SKYRIM ONESHOTS AND IMAGINES

BRYNJOLF- BITCH

The first impression you had of Riften.. wasn't great. Looked like ass, smelt like ass, and even the people themselves were asses. Not a great impression.

You were in Riften to look for Esbern, per Delphine's command. You tried asking around to see if anyone knew anything about him, but people shrugged you off or told you to stay away from "the ratway". You grew frustrated and were appalled at how rude the citizens here were in comparison to how nice people were in Whiterun.

'Brynjolf' you though to yourself as you entered the local inn. Delphine had told you he was your best bet for info and gave you a vague description of the man. Tall, ginger, and with a strange accent. Wasn't that everyone in Skyrim though?

You took a seat at one of the wooden tables in the inn and ordered a drink. This was seeming to be a dead end. You were growing increasingly annoyed at Delphine, and how she only made decisions based on her gut. A voice interrupted your scowling session.

"Never made an honest coin in your life, aye lass?"

You turned to face the voice and set your tankard down. A man in nice blue clothes sat next to you with a smug look on his face. His arms were crossed and he looked as if he knew everything there was to know about you. He had bright red hair, and you immediately recognized him as the Brynjolf guy Delphine mentioned.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, you've not made an honest coin a day in your life, am i right lass?"

You weren't sure if this was his attempt at flirting, or if he was trying to start something. Lucky for you and unlucky for him, you knew how to deal with bastards like him. You pulled out the journal about Esbern you had stolen from the Thalmor and slid it across the table to him.

"Brynjolf, right? I'm actually looking for some old guy- I was told he could be hiding out here."

Brynjolf looked you up and down before picking up and flipping through the jornal. He clicked his tongue and slid the jornal back to you before leaning back in his chair.

"Expecting to get information for free eh? I can tell you're new around here. That's not how this works," He had leaned forward now, and spoke in a softer tone. "I'll need you to do something for me first. You'll be paid for your time."

"What were you thinking?"

The man's eye glistened in excitement as he explained his little scheme for you. Steal some ring off some poor man, and place it onto another man for seemingly no reason. You guessed that he had pissed the wrong people off and it was finally catching up to him.

As much as the call of gold tempted you, you knew this was a bad idea. You had came to Skyrim to escape the life of thieving and murdering, not to get re-hired. Now with the whole dragonborn thing, you felt like being honorable was your duty. Standing up, you gave the man a good pat on his shoulder as you shook your head. You leaned down to his ear to whisper.

"I'm no ones bitch." It was a simple phrase but made Brynjolf shudder in his seat.

Keevara was your savior when she not only let you have a room for a reduced price, but she had revealed the information you had been looking for. She told you that most people who want to hide in Riften flee to the ratway, and that there was a tavern down there, if you were lucky enough to survive.

You rushed outside and quickly made your way down to the lower walkway, where the supposed ratway was. Little did you know that the man who you had turned down the offer to was following you.

He had a good intuition about people and guessed right away that you had a criminal past. From the way you subconsciously made note of where all the exits were, to the way you checked items out to see if they'd be easy to slip into a sleeve or a purse. He could almost read you like a book. He just didn't know the title. Your name. Now you were heading into the ratway, in practically no armor. Brynjolf felt a sense to protect you.