#we got millet (round guy to the left)

[archiepelago]

escape au where everything turns out relatively fine for all of our favorite guys . plus seb gets cats

[tastesoftamriel]

Emergency trip to Riften! (A long tale by Talviel)

[This is my first ever fanfic and I hope you guys enjoy it and let me know what you think! I haven’t done any creative writing in at least 2-3 years so apologies if it sounds a bit clunky. Anyway, happy reading!]

[EDIT! Due to the timeline of my new fics I have written, please note that this takes place on Tirdas, 19th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 207. Sorry if this is a bit confusing but I promise this slots into a chapter that you’ll see in about four weeks!]

I was in Bruma for a week teaching a Hammerfell-style cooking class when a messenger delivered a letter that my mother was ill. Thankfully Bruma is just on the border of Skyrim so I got on my horse and set off straight away.

When I finally arrived in Riften, I was relieved to discover my father had contacted a healer to work on my mother. It turned out she had contracted rockjoint, because apparently she was out in the woods picking mushrooms when a wolf bit her! Thankfully she killed the wolf and suffered no serious injuries otherwise, but needless to say my father and I were peeved she didn’t say anything sooner (damn Imperials and their pride). The good news is that the bite is healing nicely and the worst of the rockjoint should be gone within a week or so, optimistically.

With that taken care of, I decided to wander around town a bit. The first stop was The Bee and Barb. Keerava and I were overjoyed to see each other as I hadn’t been home in over two years. Luckily it was early afternoon, so aside from the lunch regulars (who were surprised to see me), the inn was quiet and we got to spend a few hours exchanging news and gossip. We shared a flagon of mead with Talen-jei (who really only ever tolerated my presence, but was pleasant enough to me), and I was on my way again.

I was strolling through the marketplace when I heard a very familiar “Lass!”. I turned bright red, because of course it was none other than my ex-boss from the Guild, Brynjolf, running yet another scam. He pulled me aside and whispered that his new recruit had never turned up for the heist, so now he was stuck awkwardly selling skeever repellant when some pockets needed picking.

What a moral dilemma. I had promised I’d left my life of crime behind me, but deep down I’ve always been loyal to the Guild, and especially Brynjolf, who had always treated me with nothing but kindness and respect, even after I resigned. It doesn’t help that I’ve been in love with him since I first laid eyes on him either.

So what’s a woman to do? I was dressed as an innocent traveller, so nobody would suspect me. In a matter of minutes, my skilled fingers had lifted two hefty pouches of gold, several pieces of fine jewellery and amulets, a few potions…and a sweetroll (old habits die hard). I tucked my prizes into my worn travel sack and headed down to the cistern to unload the cargo.

Whoever wasn’t on a job basically screeched when they saw me. I was the Guild’s youngest recruit when they picked me up (I was just 16 at the time), and they were astounded to see me as a well-travelled young woman. In fact, I was only 17 during the plight of Alduin and worked with Brynjolf and Karliah to bring the corrupt former head of the Guild, Mercer Frey, down. I exchanged hugs with Sapphire, Rune, Thrynn, and Cynric, the old timers. They introduced me to a fair number of new faces, then hauled me off to The Ragged Flagon.

Vex, Delvin, Tonilia, and Vekel nearly fell off their seats when they saw me. Of course, Vex and Delvin immediately tried to bribe me with jobs, thinking I’d returned for good. The disappointment on their faces when I explained why I was back in Riften made me feel so guilty I almost wished I was back in the Guild. “Well the least you could do then, o cultured one, is to cook us all dinner and save me the effort!” Vekel bellowed. Now that I could happily do.

Apparently the Guild was doing brilliantly. They had a total of 35 members now, and 20 were in Riften at the moment. I scratched my head, wondering how I could pull off a feast at such short notice, but I’d been put in worse situations (one trip to Whiterun had me yanked into the Jarl’s kitchen by two very scared chefs who had apparently been notified two hours before that dignitaries were arriving and a feast for 30 was needed). So I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

Brynjolf came back to see what I had found as I was in the middle of mincing garlic. I gestured to my travel sack, not wanting to get my fragrant hands over everything. He seemed pleased with the loot, but puzzled by the sweetroll. “Is this yours, lass?” He asked. When I blushingly said it was for him, he laughed and gave me a hug, thanking me for the gesture. I nearly fainted right then and there.

Three hours later, I’d accomplished it. A hearty meal for 20, comprised of rabbit millet pilaf, West Weald corn chowder, a Redguard venison pie, and the famous Jerall View Inn carrot cake (one must never omit dessert from a meal!). Vekel rolled out a barrel each of beer and mead, and enough wine to get a village drunk for a week. Sapphire went to round up the stragglers, and soon we were all sitting at The Flagon digging in. I brought news of the world, and the Guild happily told me of the best jobs they’d had since I was gone.

As the night wore on and the booze flowed freely, slowly the Guild members disappeared back to the cistern with full bellies and happy hearts. By two, the only ones left at The Flagon were me, Brynjolf, and Vekel, who had promised to clean up. Brynjolf and I had broken out the bottles of sujamma and matze I’d been hoarding since my last trip to Raven Rock, and were playing “Never have I ever”. Well, we learned a lot of things about each other that night. Drunk and laughing, I leaned my head on Brynjolf’s shoulder and he stroked my hair affectionately. “We’ve missed you, lass.” He said. “I’ve missed you.”

I almost startled myself sober. “You…have?” I stuttered, unable to believe my ears. “Yup.” He said. “You were one of our finest recruits, just…so young. You’ve grown into a fine woman, lass, and even though you’re no longer running with the Guild, I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’re the pride of Riften, in case nobody’s mentioned it yet.”

Vekel cleared his throat, having clearly been eavesdropping on our conversation and seeing where it was heading, even though blockhead me was too drunk to figure it out yet. “Well, you two have a nice night, morning, whatever. I’m off to bed.” He declared loudly, before disappearing home.

I stood up, wobbling. “He’s got a point, it’s getting late. I should probably head back to my parents.” I mumbled. Brynjolf stood up to steady me, his hands unusually tight around my waist. “You needn’t go, lass. Riftweald Manor is still ours, where we store our extra things. Grab a bottle of wine, and let’s go, better than waking everyone in the cistern up.” I grabbed a bottle of Alto wine from the counter. “You know me far too well, Brynjolf.” I giggled, leaning on him for support as we stumbled our way to the manor.

When we got in at last (Brynjolf had left the key behind so we drunkenly had to pick the lock), he gesticulated around, showing me what the Guild had done with the place since I’d been gone. The place was lavish, decorated with the best finds from certain jobs. Maps adorned the walls, pinned with the locations of targets. Large empty chests were everywhere, ready to be filled and brought down to the vault. It was certainly much nicer than when Mercer had left it to rot.

Brynjolf and I sat cross legged on the biggest bed we could find, leaning comfortably on the soft pillows and passing the bottle of wine between us. We talked about nothing in particular, breaking out in fits of laughter for no reason. Even while being drunker than Brenuin in Whiterun, I was both happy and astounded to see the personal side of Brynjolf I had never seen while working for him.

I said something to him, I don’t remember what, and he swatted me over the head with a pillow, and the remnants of the bottle of wine went flying across the room. ��Oi, what is this, the Dark Brotherhood?” I cackled. “You just killed the wine!” “Fuck the wine, fight me you wench!” Brynjolf hollered, hitting me over the head again with the pillow. “Wench? WENCH? Well I never!” I shouted back, grabbing another pillow and whacking him with it. Soon there were feathers everywhere and we were cackling like hagravens. He pulled my hair and I pulled his. Soon we were tumbling across the bed, flailing about and feebly slapping at each other.

Then the unexpected happened. Well, unexpected to me anyway; as I mentioned before I am a blockhead. He grabbed my head and kissed me, hard. Startled, I pulled back. “Brynjolf, what are you doing?“ I stuttered, unable to believe what had just happened. “What I always should have done, lass. Well, since you were a little older, anyway.” I laughed, and leaned in. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you.” “I wouldn’t call this love, lass, but let’s just enjoy tonight, while you’re still here.”

If you’ve made it this far, dear reader, I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on the rest. Needless to say, I stumbled back to my parents’ house sometime the next afternoon with my clothes in disarray, while Brynjolf made his unsteady way back to the cistern. When I got to the house, I was relieved to see my mother was asleep and resting. My father, on the other hand, was sitting at the dining table tinkering with something. He grinned at me widely. “So, the classic Nordic walk of shame. Glad to see you got that from me at least.” He laughed. I groaned and fell into my bed, still thinking about the surreal night before.