minyocs

[minyocs]

Title: In Search of Silver Linings (We Discovered Gold) Fandom: Skyrim Pairing: Brynjolf/Female Dragonborn Summary: After the attack on Helgen, one thing became clear: a new life was beginning. And to do that, Minerva needed to get as far away from dragons, and Imperials and Stormcloaks as possible. She’d always heard Riften was a good place to disappear. A story in Three Acts, told through the interstitial moments between quests.

[minyocs]

Thane’s Jeweler’s Mark

[minyocs]

Name: Morgana Vistel  Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons (Homebrew game)

Age: 22 Occupation: Adventurer Species: Half-elf Gender: Female Family: Thane Vistel (older brother; living), Evey Vistel (younger sister; deceased), Unnamed parents (deceased), Damon Vistel (ancestor; deceased; Watcher) Physical Description: Lithe and fair skinned with shoulder-length, thick, black hair and golden eyes. She has a scar on her chin from a previous skirmish she was in alongside her brother. Pretty features, slightly pointed ears. Hair usually very messy. Personality: (following a 1-2-3 Model). Value - Family. Flaws - Ruthless and Headstrong. Traits - Compassionate, Sincere, and Loyal. Sexuality: Demisexual Backstory: When Morgana was a child, she grew up in a fairly well-off town (Argenhold) that was known for the beautifully ornate jewelry that the artisans produced. This town was located along the mountains of Gentian. Growing up with her older brother (Thane) and baby sister (Evey), she was a happy child who was beginning her studies to become something of a medical professional. She always wanted to help people. When she was fifteen years old, a terrible plague swept through her town, and the powers that be (presumably The Empress) decided the only course of action would be to destroy the town entirely and all of the people in it. Everyone was locked inside the gates, and the entire town was set ablaze, the citizens shot with arrows from the top of the walls if they were caught trying to escape. Morgana and Thane were the only ones who survived the massacre, having hidden themselves under the corpses that were being carted out when all was said and done. Morgana and Thane traveled together after that, having only each other in the world. Both handled the trauma differently, with Thane swearing revenge on the people who murdered their family, and Morgana falling silent for nearly two years as she followed her brother. Her brother became quite the battlemaster, while she turned her talents to the art of being hidden and striking swiftly and silently. The ghosts of their shared past haunted them all along the way. Two months ago, Thane and Morgana were caught in a fight that was over their heads against a band of slavers. This was around the strait between Arvensi and Argoseris. Thane was captured, but caused enough of a commotion for Morgana to be able to escape. He screamed for her to not look back. She ran as far and as fast as she could, vowing to find a way to free him.  Ongoing Story: Morgana arrived on Ralek to try and do some work that would get her a diviner to help her find her brother. Along the way, she met Nerida (a Sirenian Divination wizard), Aedan (a human fighter, later revealed to be Jago Lejune, nephew to the Empress), Shepherd (half-orc druid), and Alistair (satyr bard). While traveling with them, they lost Alistair to a monster, and were shortly after joined by Damien, an elven blood hunter. The party is working to find the lost god-city of Dur, but have been waylaid by a lead on finding Thane. She has also recently learned that Thane’s Watcher was the first Emperor of Altaine, and that Damon (her Watcher/ancestor) was his best friend and Commander during the rebellion that founded the empire. Likes:  Archery, medicine Dislikes: Slavers, the Empress’ family line (for now). Strengths: Stealth, lock-picking, archery Weaknesses: melee combat Notes: Ever since the destruction of Argenhold, Morgana has been able to see spirits, specifically Watchers (spirits of love meant to watch over a mortal). Her own Watcher is her ancestor, Damon Vistel. Her brother’s Watcher is Corasand (Cora for short), and was the first Emperor of Altaine. She doesn’t know yet, but Damon was in love with Corasand in life.

Misc Questions: • KIND OF CLOTHING?: Usually pretty simple. She has been traveling with Thane for the past seven years, so she’s used to traveling light most of the time. She wears studded leather armor. • WHAT ELEMENT WOULD THEY BE?: More likely fire.  • THEME SONG?: “Courage” - P!nk • ALIGNMENT?: Chaotic Neutral • DEADLY SIN THAT BEST REPRESENTS THEM?: Wrath • HOBBIES?: She used to enjoy learning about medicine.  • SPECIAL SKILLS / TALENTS?: She’s very skilled with a bow. Also very good at stealth and picking locks after the past seven years on the road with her brother. • PATIENCE LEVEL?: Usually pretty high, but it’s been wavering.  • REGRETS?: Leaving Thane behind. • ROLE MODEL?: Damon and Cora • MODE OF TRANSPORTATION?: On foot, lately. • PETS?: The party pet seems to be Argos the dog. • WEAPON: Primarily bow & arrow, but she is proficient with a rapier and daggers.  • HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT LOVE?: She’s a bit resistant to it, after all she’s been through.  • HOME TOWN?: Argenhold. It no longer exists. • WHERE THEY LIVE NOW?: Nowhere, really. She’s been homeless and traveling with Thane since Argenhold was destroyed. • MAKES A LIVING BY?: Adventuring/hunting creatures. • BAD HABITS?: She’s gotten into the habit of speaking to Damon (or other Watchers/spirits) without much regard for who might hear her.  • DOES THEIR UNIVERSE HAVE A GOD?: Yes, but she puts no faith in the gods. She feels as though they abandoned her, so she’s turned her back on them. • DO GHOSTS OR SUPERNATURAL ENTITIES EXIST IN THEIR’ WORLD?: Yes. She sees and speaks to ghosts on a regular basis.  • OUTLOOK ON LIFE?: Despite everything she’s experienced, she still believes that there has to be good in the world. She is outwardly warm towards people, and has even told Nerida that “Sometimes allowing people to be close to you is painful, but it’s always worth it.”    • MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THEIR LIFE: Thane. • WHAT WAS YOUR CHARACTER LIKE AS A CHILD?: Very outgoing and curious. She wanted to learn a lot.  • WHAT IS SOMETHING OTHER PEOPLE ASSUME ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER?: She has a haunted look about her, so people are often kinder towards her because they assume she’s seen some shit. They have no idea just how much.  • LANGUAGES SPOKEN: Celestial, Common, Elvish, Goblin, Sylvan • ENNEAGRAM TYPE? Reformer • SIBLINGS?: Thane (living), and Evey (deceased)  • HAVE THEY EVER WANTED TO COMMIT SUICIDE?: She seriously considered it after what happened in Argenhold. It was Damon talking to her that kept her from going through with it.  • CLOSE FRIENDS?: Damon and Cora. But living, she’s starting to grow closer to Nerida.  • AS A CHILD, WHAT DID THEY WANT TO BE WHEN THEY GREW UP?: She wanted to be a doctor. She had just begun an apprenticeship when Argenhold was destroyed.  • BELIEF IN AN AFTERLIFE?: Yes. • WANTS TO GET MARRIED?: She hasn’t considered it. Subconsciously, she wonders if she’s too broken for anyone to love her.  • WANTS TO HAVE KIDS, RAISE A FAMILY?: Again, she hasn’t considered it.   • SWORN ENEMY?: Admiral Navarch, for destroying her home. Edwin “Eddie” Bellamy, for taking her brother. • IS THEIR NAME A PUN OF ANYTHING?: I technically tried to derive her name from Morgan le Fey. Also, she sees dead people, so I wanted to play with the sound of “morgue”  • MOST TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE?: The burning of Argenhold. • FAVORITE MEMORY?: When she was a little girl, Thane brought her into town to take part in a festival that was being held. She still looks back on that time fondly, thinking of the bright lights and colors floating overhead.  • ARE THEY TICKLISH?: Yes.   • IMPORTANT PEOPLE IN THEIR LIFE: Thane, Damon, Cora. She’s starting to feel like Nerida, Shepherd and Aedan/Jago are important, but she’s not there yet (especially with Jago. She feels pretty betrayed by finding out he’s actually related to the Empress) • IF THEY COULD HAVE ONE THING IN THE WORLD?: If anyone were to actually sit down and ask her, she would tell them that she just wants family and a home.  • WOULD THEY DARE KILL SOMEONE?: With ease, if it meant getting Thane back. She’s not proud of it, but she would also be very willing to torture to get him back.  • INVOLVED WITH MAGIC OR WITCHCRAFT?: Not technically. She has some ghostly-related abilities, but they aren’t inherently magical. 

[minyocs]

Dragonslayer Returns

The door to the Honeyside opened without a sound as the key slid into place. Silent feet padded across the kitchen floor, into the bedroom on the main floor. It was late, well past midnight if the number of footpads running through the city were anything to judge by. The new recruits to the Guild would need to get better at sticking to the shadows. Perhaps she would talk Delvin into giving a few lessons. A form shifted in the bed, breathing deeply as he settled onto his back. Brynjolf’s eyes cracked open ever so slightly in the dark.

“You’re home,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. Minerva set her pack on the floor and toed off her boots. She figured he would see even her in the shadows.

“Finally,” she answered. From that one word, Brynjolf was suddenly sitting upright and moving toward her. She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m just tired.” His hands were gentle as he turned her towards him and began undoing the buckles on her armor for her. Minerva didn’t even have the energy to argue with him as he undressed her. Her entire body ached in places she’d never known she had muscles, and in every place she’d already known existed. Now that she was home, in the arms of her lover with the knowledge that her family was safe, all she wanted to do was sleep for the next year.

“I hear you managed to bring the war to a temporary truce,” Brynjolf whispered in the darkness. His lips brushed against every inch of skin he revealed. He was tender with her, taking his time to watch for discomfort as he worked.

“That will be over once word gets out,” Minerva muttered bitterly. Brokering a truce had not been anywhere in the vicinity of what she had wanted to do. Neither General Tullius nor Ulfric Stormcloak had known she was that Nord Illusionist that had nearly been beheaded at Helgen, and Minerva was keen on keeping it that way. Besides, she had interacted with too many people with this face. Using a new one for the Dragonborn persona would have been useless and would only have opened her up to more hazards if anyone found out. She had traded Markarth for Dawnstar and reparations for Karthwasten. It wasn’t ideal, but she couldn’t hand Riften over to the Imperial Army and risk whatever changes they might bring to the Thieves Guild. It was better to stay with the devil she knew, as it were.

“And you trapped a dragon just three days ago.” Had it only been that long? It felt like months had passed since she’d first called out to Odahviing. Now undressed from all of her armor, Minerva twisted her body to curl into Brynjolf’s chest. His arms wrapped around her, and she felt safer than she had in months. She inhaled his scent — honey and silver

“He’s actually not so bad, if you’d believe that.” Brynjolf huffed out a laugh against her shoulder. They lay in silence together, Minerva tracing her fingertips over his arms. “Alduin is dead.” Brynjolf kissed her temple.

“Aye, that was what I thought when you came in.”

“I won’t scare you with the details.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Not tonight, at least.” She bit back a cheeky grin at the way he tensed around her. “I came straight here from High Hrothgar when it was all over. I didn’t want to be away any longer than I already had.” She yawned and settled further into his arms.

“Sleep, lass. You’ve more than earned it.”

[minyocs]

The Truth

The second Minerva stepped into the Ragged Flagon after infiltrating Mercer’s home, she grabbed Delvin by the arm and disappeared back into the Ratways with him.

“What’s all this about?” he asked. “You’re supposed to going to Bryn with what you grabbed in Mercer’s place.”

“It’s about Kirste,” she answered. That seemed to shut him up, if only for a moment.

“You two must be serious if he told you about his little girl.”

“Delvin, I know what happened to her. It wasn’t an accident.” She pulled out the journal she found in Riftweald Manor, opening to the page that had shaken her so badly she had almost forgotten to grab Mercer’s plans from his desk. Delvin’s jaw went slack as he read Mercer’s writing, how he’d slicked the area Kirste had liked to climb and cleaned it up before alerting the rest of the Guild. How he’d thought the child would get in the way of making money.

“That bastard,” Delvin snarled. “But why are you tellin’ me this? Brynjolf-”

“I don’t know what to do. This would only twist the blade, but I know he deserves to know the truth. I… I don’t want to bring him more pain.”

“He’d find out eventually. You want to do right by Bryn? Tell him. Better he hear it from you than find out on his own.”

***

Minerva’s hands trembled as she crossed the cistern. Brynjolf was hunched over Mercer’s desk. He glanced up when she neared.

“I’ve scoured the town and I’ve spoken to every contact we have left. No sign of Mercer. Any luck on your end?” he asked.

“He wasn’t there,” Minerva answered, “but I found these plans.” Brynjolf scanned the papers she handed over, eyes growing wider by the second.

“Shor’s beard! He’s going after the Eyes of the Falmer? That was Gallus’ pet project. If he gets his hands on them, you can be certain he’ll be gone for good and set up for life.”

“Then we have to stop him.”

“Agreed. He’s taken everything the Guild has left, and to go after one of the last greatest heists is just an insult. I’ve spoken to Karliah, and made amends for how the Guild’s treated her. Now she wishes to speak with both of us.”

“Brynjolf, wait. There’s something else that I found while I was there.” Minerva handed the journal over, but spoke while he flipped through the pages. “What happened with Kirste wasn’t an accident. Mercer… He wanted you to go out on more jobs to bring money in. I’m so sorry.” Brynjolf continued to scan through the pages, and she knew when he’d found the entry when his grip on the journal clenched and his entire body began trembling. Brynjolf roared as he flung the book into the nearest wall, collapsing into the chair behind him. His hands covered his face as he took slow, deep breaths.

“I’m going to kill him.” His voice sounded so calm and resolved; it sent a shiver up Minerva’s spine. She’d never seen Brynjolf this angry, and was certain she never wanted to see it again.

[minyocs]

Reunion

It wasn’t the best of reunions, with each Guild member holding daggers at the ready when she walked in with Karliah. She had been gone for over a month, getting the proof they needed to take Mercer down. Brynjolf had looked as though he had seen a ghost at first, and it broke Minerva’s heart a little. What had Mercer told him? The tone shifted when Karliah presented Gallus’ journal, and they opened the now empty vault.

“That son of a bitch!” Vex roared. “I’ll kill him!”

“Vex! Put it away, right now,” Brynjolf ordered. “We can’t afford to lose our heads now. We need to calm down and focus.” Minerva remained silent as Brynjolf ordered Delvin and Vex to watch the Flagon for any sign of Mercer approaching. As everyone cleared out of the vault, Minerva started for the Guild Master’s desk to look for clues. Before she could get two paces, Brynjolf’s hand clapped around her wrist. “Min, wait.” So shocked she was by the use of her true name that she could do little more but stumble forward when Brynjolf pulled her into a crushing embrace.

“Brynjolf?” she asked.

“I thought you were dead.”

“If it weren’t for Karliah, I would be. Whatever Mercer told you… whatever he said about me… I’m sorry.”

“What happened?”

“It was a trap. Mercer used the opportunity to try and kill me, but Karliah saved my life.” Minerva pressed her forehead against his chest, fighting back tears as that wave of fear from before washed over her. When Mercer had stabbed her, she’d felt so cold. Her body trembled now at the memory of it.

“And after? What took you so long to come back to us?” To me, he didn’t say. Minerva pulled back enough that she could see his face while she answered.

“We had the proof with Gallus’ journal, but you saw it. It’s written in the Falmer language. So I had to steal a translation key from the wizard in Markarth and then take it back to Winterhold for our contact to translate it for us. We have a new fence in Winterhold, by the way.” Brynjolf couldn’t help the incredulous chuckle he barked out. Leave it to her to find a way to expand the Guild’s influence while presumed dead. “I wanted to come back sooner. I wanted to send word, especially for Alesan and Sofie, but I couldn’t risk Mercer knowing I was still alive.” She looked away. “After our last conversation, I wasn’t sure if you would want to see me again.” Brynjolf cupped her cheek in his hand, turning her gaze back to him, and gently pressed his lips to hers.

“Of course I did, lass.” She kissed him once more and took a step back.

“There’s more that you need to know before we go about tracking Mercer down. He was the one who killed Gallus, not Karliah.”

“Aye, I feared that was the case. From that last entry in Gallus’ diary, it looks like he was getting close to exposing Mercer to the Guild.” The two of them walked out of the vault together as they spoke.

“And Karliah was behind both Goldenglow and Honningbrew, trying to make Mercer look bad in front of Maven.”

“Clever lass. Was there anything else?”

“Gallus, Karliah and Mercer were something called Nightingales.” Now Brynjolf stopped and turned to look at her.

“What? Nightingales? I always just assumed they were a tale… a way to keep the young footpads in line.”

“According to Karliah, they are real, but she wouldn’t tell me anything more about it. I know there is a lot of work to be done now, but I haven’t slept in the past couple of nights while I was trying to get back here from Winterhold. I need to see my children again. I don’t even know what I’ll say when they see me.”

“I never told them you were dead,” Brynjolf said. “They thought you were still on a mission from the Guild.” Tears brimmed in Minerva’s eyes, and she quickly brushed them away.

“Walk me home?” she asked, reaching her hand toward him.

***

“Ma? Sofie, Ma’s home!”

“Mama!” Minerva fell to her knees as both of her children threw their arms around her. She could only hold them and bury her face in their shoulders. Her entire body trembled as she squeezed them as tightly as she could manage. “Mama, why are you crying?”

“I just missed you both so much,” she answered with a watery smile. Brynjolf watched from where he stood just inside the doorway, feeling a bit like an outsider looking in.

“Mister Brynjolf told us you were on an important mission. Did you fight another dragon?” Alesan asked excitedly. Minerva laughed through her tears and scrubbed at her face.

“Not this time. Were you good for Iona while I was away?”

“Yes, Mama,” Sofie answered. “And Mister Brynjolf came by almost every day to check on us while you were gone.” Now she leaned in and whispered in her mother’s ear, though it was still loud enough to carry in the small room. “Did you know he tells the best stories?”

“I bet he has great stories to tell,” Minerva said. She rubbed her nose affectionately against Sofie’s, causing the girl to giggle.

“It’s good to see you, my Thane,” Iona said as she ascended the stairs. Minerva kissed each of her children on the cheek before standing.

“Thank you for taking care of them while I was away. I’ll try not to be gone so long in the future. Go have a meal at the Bee and Barb on me tonight.”

It was a few hours before Brynjolf and Minerva were alone again; the children had resisted going to bed now that their mother was home again. Once they had both nodded off and Iona had taken her leave for bed, Brynjolf felt oddly out of place in Minerva’s home. He’d been here more nights than not while she had been presumed dead, and plenty of times with her before that. Now that she had returned , he felt as though he may be overextending his welcome as he sat at the table in her kitchen. That fear was assuaged when Minerva came upstairs and embraced around him from behind, her arms draped over his shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for taking care of them. Thank you for staying while I put them to bed. Thank you for… for everything you’ve done for me and my family. Will you stay the night?”

“Only if you’ll forgive me,” he answered.

“Forgive you?”

“Aye. For how we left things off before.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. He didn’t think he had the words to explain what he’d felt at hearing she’d died. He might never be able to speak of that. Minerva dropped her head to his shoulder, squeezing his shoulders just a little tighter.

“And here I thought I would be begging your forgiveness for hiding it from you for so long.” Her weak laugh brushed over her skin. “So will you stay?”

“Aye, lass. I’ll stay.”

[minyocs]

Regrets

“I’m sorry, Brynjolf. I know you two were close.” Mercer’s words echoed in the back of Brynjolf mind as he finished off the bottle of mead Vekel had handed him. It wasn’t enough. Mercer said that Minerva had tried to leave a dying message for him, but hadn’t been able to finish was she was saying. Brynjolf couldn’t begin to imagine what she would say. They had left off so poorly, when she’d shown him what she was. A Changeling, she had called herself. One who was able to change her face, or sex if the way she spoke was anything to gauge. Now she was dead, killed just like Gallus had been.

Divines, what was he going to tell her children? It had already been two weeks since Mercer had returned without Minerva. Brynjolf had been telling Alesan and Sofie that she was out on another mission for the Guild, taking care of some loose ends. Sooner or later, he would have to tell them the truth. His heart ached as he ordered another bottle of mead and took it with him through the Cistern. The stone tomb which hid the Guild’s entrance slid out of the way as he made his way up to the walkways of Riften. The sun had already set on another day, and he found his drunken feet taking him to the Honeyside house. He took the courtesy to knock, knowing well enough that Iona would gut him if he simply picked the lock like he usually did. Iona stepped out of the way without a word to let him inside when she opened the door.

“Mister Brynjolf! You’re back!” Sofie exclaimed. “Is Mama still on her mission?”

“Aye, lass,” he answered. “She’s still working, but I got a report from her today. She sends you her love.” He reached over and gently ruffled Alesan’s hair from where the boy was sitting for dinner. Brynjolf felt guilty lying to the children, but he still couldn’t bear to tell them that Minerva was dead. They had both already lost their parents before. And he would be damned if he let Grelod sink her claws into them. He sat on the trunk at the edge of Minerva’s bed and waited while the children finished their dinner. Iona spared him hardly a glance before she ushered the children downstairs to bed. There was a bit of a fuss; both Alesan and Sofie were quite fond of Brynjolf and didn’t want to go to sleep so soon after his arrival. He assured them he would be there in the morning and they could tell him all about their day then. Once both were settled in their beds, Iona returned up the stairs.

“There’s something you aren’t telling them.” She stated. Her usual shouting was much more subdued, though her tone still sounded as though she were reprimanding him. He supposed he should have expected that. Brynjolf nodded once in response to her accusation. “Where is she, really?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“Is she even alive?”

“… I don’t know.” His voice was much quieter now. Iona huffed.

“Stay here for the night if that’s what you want. Divines only know what she sees in you, but the children are fond of you as well. If anything goes missing, I’ll cut off your hands.” As Iona made her way back down the stairs, Brynjolf figured that it was her way of showing she cared. He shifted from where he was perched on the bedroom trunk and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He’d been here a few times since Mercer returned with news of Minerva’s demise, a bottle of mead still in his hand as he replayed their last conversation in his mind. He’d been too harsh with her, he decided. She had trusted him with this secret knowledge, and he had twisted it. It had felt like a betrayal at the time, as though he couldn’t trust anything she had ever said or done. He had asked for time; they would discuss it again when she returned. Now, they didn’t have that chance.

Gods, he should have kissed her.

[minyocs]

On the Matter of Trust

Minerva had learned more about Mercer during their short travel to Snow Veil Sanctum than she had in over half a year in the Thieves Guild. He wasn’t the talkative sort, strictly business. He was incredibly observant, sneering an insult when he had seen her the morning they departed from Riften. Apparently he had noticed the evidence of her lack of sleep the night before. Mercer was an excellent survivalist, evidenced through the couple of nights they had to camp in the wilds of Skyrim. They split watch between themselves with hardly a word shared.

Gods, she wished she were with Brynjolf instead.

Brynjolf liked to fill the silence while they traveled the roads together, usually with risqué remarks. She enjoyed their banter and its absence after their last conversation left a sore ache in her chest. He saw through all of her facades, able to read her no matter how well she tried to hide her feelings. It was part of what made her fall for him in spite of herself. He was a man of the city at his heart, not made for long treks through the woods or snow. When they traded watch in the night, it was always with tender words and kisses.

Even with their last conversation lingering in the back of her mind, Minerva still felt as though she could trust Brynjolf with her life. He’d had her back more times than she could count since she had joined the Thieves Guild. For Oblivion’s sake, she trusted him enough to tell him what she really was, to show him her true face. She had always been impressed by Brynjolf’s skill as a thief. She knew from experience just how deft those hands of his were.

She trusted Mercer to have her back against the Draugr. She trusted in his fighting capabilities, after seeing him take down more than a few undead in their search for Karliah. Minerva had been impressed by his ability to pick the lock of the first doorway that led into the sanctum. It took a great deal of skill, and she could admire that in the leader of the Thieves Guild.

Minerva shouldn’t have trusted him to have her back.

As she lay on the floor of the Snow Veil Sanctum, bleeding and frozen, she cursed Mercer’s name. The truth of Gallus’ death was no great leap of logic after what she’d heard. Even less after the bastard had stabbed her with his own dwarven blade. Her body was still immobile, thanks to the arrow still lodged in her shoulder from when she’d walked into the room. Her vision was fading. She couldn’t even cry out.

Her last thoughts were of Brynjolf and her children. The family she had never before dared to dream of. Tears silently fell from her eyes as she lost consciousness.

[minyocs]

Revelation

The Honeyside was quiet, only Minerva and Brynjolf within its walls. Iona had taken the children to the Bee and Barb for the night at Minerva’s request. Her Housecarl had given her a disapproving look, but didn’t argue as she helped Alesan and Sofie pack for the evening. They were treating it as a game of playing adventurer for the night, complete with a room in the inn before they set out in the morning. Minerva would be leaving with Mercer the next morning to investigate the Snow Veil Sanctum, and would give the children a farewell kiss before she departed. Tonight, she needed to speak with Brynjolf in private. It was time to come clean.

Her hands were trembling where they rested on the table between them.

“It’s not often you send the children off with Iona,” Brynjolf joked lightly. “Seems as though you wanted us to have some time alone before you leave on your mission tomorrow.” There was a hunger in his gaze that Minerva would have liked nothing more than to answer. Perhaps later, if he chose to stay.

“I have something important to tell you,” she answered. Her voice was more meek than she would have liked.

“More important than when you found out you were the Dragonborn?” There was still that easy smile on his lips. He had actually taken that news quite well when she’d learned it herself a few months ago.

“I think so.” Now Brynjolf seemed more serious, sitting up a little straighter in his chair and leaning forward to give her his full attention. His eyes dropped down to her trembling hands and he took them in his with a touch so tender it gave her strength.

“It’s actually along a similar vein,” she said with a nervous laugh. “A bit of a birthright, I suppose. But, Brynjolf, I need you to promise me you will never breathe a word of this to another soul. Nobody knows. Not even Alesan and Sofie.”

“I swear on my honor as a thief.” It was clear he was trying to make her laugh, but Minerva only stared into his eyes. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I swear on Kirste’s grave, I will never tell another.” Minerva took a deep, steadying breath.

“The face you see isn’t the one I was born with, and I’ve never had Galathil change me.” Minerva  let her current features fade away, revealing her true nature. Nobody had seen Min as they truly were since they were a small child, before they had figured out how to disguise themselves. The fair complexion on their arms gave way to a truly milky white, devoid of all hue, as did their coppery hair. Their eyes lost all color, becoming only blank orbs with a smokey black ring radiating from around their eyelids. Their breasts shrank slightly, still feminine but more likely to be overlooked. By the time they were finished removing their mask, the person seated before Brynjolf looked wholly unfamiliar. He couldn’t find Minerva in any of their blank features. He jerked his hands back, his chair clattering over behind him as he leapt to his feet.

“What are you?” he asked. A lump formed in his throat as his heart raced. Afraid, he realized. He was afraid of what he saw before him.

“The Nord legends call people like me Changelings. They say we were cursed by Mephala to never have a face of our own.” Even their voice was different, echoing strangely between a tenor and an alto. They did not move from their chair, though Brynjolf could swear he detected sorrow in their empty white eyes. “My name in Min, and this is what I truly am. I… I wanted you to know.”

“So you’ve lied to us all from the beginning.” His voice was harsh. Min flinched at the sound of it. “Was any part of it true? Your stories? Your parents? Did you even care for-”

“Yes!” Min stood as abruptly as Brynjolf had, tears spilling down their cheeks. “Bryn, the face you met is the closest to myself I have been in years. My mother was a Breton, and she taught me all of her father’s old Nord lullabies. I really was friends with Alesan’s father when I was younger, though I was a boy at the time. Everything I’ve told you about my past was true. And I’m showing you this now because I care for you. I didn’t want to hide this part of me from you anymore.”

“Why have you?”

“I was scared. In what little lore exists about people like me, it always ends with us being hunted down and killed. No one has seen me like this since I was small. My mother was the only one. But I trust you, Brynjolf.” Min took a step forward, reaching out to him, but he took another step back, maintaining their distance. Their heart sank in their chest. “Bryn?”

“This is too much. I need to think.” He made for the door, and Min lunged forward to take hold of his wrist, dropping to their knees on the floor before him.

“Please, you can’t tell-”

“I swore an oath. Your secret is safe.”

“Do I need to leave the Guild?” Brynjolf sighed, but was gentle as he pulled his hand out of their grasp.

“No,” he answered. “I’m not sure where this leaves you and I, but you don’t need to hide away again. Give me some time, la-” He cut himself off, uncertain what to call Min. “We can speak again when you return.” With that, Brynjolf let himself out and Min collapsed in on themselves on the floor, tears pouring down their face. They choked back their sobs, waiting until they were sure Brynjolf was long gone. Their features shifted, donning the mask of Minerva once again.

[minyocs]

An Accident

After finally ushering Sofie and Alesan to bed, Minerva made her way up to the main floor of her home in Riften. She’d been doing a lot of odd jobs for the Guild lately, and Mercer was sending her off to Solitude in the morning. Minerva grabbed a bottle of Black-Briar mead from the kitchen and stepped out onto the patio, where she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“By the Eight, Brynjolf! What are you doing here?” Her heart was still pounding in her chest; she hadn’t expected him to be here. He looked up from the chair he lounged in with a sly smirk.

“Can you blame me for wanting to enjoy the view, lass? You’ve got the best place in Riften,” he answered. She shook her head with a smile and went back inside to grab two cups, placing them and the bottle of mead between them on the table outside. Brynjolf opened the bottle and poured for the both of them. “You’ve become quite domestic with those two.”

“Were you spying on me?”

“I might have overheard a bit.” Minerva laughed and sipped at her mead. This easy rapport she had with Brynjolf was comforting. Even with their feelings for each other being mixed in with the business of the Guild, it never felt like a hinderance. Delvin, the old gossip he was, liked to tease the both of them. Minerva was pretty sure there was a betting pool with their names involved, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. For the first time in a very long time, she was happy. She and Brynjolf drank their mead and spoke of trivial things. This wasn’t the time to talk about jobs or the Guild, but to enjoy each other’s company. They were halfway through their second bottle before the topic of her children came back again.

“Alesan tells me you plan to teach him some ‘neat things’ when he gets older,” she said with a giggle, lazily tracing her fingertips over the hand that he had resting on the table.

“Aye, he’s a good lad. He just might follow in your footsteps,” he answered easily.

“And for all your grumbling about how I can’t just pick up stray children, you certainly took a liking to Sofie the moment she sold you those flowers in Windhelm.” This time, Brynjolf didn’t laugh, and instead stared down into his mead. Minerva picked up the shift in the atmosphere immediately. “Bryn-”

“I had a daughter,” he murmured, taking a heavy drink. Minerva felt herself sobering very quickly.

“Had?” she asked softly. She waited for him to continue, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he struggled with his words.

“I met her mother shortly after I joined the Guild. I was young and thought I could do anything. When she told me she was pregnant, I swore I’d make an honest woman out of her. We were married that evening. After Kirste was born, her mother didn’t make it. She was a frail thing, and it was too much for her.” He took another long swig; Minerva remained silent. “I knew the Cistern was no real place to raise a child, but I didn’t have much option. I made it work, with some help from Delvin and our old Guild Master. They took a real shine to her, called her our good luck charm.” He smiled at the memory. Brynjolf finally looked away from his cup and at Minerva, and what she saw broke her heart.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Her voice barely carried over the lapping water of the lake below them. Brynjolf took a ragged breath and stared out onto the lake now. He set his empty cup down and grabbed the bottle instead. Minerva didn’t stop him.

“When she was five, I had to leave on a job out in Whiterun. Wouldn’t take too long, but I’d be gone for at least two weeks. While I was gone, there was an accident. Kirste had been climbing around the training room and slipped. Mercer was the one who found her. They had to bury her before I returned, so I didn’t even get to hold her one last time.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly still trying to fight back his grief. After another uneasy breath, he continued. “I wasn’t sober for at least two months after. The others felt guilty, since they hadn’t been watching her. She’d always been so sure-footed that they just didn’t consider it possible.” Brynjolf’s head hung low as Minerva stood from her chair and swept around behind him. She draped her arms over his shoulders, holding him as he wept. When his breathing settled, Minerva gently took the now empty bottle of mead from his hands and set it on the table.

“Stay here tonight, Bryn. I don’t want you alone in this state.”

“I should head back to the Flagon. There’s work to be done.”

“You’re already drunk. Come inside and sleep.” He didn’t argue any more as Minerva helped him to his feet and into her home. He kicked off his boots at the edge of the bed, and she helped him undo the buckles of his Guild armor before climbing into bed together. She pressed soft kisses to his face, easing the tension from his brow.

“Thank you for telling me,” she whispered.

[minyocs]

All Is Found

Shamelessly used the lullaby from Frozen II. Fight me.

The winters in Windhelm were a bitter sort of cold that seeped into the bones. Minerva had grown used to it during her time as Horingr in the Mage College, but it was clear that Brynjolf’s Nord blood was not doing him any favors. She bit back a giggle as he pulled his outer cloak more tightly around his neck in an attempt to keep out the snow that kept getting kicked up by the wind. This job was meant to be a fairly simple one, but they would need to spend the next few nights in Windhelm to scope the target and sweep them out. Their wandering took them through through the Gray Quarter, near the docks, as Minerva asked around a few of the Dunmer in the area.

By the time she returned to the docks, she found Brynjolf speaking to a little girl standing just inside the city gate. She didn’t have a scrap of winter clothing on her, despite the cold, and carried a basket full of mountain flowers. Minerva noted with the faintest of smiles that Brynjolf held a few of those flowers in his hand as he talked to the girl.

“Where are your parents, lass?” he asked gently. Minerva didn’t often hear his voice take such a soft tone. She found it suited him better than she would have imagined. She kept back, out of sight, and listened in.

“They… They’re dead. My mama died when I was little… I… I don’t remember her very well. My father was a Stormcloak soldier. One day, he left and… he didn’t come back.” The girl sounded so sad and lonely, it broke Minerva’s heart. She stepped out from the shadows and moved to stand next to Brynjolf. She was surprised by how stricken he looked at the girl’s story.

“I’m sorry,” Minerva interrupted. “I don’t mean to intrude, but did I hear you correctly? You’re all by yourself here?”

“Yes… I try and sell flowers so I can buy food, but it’s not much.”

“Where do you sleep, dove? Do you have any warm clothes?”

“No. I didn’t have anything after my father died.” Minerva knelt in front of her and extended a hand.

“My name is Minerva. I have a son in Riften that I adopted a few weeks ago. If you’d like to leave with me, I would be happy to adopt you too.”

“Really? You mean it?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much! My name is Sofie.”

“Sofie, that’s a beautiful name. My friend Brynjolf-” she gestured to the man beside her “-and I have some business in Windhelm for a few more days, but you’ll be staying in Candlehearth Hall with us until we leave.”

***

That evening, as Minerva and Brynjolf returned to the room they had rented in Candlehearth, Sofie walked in clutching Minerva’s hand. The bed in the room they rented had originally only been intended for two. Without a word, Brynjolf set himself up on the floor with one of the extra furs that they’d been using during the travel.

“Mister Brynjolf?” Sofie sounded uncertain.

“Don’t worry about me, lass. You deserve a good night’s rest,” he answered easily, affectionately ruffling her hair before he set to unlacing his outer coat. Minerva’s heart swelled in her chest. She pressed a kiss to Brynjolf’s cheek and helped Sofie get comfortable in the bed. She tried not to think too hard about how long it must have been since the girl had been able to sleep in a proper bed with furs to keep her warm. Minerva lay next to her on the bed and gently brushed the girl’s hair from her face as she settled in to sleep. An old Nord lullaby came to mind, and she sang softly, her low alto drifting through the room.

“Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a river full of memory. Sleep, my darling, safe and sound, for in this river all is found. In her waters, deep and true, lie the answers and a path for you. Dive down deep into her sound, but not too far or you’ll be drowned. Yes, she will sing to those who hear, and in her song, all magic flows. But can you brave what you most fear? Can you face what the river knows? Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a mother full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. When all is lost, then all is found.” Sofie drifted off easily to sleep and Minerva kissed her temple.

“I haven’t heard that in a long time,” Brynjolf whispered.

“My mother sang it to me when I was a child,” she answered.

“Stay here with the lass. I’ll check the mark’s locks.”

“Are you sure?”

“Aye. Let her sleep. I’ll be back.”

[minyocs]

A Promise Kept

When Minerva had left Riften with the excuse of having ‘personal matters’ to attend, nobody had batted an eye. As long as she continued to bring money into the Guild, she could do as she pleased. She had only been gone for a week before Brynjolf spotted her in the market, selling off a piece of armor that she would never wear herself. It must have been enchanted for her to even consider picking it up. An unfamiliar Redguard boy stood at her side, and Brynjolf figured he must have been another poor orphan who had been dropped into Grelod’s questionable care. Minerva finished her trade, pocketed her gold, and turned to the boy, handing him a handful of Septims. She seemed to catch sight of Brynjolf, the gentle smile on her lips spreading into a grin, as she stood and rested an easy hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Brynjolf, I’d like you to meet Alesan,” Minerva said as she approached. “His father passed away not long ago, and he was working in the mines outside Dawnstar. Alesan, this is Brynjolf. He’s a very good friend of mine. If you ever have any trouble and I’m not around, you ask for him by name.”

“Yes, Ma,” the boy answered. Brynjolf somehow managed to keep his jaw from falling straight down to the Flagon. Instead, he knelt to be at eye level with Alesan and extended his hand.

“Good to meet you, lad. You look like a tough one,” he said with a smile. Alesan shook his hand with a good, strong grip. Someone had taught him well. “That’s a man’s handshake.” Alesan grinned at him. High-pitched screams and laughter echoed from nearby, where the children from Honorhall Orphanage had begun a game of tag. Alesan looked up to Minerva expectantly.

“Go on and play,” she answered before he could ask. “Iona will call you to supper in an hour. Mind her.”

“Thanks, Ma!” Brynjolf stood as he watched the boy run off to make new friends in the city. He crossed his arms loosely over his chest and chanced a glance at Minerva. She wore a gentle smile.

“The Guild’s no place to raise a child, lass,” he told her, quietly enough that passersby wouldn’t overheard.

“He won’t be in the Guild. He’s going to have the chance to be a child for once.”

“Was this the personal matter you left on?” Minerva nodded.

“I was friends with his father when we were young. When I received word that he was dying and in Dawnstar, I knew where I needed to be.”

“Don’t you think-”

“I had a promise to keep.” And that was the end of the matter.

[minyocs]

Live a New Life

Horingr Argersson was dead. At least, that would be the story from here on out. After escaping Helgen with a member of the Imperial Army, Horingr slowed his pace and let the other man head off without him. A dragon roared far in the distance before disappearing completely from sight. Horingr had never cared for the politics of the war between the Stormcloaks and Imperials. He had spent most of his time in the College of Winterhold, delving into his studies of the illusionary arts. Being a Nord in the northernmost parts of Skyrim had made it easy to blend in and go unnoticed while he worked. But then he’d been caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, stopping through Darkwater Crossing on his way to a research site, and captured as if he were a traitor himself.

That old life was over. It was time to start anew.

As he walked, his form shifted. The body became more slender and shapely, breasts and hips expanding enough to fit the new shape. The face changed, losing the beard and hard jawline for something more angular and fair. The armor didn’t fit quite right anymore, but considering it was stolen off of a dead Imperial during the escape, it wouldn’t matter much. As the body became more feminine, the rest of the features filled in. She needed to be someone the Imperial Army wouldn’t think twice about traveling across Skyrim. A Breton would do nicely; she had not been the race of her mother in a long time. Her ears took a slight point and she grew her copper hair out past her shoulders and down her back. Minerva — no family name —  took form before she had even walked thirty paces from the mouth of the cave she’d escaped through. Her new face was completed with a tattoo of a thin green vine that snaked over her brow and down her temples. She’d need to check her reflection for the finer details, but her new life had begun.

Min had never known another like them, one able to change their face and skin as others change their clothes. There had been a few tomes in the College of Winterhold about people like them, called Changelings by the Nords, but little research had truly been conducted. It seemed they were a member of a largely unknown race in Tamriel. The legends in the tomes said that Changelings were believed to be touched or cursed by Mephala, unable to reveal their true nature to any for fear of persecution. Min didn’t know the truth, but didn’t particularly care where they came from. Their nature made it easy to change when it was needed, and hide when things got too hot. They had spent the past two years as Horingr and had quite enjoyed that time learning the ways of magic. It was a shame that life needed to end so abruptly.

Now, Minerva would be the primary persona, a Breton who needed to get as far away from here as possible. She would not be meeting Hadvar in Riverwood as he’d requested. She would skirt around the village and make her way east, toward Riften. She had heard, as Horingr, that there were always good places to hide and lay low in Riften. It was time to test that theory.

[minyocs]

Name: Min/Minerva  Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Age: 28   Occupation: Adventurer/Professional Thief  Species: Changeling Gender: Genderfluid (they/them pronouns as Min, she/her pronouns as Minerva)  Significant Other: Brynjolf Family: She adopts both Alesan (from Dawnstar) and Sofie (from Windhelm) Physical Description: In their true form, they has very blank, totally white features. Their skin is a milky white, as is their hair and eyes. Around their eyes, there is a natural dark grey smokey ring. Their body is very thin and lithe, almost a bit gaunt. They do have feminine breasts, but very small, and their body could easily be seen as androgynous. As Minerva, she has fair skin and long, coppery hair with golden-brown eyes. She has a facial tattoo of thin vines that loop around her cheeks, up her temples, and over her forehead. She has a much more stereotypically feminine body, with rounder facial features and only slightly pointed ears (picture is a bit exaggerated). Personality: (following a 1-2-3 Model). Value - Family. Flaws - Insecure and Unpredictable . Traits - Passionate, Sincere, and Gentle. They normally hide much of themselves under different personas. Minerva is the closest to Min’s true self they have been in a very long time.  Sexuality: Pansexual  Backstory: Min was born to a Breton woman, who hid them away from birth because of their ghostly appearance. Their mother was the only person who ever saw Min in their true form. As soon as they learned how, they started taking on the forms and faces of other people as a means of hiding what they really were. Min spent their life up to the story start changing faces and personas as needed to continue to survive. Prior to the opening of the story, Min was living as a male Nord Illusionist in the College of Winterhold by the name of Horingr Argersson. He was passing through Darkwater Crossing on his way to a research site when he was captured along with the Stormcloaks and dragged off to Helgen. Ongoing Story: After the dragon attack at Helgen, Min decides that as far as they are concerned, Horingr died at Helgen, and that was how it would be for the rest of the world. They needed to become someone the Imperials wouldn’t look too closely at, and shifted into a Breton female named Minerva. Minerva completely avoids going to Riverwood and instead decides that she needs to get as far away from all of this dragon bullshit as possible. Wearing Imperial armor that she picked up in Helgen, she heads east. Along the way, she skirts through different locations (basically adventuring as she goes), and eventually makes her way to Riften. By now, she’s gotten quite skilled at different thief-related skills and catches Brynjolf’s eye the moment she enters the city. After a brief “trial”, she joins the Thieves’ Guild.   While in Riften, she will end up doing the necessary things to buy the Honeyside (thus being Thane of Riften). After buying her home in Riften, she receives word of a friend of hers (as a previous persona) is dying in Dawnstar and leaving a son behind. She leaves on ‘personal business’ to adopt Alesan. While completing various jobs for the Guild, she will come across Sofie in Windhelm and adopt her as well. Over the course of the Thieves’ Guild quests, she begins having feelings for Brynjolf and have a fair share of teasing, flirting banter. Prior to going to the Snowveil Sanctum, Minerva will reveal her true nature to Bryn, as she feels like she owes him that before things get much more serious. He’s not entirely certain of where he stands/how he feels, so they leave off on a not great note when she goes and Mercer tries to kill her. They make up when she returns. When she’s forced to go to Whiterun to deal with the Honningbrew Meadery, she’ll have to deal with some dragon-related shit. So she’ll find out that she’s Dragonborn at some point through the course of things and also have to talk with Brynjolf about that. Funny enough, he probably handles that better than her being a Changeling.  Likes: Pretty gems, flowers, adventuring, but also the simple domestic life when she’s home. Dislikes: Draugr, fucking Frostbite spiders, Thalmor, the Civil War  Strengths:  Archery, Illusion Magic, Stealth Weakness: She struggles to truly connect with people.

Misc. Questions: Favorite color: Dark green  Kind of clothing: When not in her Guild armor, she likes to wear nicer clothes. She will occasionally wear a dress, but is more likely to be in fitted trousers/leathers with a fine shirt (similar to picture)   What element would they be?: Water  Theme Song: “Happy” by P!nk Alignment: Chaotic Neutral   Special skills/talents: Exceptionally good at stealth and lockpicking, as well as illusion magic. Patience level: Moderately high  Weapon: Bow and arrow whenever possible. She keeps a couple daggers on hand for when she’s in a pinch. Nationality: Though they are a Changeling, Min actually is a Breton by their mother’s heritage.  Religious and to what extent?: She will pray to the Aedra, but is not extremely religious. She will end up making a deal with Nocturnal, just as an effect of becoming a Nightingale.  If your character has a significant other, what would their song be?: “Sinners” - Lauren Aquilina Languages spoken: the common tongue, some of the dragon language, some elvish Wears jewelry?: Only if it has a useful enchantment. Close friends: She considers Delvin to be one of her best friends in the Guild. Becomes rather close to Karliah after all is said and done. Sworn Enemy: Alduin, Mercer  Hogwarts house: Slytherin.

[minyocs]

Name: Lilith Novak Fandom: Broadchurch

[minyocs]

Name: Phoebe Miller Fandom: Dnd/Tal’Dorei

[minyocs]

Ielenia “Lena” Erenaeth

For my upcoming Waterdeep/Mad Mage campaign.