Silver & Ulfric

Weighed down by the rain, Silver's shoulders ached from the heaviness of Ulfric's cloak as they walked toward Riften. The trail was rough on Silver's bare feet, but she didn't dare break the welcomed silence. The bitter night air chilled her skin, causing her to shiver. There was an emotional emptiness that made her want to wail, and cry toward the sky in frustration. Instead, she focused on the soft sound of droplets hitting leaves a stone. The musty smell of rain and wet wood clouded her senses, making her feel more at ease, despite the ache and pain of her feet and bones.

Looking up from the stony path, Riften was slightly aglow with candlelight in the dark evening. The stone and wood surrounding the city was darkened by the rain, making the warm light appear to be beckoning them from the dark trail. "We'll take the sewers," Silver said softly. She didn't wait for his response as she staggered along, anxious for her feet to step on the soft dirt surrounding the lake shore rather than rocks.

The light rain would prove to be a decent cover for her clumsy noises, and the dark was a perfect cover for getting into the sewer, she reassured herself as they walked off the trail. Despite the chill, Lake Honrich still held some warmth from the summer and autumn months. Slowly and carefully, they waded through the waist-deep water and crawled into the large sewer pipe protruding from Riften's stone wall.

The stench of sewage and rotting food made Ulfric cough as they traversed the pipe. The closer they were to the sewers, the stronger the smell became. Silver remembered the first time she had smelled it too. Her reaction was similar, she recalled with a small smile. The sewer pipe opened into the Ratway below the city, and if they wanted to avoid contact with the guards and other folk, it was their best point of entry.

"Hold on," Ulfric stopped her as he entered the Ratway closely behind her. "I told the thief I would bring you to him," he coughed as he straightened, and his face became a permanent scowl from the stench. Ulfric couldn't read her expression. Her brows were tight as if she were concentrating. Then, her face relaxed, and her lips fell into a tired frown. He could almost feel her wariness, and his eyes stung from exhaustion as it caught up with him.

"Silver!"

Her eyes widened as she turned toward the sound of her echoing name in the sewer tunnels. Her heart hammered from the sudden sound, and her position reflexively moved into one poised for defense. Ulfric took a step away from her, alarmed more by her swift position adjustment than someone calling out her name. He had expected some sort of welcoming or patrol when they arrived, but she did not.

After a moment, her senses cleared and her heart slowed. Blinking away blurred vision, Silver saw Niruin jogging toward her. Hiw voice had seemed foreign, she thought as her body felt heavier than it had only moments ago. Her shoulders relaxed and she began to transition into a normal posture when she winced and fell to one knee. The cloak weighed her down, adding more strain to her weakened muscles. Hours ago, she had felt the tension in her muscles as the sickness had started, and it had caught up to her. Even thinking of moving was a struggle as she closed her eyes.

Ulfric kneeled beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Can you walk?" He had watched her wince and sway every other step during their walk to Riften and it had taken every ounce of his willpower not to offer a break. Every time he had looked at her, she had the same focused expression.

Her lips were in a flat line, trembling from the strain. She had made it this far, and her body was weak and tired. Her muscles were sore from transitioning between a dragon and human. Whether it was due to her damp clothing or the chill of the sewers, she started shivering. "I cannot," she responded in a whisper. Her eyes dqueezed shut as she tried to concentrate and stand up.

A tickling sensation gnawed at her temples as sweat dripped from her hairline. It was a fever, she concluded, shuddering under the damp cloak. Her breathing gradually became more rapid. Slowly, she lowered herself into a fetal position on the ground. The voices of Ulfric and Niruin blended into incomprehensible gibberish as she lost consciousness.

The cold slowly faded, and warmth consumed her encumbered body. She relaxed and embraced the dream she felt coming on.

"My, my, you've been busy," the priest said softly.

Silver felt groggy and heavy as she basked in the warm sunshine. She was lying on white silk sheets that caressed her skin, causing her to sigh as she basked in the comfort. An unfamiliar warmth touched the top of her head gently. It moved back and forth slowly, and she nudged her head into it. He was rubbing her head softly from where he sat beside her. His hand moved down, combing his fingers through her hair, all the way to the ends. It made her feel like a child, being comforted by a parent.

"Paarthurnax didn't have an answer," the priest said thoughtfully.

"No," Silver replied. Her eyes slowly opened, squinting from the whiteness of the sheets. They were on a bed in the middle of a field filled with lush green grass, under a deep blue sky. A warm breeze caressed her exposed skin as she lay in her tunic. She folded her hands neatly over her stomach, relaxing. "You're just like Ulfric," Silver sighed.

He stopped combing her hair with his fingers. "You compare me with that brute?"

"You gave me a hope to get through this, but there is no way out. Even Paarthurnax had no knowledge of the Word. To you, I am a possession. An item that shows off your pride and accomplishments to your equals and underlings."

Closing her eyes, she wondered why she would want to leave this warm paradise. It was the priest's voice, but she knew the shape of Brynjolf's hand on her head. It was his hand stroking her hair and comforting her. Despite the animosity she held toward the priest, she was calm. It was soothing, and even if she spoke with him for an eternity, she decided that she wouldn't mind if it meant she could stay with Brynjolf.

The Dragon Priest chuckled, "Oh, Dovahkiin." The warmth began to fade. "It is just slightly more complex than that. I look forward to your next visit. Perhaps it will be when you stay."

"I'm not leaving yet," she yawned. The movement stopped for a moment, but then continued.

The gentle breeze and warmth from the hand made her feel content. With a pleasant smile on her lips, she decided to enjoy this dream to the fullest. It was the first time she put up a fight in waking up. This was not the place she had responsibilities and she was free to enjoy Brynjolf's company.

With a soft sigh, Silver pushed against her will to stay. "I will defeat Alduin," she whispered, earning a chuckled from the Dragon Priest. She looked up at Brynjolf, forgetting that it was the priest in dsiguise and smiled, "I will come back to you."

Brynjolf

Larehil and Brynjolf had returned to the guild as quickly as their feet could take them. When they arrived, Brynjolf stormed into the Cistern and ordered all contact that the guards had with Tullius be severed. His legs and torso ached from his rushing blood and sprinting. He hadn't run like that since he was a teen, scrambling to flee from the wrath of a merchant.

"I don't think there was a need to bring the rest of the guild into this," Larehil reasoned as the thieves disbursed, agitation clear in her tone.

"If Tullius finds out about Ulfric and Silver, then it will place a larger target on Silver's back. She is a valuable asset to the guild," Brynjolf angrily explained to Larehil. She was following him as he headed to the Ragged Flagon.

"Why would it matter? She's not even part of the guild," Larehil argued. "She can take care of herself. She hadn't wanted the guild's help in gods only know how long. Then here she comes, needing help as if she's an old friend. So why-"

"Enough!" Brynjolf shouted as he stood, ready to walk through the wardrobe. "Don't question me on this matter, lass."

He walked through the wardrobe, not paying her anymore mind. He had enough of a headache. "Delvin," he yelled as he rounded the corner to the bar. Delvin, Vekel, and Vex, were the only thieves left once the others were sent on their task.

"Yes, Bryn?" Delvin's calm demeanor struck a nerve in Brynjolf.

"Stop being so damn calm and take care of spreading rumors about the dragon. Make sure there's several different descriptions of the dragon floating around to cause confusion."

Delvin knew better than to offer a joke with Brynjolf in a sour mood. He departed without a word, leaving Vex and Vekel.

"You two will stay here and keep an eye on things while I start a patrol around the Ratways. Silver will likely return to Riften through the sewers."

Vex and Vekel nodded as Brynjolf headed for the entrance to the Ratways. He stopped at the door and turned to see Larehil behind him.

"Stop following me," he growled.

"You didn't give me something to do," she growled.

"You're going to prepare the medical supplies for when Silver gets back," he snapped.

He opened the door and slammed it closed before she could protest or follow. His hand rested on the knob briefly, and he prayed that Larehil would do as he demanded. She had a point in saying that Silver was no longer a member, but in terms of business, she was still a valuable client. His mind quieted as it dawned on him that his connection with her was not considered business-like in any fashion.

There was no use in trying to tie it to business, he thought as he scoffed at the realization. Brynjolf cared for Silver, and he wanted her to return safely more than anything else. He assumed others in the guild would feel the same way if they truly appreciated her efforts in defeating Mercer. However, there would be no excuse great enough to excuse his trying to think for the rest of the guild. For a brief moment, he felt shameful of his actions. Silver had been part of the guild at one point, but she no longer was, and he needed to address where his priorities were between her and the guild.

Hours had passed in the blink of an eye as he had walked every path he knew of that connected with the outside of Riften's walls. At one point, Niruin and Rune had bumped into him, and they had created a patrol pattern. Dread steeped into his worry until Niruin's call for him brought a familiar hope to his aching bones. As fast as he could, he ran to where the voice came from, a feat only achievable by those who lived in the Ratways long enough to call them home. When he rounded a corner, he saw a mop of silver hair on the floor with Ulfric, and Niruin kneeling beside her.

Niruin's hand was on her cheek, and he looked up at Brynjolf with an eerie calm. "She has a high fever. We need to get her back to the Cistern."

"Niruin, run ahead and warn them. Ulfric and I will carry her there."

Niruin stood and left the two to take care of Silver, as Brynjolf has instructed. Thief thief and rebellion leader shared a glance before focusing on her. Brynjolf kneeled where Niruin had been and placed a hand on her shoulder, quickly removing it when he felt the dampness of the cloak. The cold water on his palm sent a shiver down his spine.

"How long were you in the rain?"

"We waited until the cover of night before heading for Riften. No more than a few hours," Ulfric explained quietly. He placed a hand on her forehead, and Silver shuddered away from it with a sigh.

He thought about removing the cloak, but she would be in a warm bed soon enough. "Help me carry her," Brynjolf insisted as he began moving her onto her back.

Ulfric and Brynjolf supported her, one on either side, her arms draped over their necks as her head lulled forward, hair swaying as they walked. It was in a hall with a door leading to the Cistern where Brynjolf finally set his pride aside to articulate his thoughts.

"Thank you, Ulfric, for returning her to the guild." He kept his eyes focused on the door, occasionally glancing at Silver.

"I'm a man of my word," Ulfric responded softly.

"I assume you'll be staying until she's well?"

"Yes. She plans to pursue Alduin, and then I will finish this war."

Brynjolf pushed the door open as soon as they reached it. Niruin was anxiously waiting for them, eager to retrieve Silver, "Give her to me," he urged. Brynjolf, more willingly than Ulfric, had relinquished control to Niruin. He brought her to his room, the only one that could be closed off from the rest of the Cistern, and left. Larehil entered shortly after Niruin and slammed the door behind her.

Brynjolf grimaced. He had preferred Vex, Tonilia, or Sapphire to look after Silver, but they were busy with other tasks. He looked to Ulfric, who was staring at the door with a hard stare. "You can stay with the guild until she's well," Brynjolf offered, despite the anger simmering beneath his skin.

"Thank you," he responded simply as Rune approached them.

"All of the outgoing communication was stopped, but one had gone through this morning," Rune explained.

Ulfric looked to Brynjolf, his furrowed brow demanding answers. "Perfect. Let's try to keep those letters from reaching Tullius until later this week. Then, for 3 weeks after, I want our best thieves checking letters and removing any hint of the guild and Silver."

Rune nodded and jogged toward the Ragged Flagon entrance. Brynjolf placed a hand on his hip as a smile curled the corners of his lips. The guild had come a long way since Silver had left and it made him proud.

"It appears that I will be indebted to you," Ulfric mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"No," Brynjolf returned Ulfric's harsh gaze as he spoke. "You are indebted to Silver. If not for her condition, I would have slit your throat the moment I saw you."

Ulfric smirked. "You think that I wouldn't be able to kill you first?"

The thief crossed his arms. "I won't be baited into a cock fight. While you stay with the thieves, you will respect the guild and any rules we present to you. The first rule being you are not allowed to see Silver without someone accompanying you." It took everything he had to refrain from returning Ulfric's cocky smirk. Ulfric was in his territory, and Brynjolf could change the rules of the game as quickly as flipping a coin. Ulfric had no pull in the sewers of Riften.

Ulfric's smirk faded, and was replaced with a more neutral expression.

Brynjolf continued as he turned away, "Sapphire will retrieve any belongings from the inn and pay your fee. You'll be staying with the rookies, here in the Cistern. I suggest you make yourself comfortable and try not to make any more enemies. You'll be here a few days."

He walked away, not caring to hear a response from the rebellion leader. Brynjolf walked along the Cistern's edge and leaned against the wall beside the door to his room, where Silver lay. With his arms crossed, he looked to the entrance of the Ragged Flagon and saw Ulfric disappear behind the door. Just like a Nord, Brynjolf thought, Ulfric would be off to drown his misgivings and anger in mead.

The soft click of his door was almost drowned in the sound of the Cistern's running water. Larehil emerged, holding a bucket half-filled with water. She looked over her shoulder and her sharp eyes locked with Brynjolf's.

"She's fine." She moved the bucket to rest on her hip as she turned to face him and closed the door. "Her fever subsided as soon as I took the cloak off. Her breathing is very shallow though," she brought her free hand to her eyes and rubbed them.

"Then, I'll see for myself." Brynjolf pushed himself off of the wall and put a hand on the door knob, unable to open it until she moved. Larehil hesitantly took a step to the side. He shared one more glance with her before closing the door and looking at the woman in his bed. Niruin was hovering over her, checking her temperature with the back of his hand once more before looking at Brynjolf.

"If you asked me how she was doing the moment you brought her to the cistern, I would have told that I didn't expect her to make it through the night. But here she is, as if nothing happened within minutes."

"Thank you, Niruin," he said quietly. "I'm glad she'll pull through and that she had you to take care of her."

Niruin smiled for a moment before his lips curled into a deep frown. "There is something terribly wrong with her though. It seems as if her body is attacking itself. One moment she's doing fine, and the next she is teetering on the edge of death."

"What can we do for her?"

"Nothing," Niruin sighed and looked at the Dragonborn. He put a hand on Brynjolf's shoulder, "I just thought you should know. She is fine now, and that is what matters."

"Thank you once again. I'll take it from here."

The Bosmer chuckled, "Of course you will. I'll leave you to it."

Brynjolf sat on his desk chair, which was pulled up to the side of the bed. One of her hands was free from the blankets and he took it in his hand. It was warm. Lacing his fingers through hers, he leaned forward and brought the top of her hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss on it. His elbows rested on his knees as he felt the callouses on her fingers. The faint smell of lavender and mint lingered on her fingertips from dabbling in alchemy. It was a smell that made his lungs feel refreshed. For the first time in ages, Brynjolf felt relief. He was happy to have Silver home, even if she didn't see it as one.

"I missed you," he sighed. Gently, he put her hand down and switched his gaze to her damp hair. It looked like a polished steel bar in the candlelight. He remained that way for what felt like hours, taking turns praying to each of the Divines and occasionally Nocturnal.

"Brynjolf..."

Her soft voice startled him. "Yes?" When their eyes met, he was more surprised to see her smile. It was a peaceful expression that he had never seen her wear.

"You're so cruel," Silver's voice cracked, and with it, Brynjolf felt his heart break. She was in a terrible state.

"Hey now," he responded gently with a smile. He leaned over her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as he playfully asked, "What did I do to deserve that?"

Silver snickered. He moved away slightly and they locked eyes. Startled, he fell back into his chair, "Your eyes."

Her smile faded quickly and she slowly sat up, innocently questioning his statement, "My eyes?" She stared at him, and his stomach tightened.

"They weren't... normal," he hesitated. The abnormal color he saw faded from them and was taken over by the piercing silver. For a moment, he had seen bright, purple eyes that sent a chill down his spine. They stared at each other as her brows furrowed. He was dumbfounded by the change, until something clicked.

It wasn't that Nocturnal had abandoned her. It was because Nocturnal no longer had a hold on Silver's soul. When Ulfric used the Shout on her, something happened on a level that Brynjolf would never be able to comprehend. It was a mystical world and entirely out of his reach. A sinking feeling of dread pooled in the pit of his stomach as he realized that as much as he wanted to free Silver from the power of the Shout, he would be unable to. This would be her battle, and hers alone.

"I was scared for you," she said softly, breaking his concentration. She looked down at her lap where her hands were open with palms toward the ceiling. Her hands were shaking. She continued, "Alduin would have killed you all, if he weren't so focused on me."

"It's best not to think about," he reassured her and placed a hand in hers. "You will come face-to-face with Alduin soon. Do you still think you can't defeat him?"

Silver looked at him, determination etched into every feature, "I am." Her hand clutched his as if her life depended on it. "Alduin will be dealt with. It's what may come after that worries me more."

Brynjolf was taken aback. "You can kill beasts ten times your size, but the thought of facing the war bothers you? Lass, I think you need to do some more thinking," he chuckled.

"I need to speak with Ulfric," Silver said, not showing any endorsement of his humor.

Reflexively, his hand clenched. Ulfric, he thought, the man who captured her and controlled her? "You want to be alone with him?"

She squeezed his hand in response, "After him, then I can speak with you."

"What is there to talk about with him?"

"He wants to go with me to kill Alduin. I have plenty to discuss with him."

"If that's the case, then you have plenty of time to mull things over while you travel to Whiterun." He pulled his hand away.

Brynjolf leaned back in his chair and folded his arms as she glared at him. He sighed and shook his head slowly, "We need to talk, Silver."

They could hear a pin drop in the room. Lungs tight and heart racing, he felt nervous. The silence and aloneness they had in that moment would likely be the last moment of peace between the two of them until Alduin's defeat and the end of the war. He switched his gaze from the suddenly fascinating bedsheets to her eyes. Her glare was replaced with a look of concern, egging him on.

"You and I," he paused. It wasn't how he wanted to start it. What if she didn't want anything to do with him after Alduin is defeated? "I need to know whether or not I should expect you to be by my side."

Her lips parted, as if begging to say something her lips wouldn't let through. "Your side," she echoed quietly. Every move she made caused his lungs and stomach to tighten, expecting the worst from her. "But what of Larehil?"

"Larehil?" His stomach dropped and his voice raised in tone slightly.

"Larehil? Your apprentice?" Her brows were knitted together, taken aback by his lack of acknowledgement.

"What does Larehil have to do with this?"

Silver's voice started as a determined statement and faded into a question, "You're... lovers?"

His brows shot up, and his mouth fell open, "How?"

Flustered, Silver looked to the door, her hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap. "That's a question for you to answer, not me."

"We are not lovers," Brynjolf quickly denied. She looked at him, surprised. "We had a misunderstanding, but I have no interest in my apprentice."

Silver's frown deepened. Watching her eyes dart to and fro with a worried expression sent a shudder down his spine. It was the same look she had when he met her in Mercer's manor, searching frantically for a clue on his whereabouts. It was a look of distrust, and his blood chilled.

"I wouldn't lie to you," he said slowly.

Ringing consumed his hearing until she finally spoke. "You... want me by your side?" Her head was slightly bowed, giving her a sheepish look.

"More than anything."

Again, they locked eyes, hers wide with shock. He couldn't stop the sad smile creeping over his lips. Despite the hint of warmth thawing his frozen gut, he felt the iron ball in his stomach sinking. Suddenly, what felt like millions of questions flooded his mind regarding how they would interact if she rejected him.

"I love you," she whispered. As soon as the words left her lips, her hands flew to her mouth and covered it.

When the initial shock wore off, Brynjolf cracked a wide, childish grin. Jumping from the chair he brought his hands just below her ears, gently pulling her toward him. His movement surprised her, causing her hands to move to his chest. His thumbs stroked her cheeks as he deepened the kiss, parting his lips and engaging in a dance with her mouth.

As they unleashed their tension, he moved over her until one knee was between her thighs and the other by her hip. His mind was going numb as the her scent consumed him. It was sweet and made him feel like he was in a meadow. They were tangled in one another, and the clothing between them suddenly felt like a large, daunting wall. His hand moved down to her waist, slowly sliding to her hip where he started bunching up her tunic to remove it. She placed a hand over his, silently asking him to stop.

She pulled away, and bit his bottom lip softly as she did, causing him to groan. The ache his body gave him was a result of impatience, akin to when he was a child and wanted candy. He wanted everything from her and he wanted to enjoy her company intimately. He pulled away to admire her, putting both hands on either side of her head to hold him up. The flame seemed to move with her sighs as she recuperated from the kiss. Her breaths were shaky,and he was reminded that she was ill moments ago.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. She snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. Naturally easing into the hug, they rolled onto their sides, cuddling into each other.

"You don't know how long I've waited to do that," he said softly, in a low voice.

She was staring at him with an expression he burned into the back of his mind. It was contentedness; her lips fell into a relaxed smile, and her brow was free of any crease. At the same time, it was a happiness that only a sense of security could grant. In that instant, he was sure that she had forgotten the world's burdens on her shoulders and enjoyed the moment.

Her eyes shot up, meeting his in a frenzy. Her smile fell and she sat up, staring at the door. Brynjolf sat up with her, "Silver?"

"Get back in your chair," she hissed at him and he did just that as quickly as he could.

As soon as he did, the door slammed open with a loud crack as the knob collided with the stone wall. Standing in the doorway was Ulfric, still clad in his armor.

"Dragonborn," he greeted unceremoniously with brows furrowed, and scowling as he saw Brynjolf.

Brynjolf could see it on his face with the way he glanced between Silver and him. Ulfric wanted a moment alone, and he was determined to not allow that. He looked at Silver and was surprised to her appear stoic. He expected anger toward Ulfric, at the very least.

"Ulfric," she responded, mimicking his cold tone.

"You didn't tell me she was awake, thief. I had to hear it from that Bosmer." Ulfric practically spat the last word out, as if it were the most disgusting term in his vocabulary.

Brynjolf felt a chill. Larehil likely didn't give that information easily. "Please," Brynjolf urged in a light tone, ensuring that it reflected the same amount of disdain toward the man, "Do tell me how you managed to make my apprentice speak to you."

"Brynjolf, give us a moment."

He didn't look at her. Instead, he kept his eyes on Ulfric, "If you dare make a move to harm her..." His words were low as he promised Ulfric's throat would meet a fine steel edge.

Brynjolf left Ulfric and Silver, closing the door behind him as he went. It wasn't until he had taken a few steps that he felt offended by being kicked out of his room. Damn rebel, he thought as he moved toward the Ragged Flagon. When he arrived, he saw Larehil at the bar holding a mug, her other hand was on the counter with a bandage on it as she stared idly beyond the bar. Brynjolf took a seat beside her, perched one elbow on the bar and turned toward her.

"What happened to your hand?"

Larehil rolled her eyes, "You sound like a parent getting ready to scold a child."

His brows lifted, urging her to answer his question.

"I had an arm wrestling match with Ulfric. He won," she grumbled.

"Ah, that must be how he knew Silver was awake. Which brings me to my next question. How did you know she was awake?"

Larehil's eyes were glued to her mug. "I went to check on her and heard you both speaking. So I came out here to drink and forget what I heard."

Brynjolf looked at the bar countertop as Vekel placed a mug filled with mead in front of him. "You'll need it," he heard Vekel mumble before walking away. Taking it in his hand, he took a gracious gulp from it.

"I hate Silver," Larehil whispered.

"The color or the person," Brynjolf chuckled. He was coming to terms with the fact there was nothing he could do for her. If he offered comfort, she may take advantage of it, or mistake his intentions.

"Don't be an ass," she hissed. She slouched over the bar, crossing her arms on the surface as she leaned forward. "I thought I would have more time with you."

He felt a hole burning in his temple under the heat of her gaze. She was angry, and he didn't blame her as he had been in her shoes before. He kept silent and let her vent about her frustrations.

"I was working on getting over it, you know. I was almost there, and had been taking long trips, until you had kissed me. Then, it all came rushing back with vengeance. My heart is so broken… So broken, that it's hard to breathe at times."

It was disgusting, he thought. Her words reminded him of when Silver had kissed him and left. It had taken him a few weeks, but he knew of the pain Larehil was going through. He understood that she would be dreaming of the moment he may come to her, or an evening of thieving and mischief mixed with mischievous flirting.

"What makes her so special?"

Although it was a rhetorical question, it crept under his skin. There were several reasons he had, and none of them were based on her being the Dragonborn. The thought reminded him of Ulfric and sent a pang of anger and jealousy through his gut. His lips pursed and he took another gulp to keep his tongue and lips from moving unnecessarily.

The two thieves sat in silence, mulling over their thoughts and what could happen over the next several days. Brynjolf barely noticed when Ulfric joined him at the bar, sitting next to him as if they were old friends. He couldn't tell if the warmth coursing through his veins was due to mead or anger.

After two mugs, and nearly an hour, Ulfric grumbled, "Silver asked that I pass on our agreement to you. You may accompany us on our journey to Whiterun. She has asked to take you in as a mercenary, and I agreed."

Brynjolf didn't have more than his half-mug of mead. He didn't want anger to overpower a conversation that may require civility. It was a decision he appreciated in that moment. He held back a scoff as he spoke, "That was kind of you."

Ulfric shot him a glare, "Do not make me regret that decision, thief."

"I would never," Brynjolf fixated his gaze on his mug and swirled what was left of its contents.

"There are rules," Ulfric growled. "You and her are not to converse privately. If either of you try to flee, I will find you both and kill you. Should you threaten me, that threat will also be applied to Silver."

Had the mug been made of anything softer than steel, it could have been broken or bent. Ulfric was still treating her as a possession. "Don't forget that she is the only one bound to your Word. If I so please, I will slit your throat. I will give you one rule to prevent that from happening."

They stared at each other, both brows furrowed and mouths turned into deep frowns. Ulfric was about to protest, but Brynjolf had a feeling that he was trying to keep the Dragonborn as compliant as possible since she had escaped as a dragon.

"And what would that be?"

"She is a person. Treat her as such."

When Ulfric didn't respond, Brynjolf took it as a hint the conversation was over and left the bar. Larehil was resting with her arms acting as a pillow on the bar, giving the appearance as if she were sleeping. When he didn't see her shoulders rising and falling with calm, even breaths, he knew that was wrong. She was pretending to sleep but listening to every word. Perfect. Brynjolf gave her shoulder two gentle pats, a sign they had used early on in their apprenticeship.

He left the bar and headed for the alchemy table in the Cistern. On a lidded wooden crate, filled with wine bottles and hay, he took a seat and waited for Larehil. Not twenty minutes later, she found him.

She switched her balance to one side, tilting her hips as she crossed her arms and stared down the bridge of her nose at him. "What do you need me for?"

Brynjolf couldn't hold back his smile. She was frustrated with his feelings, and sometimes she was harsh, but she was loyal. "As you know, Karliah is gone, and I will be going to aid Silver. That leaves the guild in yours and Delvin's hands."

She nodded. It was an agreement that him, Larehil, Karliah, and Orroc had discussed in depth. While Vekel, Vex, Delvin, and Tonilia had seniority and would help with the political matters, Orroc and Larehil were being groomed for becoming the next generation of the Thieves Guild leaders. He had faith in her and trusted her judgment, despite her hot-headedness.

"Do you know when you're leaving?"

"Likely tomorrow, but we'll be going either before dawn or after the bar rush."

With all the information she needed, Larehil turned away. Based on the way she hesitated taking her first step away from him, he could tell she was hoping for a different ending to the conversation. He watched her go, as his smile turned into a frown and he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Someday, he thought with a sigh, someone will come in and do her heart justice.

For a moment, he lingered by the table, leaning back against the stone wall. His shoulders sagged and his eyes stung from exhaustion. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with. He was absorbing what Ulfric told him; his mind repeated the words over and over again.

When Silver was well, they would leave and make their way to Alduin, and Brynjolf wasn't sure of how he could aid her. Would he be watching in the sidelines, just as he had in the ruin? The memory of Ulfric commanding Silver to unmask him from the shadows, made his blood boil and an involuntary shudder ran down his spine. He scowled as he knew he would be unable to run from a situation such as that again. Just as he had threatened Ulfric, he would need to be clear with her on how he wanted to be involved.

It took all of his energy to get to his feet. He made his way across the Cistern and entered his bedroom without knocking. When he saw her lying in bed, her back facing him. The memory of their recent kiss flashed when he blinked, removing any trace of anger from his very core. A crooked smile broke his frown as he crawled into bed with her. Putting an arm over her waist, he slept on the outside of the covers as she cuddled against him reflexively. He planted a soft kiss on her ear before falling asleep.

Silver

The warmth against her back made her uncomfortable. It reminded her of Ulfric sleeping with her to keep an eye on her, but she was cold and moved toward it instinctively. It made her feel trapped and anxious. She turned to look over her shoulder, but the darkness kept the identity a secret. When he sighed, she recognized the low hum. She froze and felt her skin heating up. She was in disbelief, repeating the same three questions to herself.

Did that really happen?

Am I dreaming?

Have I doomed him?

As if answering her mental anguish, Brynjolf's arm tightened and pulled her in, "I'm here, lass."

Silver's mind quieted and for that brief moment she was at peace. She had Brynjolf, the only person of value in her world. It was all that mattered. Alduin could set the surface ablaze, and Ulfric could ravage the land, but all that mattered to Silver was that she lay in this spot, feeling safe and comfortable.

Although hours had passed, it felt like minutes until Brynjolf moved to get up. He left a kiss on her cheek as he moved away. It was dark in the room, since it lacked windows and the candles had died long ago. Brynjolf lit a new candle and Silver turned over to watch him. He was dressed in a simple worker's white shirt that fit his torso loosely, displaying his collarbones, and with sleeves cutting off just before his elbows. His trousers were simple pants made of a noble's cotton. As he walked to his wardrobe, she heard the soft pad of his feet.

"Don't go," Silver said before she could rationalize it. The bed was cold without him.

She almost missed his candlelit smile before he spoke, "You're coming with me. I have a spare Thieves Guild armor set in here. It'll have to do until you get your armor from your home."

Her heart sank. Alduin had to be killed before another run-in happened. A cold hand squeezed her heart as she thought of Brynjolf being killed by the beast.

Her reluctance made her body feel heavy and unwilling to move. When her feet touched the stone floor, she expected a chill, but her bandaged feet kept them protected. She approached Brynjolf and he handed her the armor. Her eyes lingered on the armor, reminding her of the time Tonilia had given her one as well.

"I'll speak with Sapphire and Tonilia about getting you some shoes. I'll be right back."

As she looked up at him, he met her lips. Suddenly, the room didn't seem so cold and the bed was looking awfully comfortable, but only if he joined her. The tension keeping her shoulders and neck stiff disappeared, and it was replaced with a warm comfort that spread from her chest.

Dropping the armor, Silver wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. His arms snaked around her waist and when he pulled away, he hugged her tightly. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. The smell made her arms and legs prickle as she developed gooseflesh.

"Silver," his low, husky voice whispered. Leaning forward and lifting herself up with her toes, she pressed her lips against his neck. She felt him shudder.

"I'm not the one on an urgent mission," he chuckled.

Slowly, and reluctantly, they separated and Silver picked the armor up, hugging it to her chest. "If I had it my way," she started, but hesitated. Looking up at him, she saw his sad smile and she reflected it with her own. "I don't want to leave here, but I know we must. Before we deal with Ulfric, and Alduin, I need you to know that this… this is all I've ever wanted."

The way his smile widened and his eyes squinted, Silver could see his happiness. "We will get there," he assured her. "For now, let's get you where you need to be."

With a kiss on her cheek, Brynjolf left her to change. It was a struggle to change as her body was sore and felt heavy. As Silver finished fastening the final belt, she heard a knock on the door, followed by the click of the doorknob. Larehil opened it all the way, allowing light from the Cistern to brighten the room.

"I don't know why Brynjolf likes this room so much. It's always dark," she scowled.

Silver didn't answer. She watched Larehil carefully. Her gut was twisting as she thought of the night Larehil had left her in the bathroom of the manor. The Bosmer had lied, and clearly loved Brynjolf dearly. Yet, it wasn't Larehil's admiration for Brynjolf that made her uncomfortable, it was something else. Something that Silver couldn't put her finger on.

"I get it," she scoffed. "You think you're better than me. Well, that's fine. You can have him. While you guys are off playing hero, I'll be here keeping the business running."

Silver's lips twitched. There it was. The guild was not a home for Larehil, but rather a job. She averted her gaze to the boots and made her way to them as she argued with herself. Larehil was taught by Brynjolf, a man who viewed the guild as a business; her view was evidence of his influence on her thinking. She remained silent, but her eyes followed the Bosmer.

Larehil crossed her arms, "Right. Brynjolf said to meet in the Ragged Flagon once you're ready."

Silver arched a brow as she watched Larehil leave the room. Putting on the boots, Silver followed after her and went to join Brynjolf.

As expected, on the far side of the cavern where there was an entrance to the Ratways, Brynjolf and Ulfric stood, talking nonchalantly. From afar, Silver admired the redhead. His brow was relaxed and his mouth formed a bored frown. Whatever Ulfric was saying, it was going in one ear and out the other. It made Silver chuckle.

On her way over to them, she was greeted politely by several of the thieves and Delvin gave her a wink, earning a smile from her. Ulfric was the first to notice her, and acknowledge her presence.

Ulfric and Silver exchanged a cold greeting and headed out with Brynjolf trailing behind them.