Brynjolf's Secret
“Woah lass,” Brynjolf put a hand on Sonin’s shoulder, “I like a drink as much as the next man, but I think you’ve had enough.
It was true. This was her tenth tankard. “It’ll be enough when I can forget.”
“What happened?” Brynjolf’s voice didn’t mask his concern.
“Argis, he-” Sonin could feel tears wanting to spill even though she had no water left to spare, “The dragon.”
“Ah,” Brynjolf could piece together the rest, “Why don’t we go to my quarters? I have something a bit stronger than this swill.”
Sonin shrugged, standing to follow the Nord out of the bar. He led her through the secret passage she had been through only once before. She staggered, relying on Brynjolf’s offered arm to steady herself.
Brynjolf’s quarters were much larger than she would have expected, if she wasn’t too drunk to care. She was led with steady hands to his bed which was mostly hay with a sheet wrapped over it. Still, softer than the stone floor he took her on before.
“Bryn,” Sonin sighed.
“Yes lass?” He turned from his liquor cabinet to face her.
“I’m hot,” she stated.
“Well, yes,” he chuckled, pouring from a blackbriar reserve bottle, “Why don’t you get out of some of those layers? Hm?”
Sonin nodded, thinking it was a good idea. Unabashed from her liquid courage, she stripped straight to her small clothes. Brynjolf choked on his own spit when he turned back around with the drinks in hand.
“Lass?” He chuckled and handed her a full tankard.
Sonin downed the drink and pushed the tankard back into his hands for a refill, “I’m still hot.”
“Well lass, I don’t think you can-”
He shut up as she stripped bare before him. Her body was flushed red and her breathing irregular. She threw herself down on the sheets.
“Lass, you should put some clothes back on,” Brynjolf tossed one of his spare shirts to her, “I won’t take advantage of you drunk like this, but you shouldn’t push my restraint.”
Sonin snorted, “Argis was the last man I slept with.”
Brynjolf raised a brow, “I take it all three of those men lay some claim to you?”
“I guess,” Sonin sighed again, “By the Nine. Bryn, more please.”
“I think you’ve had enough lass,” he sipped from his tankard, watching her slip on his shirt. It just barely covered her plump ass.
“I haven’t forgotten yet,” Sonin sat up and frowned tightly.
“Go to sleep lass. I’ll make sure no one bothers you,” he brushed a hand across her warm cheek and moved to sit down.
“No!” Sonin grabbed his arm, “Please Bryn. Help me forget.”
“Lass, I can’t. You’re drunk,” Brynjolf replied, even though he was sporting one hell of an erection from seeing her in his clothes.
Sonin let out a breath she was holding before laying back down into his bed. It smelt like him, leather, musk, and a slight touch of sewage. She was blessed that the alcohol kept her from dreaming, scared to see Argis in her sleep.
…
“Where is she?” Vilkas’ voice rumbled with the threat of violence.
Dirge simply smiled at the man, “With Brynjolf. That means she won’t be leaving tonight.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Vilkas snapped.
“She looked drunk enough to me,” he shrugged, “Seems like Brynjolf will be keeping her company all night.”
“Take me to him,” Vilkas clenched his jaw.
“No,” Dirge crossed his arms.
“Then let me pass,” Vilkas grabbed at his sword.
Tonilia stepped in before things got violent, “Woah there. You better drop that weapon if you know what’s good for you.”
“Where is Sonin?” Vilkas relaxed his arm.
“Look, I’ll go see if she’s okay. You can’t come though. Stay there,” she commanded.
Tonilia was never one to get jealous when Brynjolf brought women to the Ragged Flagon, but she had never seen him bring one to the guild’s base. It was reckless and she wondered what kind of pull this Sonin had over him. She knocked on Brynjolf’s door.
“Bryn! Got a problem,” she yelled through the heavy wooden door.
Brynjolf cracked it just enough for her to make out a sleeping shape on his bed, “What is it?”
Tonilia was taken aback as Brynjolf never even let her sleep on his bed, and they had been fucking for years. “Sonin has an angry friend looking for her.”
“Ugh,” Brynjolf made a disgruntled noise, looked back at Sonin’s sleeping form, then walked out the door and locked it, “I’ll handle it.”
Tonilia didn’t question him about Sonin, but now she was feeling jealous. Why would Brynjolf be acting so...responsible for this woman? Vilkas was still standing by Dirge, trading glares. His eyes snapped yellow when he saw the red-headed man approach.
“Sonin is fine,” he assured him.
“Bring me to her or bring her here,” Vilkas demanded.
“Now lad, this is my home. You will not be making demands of me,” Brynjolf felt his fingertips brush his daggers, “She’s asleep. I will not wake her. She clearly didn’t want to be bothered by anyone.”
“Damn it,” Vilkas rushed Brynjolf and grasped him by the throat, his nails elongated in his anger. “Where is she?”
Everyone in the Flagon had their weapons drawn and pointed at Vilkas. Brynjolf spoke, trying to free himself of Vilkas’ unnaturally tight grip, “In my bed.” He smirked.
Vilkas tightened like vice, “If you touched her-”
Vilkas was cut off by a strike of lightning that made him shudder and drop Brynjolf. Everyone turned to see a barely covered Sonin, wabbly, in the doorway of their secret entrance. She was panting from the excursion. Vilkas barely managed to sit up from the damp stone, watching a very unsteady Sonin march over to him.
“Vilkas! Go home!” She shouted and pointed a finger in his face.
“Not without you, damn it woman!” He stood up and grabbed her wrist.
“Hey boy,” Brynjolf drew his daggers to protect her, “Let the lass go.”
“Stay out of this thief!” Vilkas pulled Sonin closer. She stumbled into his chest, nearly falling. “What did you give her to make her this way?”
“She did it to herself!” Brynjolf defended himself, moving closer to protect Sonin.
“Let me go,” Sonin weakly tried to free her wrists from Vilkas.
“Love,” Vilkas’ voice grew much softer, “Stop fighting me.”
“Don’t call me that,” Sonin found enough water in her to start crying, “Go.”
“Thief,” Vilkas stated to Brynjolf, “Bring her armor. I’m taking her home.”
“She doesn’t seem to want to go with you lad,” Brynjolf took a defensive stance, “I’m not going to let you take her out of here.”
“Brynjolf!” Vex called to him, “What’s gotten into you? She’s not our problem.”
Brynjolf paled a bit, “She’s-blast it Vex I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Like oblivion you don’t,” Tonilia finally spoke up, “Who is this woman to you Brynjolf?”
“None of your damned business!” Brynjolf would never admit to himself or his crew that he was growing to love her, “Lad, hand her over.”
Vilkas growled at him but stopped as he realised Sonin’s weight became much heavier. She was fast asleep on him, barely standing. Brynjolf stepped forward and took her form from him, Vilkas letting go after seeing how the man looked at her.
“I’ll be back in the morning to take her home,” Vilkas warned, “See to it she is ready.”
“Aye,” Brynjolf carried Sonin in his arms bridal style and walked her back to his bed.