus making it easy for her to drift from one hold to another without much notice. His taunting didn't make her upset, but it reminded her that she had made the mistake of allowing herself to gain a name that was widely recognized.

"Brynjolf," she began with a huff, "Second in command in the Thieves Guild, sarcastic red-headed Nord, expert wordsmith, who coats word in honey that fall on ears as pleasantly as a sweetroll does the tongue, commendable lockpick, and as successful with his flirtatious attempts as a three-year-old child."

He gave a "tsk" sound. "Ouch, lass, that hurts!"

Frowning, she remembered a question that had surfaced in her mind several times. She had asked once, but his answer had been vague. Silver wondered if he would divulge more information about himself on this trip. "Brynjolf, why are you not Guildmaster? You have more experience and you're more than capable."

"I've told you before that I'm just not leader material. I enjoy the Guild and I will never abandon it, but I don't wish to lead it."

He wouldn't budge, she concluded with a frown. "How is Karliah doing as Guildmaster?"

"That lass… She's doing the best she can, being away from Riften. Profits have increased tenfold and the few new recruits we've had come to us were shown what their lives could be like if they followed the rules. We're in a good place thanks to her and you. You may have refused the position, but you're just as responsible for the improvement, Silver."

Brynjolf's genuine compliment made her thankful for her dark, Dunmer skin. If he had taken a glimpse at her cheeks, they would be a darker shade than the rest of her face. "Thank you," she responded softly, nearly muted by the sound of hooves slapping against the muddy trail.

The ride continued in silence until they arrived in Riverwood. With their horses safe and drying in the town's stables, the pair turned to the inn. The warm fire that greeted the weary travelers gave them just enough life to keep from going straight to bed. There, she rented two rooms at the Sleeping Giant. Delphine, the previous owner, had moved into the Sky Haven Temple with Esbern months ago, and due to her connection with Delphine, she was told that Brynjolf and her could use the two rooms free of charge by the innkeeper.

Upon arrival they brought their wet belongings to the fire. Brynjolf had practically run into his room to change into spare pants and simple long-sleeved shirt. She remained in her mostly dry armor, leaving her cloak and backpack by the warmth. The large fire pit had a small stone wall encompassing it, and half of it was occupied by wet clothing dripping into the embers closest to the wall.

Aching from the long ride, they took a seat at one of tables with their backs to the fire. They shared a meal and began drinking to warm their bodies that had been chilled to the bone from the cold rain. They had the inn to themselves, aside the innkeeper, and were grateful for it. The emptiness allowed them to feel as though they could talk freely. Halfway through the meal, Brynjolf began retelling stories of the guild from a time before Silver had joined. He had also begun telling stories of the new recruits, a female in particular.

"If you could see the lass, it'd be like looking into a Bosmer reflection! Her personality is the complete opposite, though. She's sarcastic and she always beats me to the punch."

Silver couldn't stop the uncomfortable feeling rising in her heart. She was jealous and envious of this new recruit, but she dared not show the petty emotion. "Sounds like you've met the one truly destined to be your apprentice, Brynjolf." Her words were accompanied with a hearty laugh to hide the simmering anger. "Have you done any jobs with her?"

"Oh yes," he responded too quickly. "We ventured toward Windhelm, on the border of the Rift, with Karliah and walked away with a large haul of cargo that never made it to Winterhold. It went off without a hitch!"

Silver swallowed her nagging feelings with a large gulp of Nord mead before she responded. The warmth that came with the drink was welcomed as it numbed the ache stemming from deep within her core. "I'm glad that you've met a true companion for your work. I do miss being a thief, but I can't be who I need to be as a thief."

"Nonsense!"

Silver laughed again, "Nocturnal still blesses me, and I do practice stealth when entering unknown territory, but after perfecting my alchemy skills, I had no need for the extra coin through dishonest means."

Brynjolf nodded and leaned back slightly, "Aye, lass. No need to make dishonest coin and fret the law after you've become it. More for the guild" He smirked at her, raising his tankard to her. Their cups clinked together merrily. The conversation returned to the new apprentice he had taken in. Silver couldn't look past the mischievous glint in his eye as he spoke of the underling. At one point, maybe he had spoken about her the same way. Now, she wondered if he thought of her at all when she had left. When he was finished bragging about his apprentice, Silver seized the moment to retreat from the conversation.

"I'm going to bed. Good night, Brynjolf," Silver said quickly with a smile. Her smile was meant to hide the small discomfort she felt as she retired to one of the rented bedrooms.

Silver removed the armor she had slaved days over, crafted using dragon scales and bone. It was enchanted to enhance her archery, alchemy abilities, and her sneaking along with some magic resistance. It had stayed mostly dry beneath the other layers which the rain had soaked through. For that, she was grateful. Rarely, did she ever remove her armor. It was only when she was sure of her safety. The inn, the Sleeping Giant in particular, was safe in her mind.

Left in only her tunic, she reached into her bag and grabbed one of her sleeping elixirs. When the liquid graced her throat, she swallowed half of the bottle's contents and replaced the cork. The initial taste had always thrown her off, but the aftertaste was that of sweet honey, and a bitter bite that accompanied the ice wraith teeth. Familiar warmth swept through her core much like the mead had done moments ago. The only difference was that the elixir's effect would not wear off for hours. Tucking herself in, her mind wandered as she drifted between reality and darkness.

The two traveling companions were not oblivious to the attraction they held for one another. Brynjolf had made that clear when she was first leaving the guild. He had not propositioned her, and she always discouraged any interest he blatantly showed her. Her fate was bound to dragons, not people. In the end, she had told him that there was no room in her heart for love while the world wiggled and thrashed in turmoil that only she could stop. A pang of guilt hit her. She had refused him. She had no right to feel guilty over his gloating of the new apprentice.

Silver wondered if his Bosmer apprentice returned his flirtatious advances, like she once had. The recollections were stifled by her elixir, which she was thankful for. Such wistful thoughts would only distract her. Perhaps, she should have chosen another to accompany her, but she felt that there was no person she could feel more comfortable with during her journey. After all, most of those who had sworn loyalty to her were dead, waiting to be forgotten through the elixir's powerful effect.

A/N: Hey there! If you decide that you would like to stick around for the story, I just want to warn those interested, that this is meant to be a violent, tragic, and (will probably be) incredibly graphic with both gore and things of the naughty sort. At the same time, it is supposed to be "fluffy". Meaning that this story is pretty much a DragonbornxBrynjolf awkward, romantic, humorous, dangerous adventure that can certainly (and will) come off as sort of cliche. I couldn't find a story that quite clicked with me, so I'm making one that I'll probably come back and read. If you decide to stick around, cool, great, feel free to review/PM me your opinion. I always love a chance to improve. The lore may seem kinda funky in the beginning, but bear with me, there is a plan.