My Random Skyrim Stories

Sword Thief (11) A Chance Encounter

Vilkas was lost in thought almost his entire trip to Riften. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a silly sense of happiness and dread at the same time...
Ysabyth had gotten out of bed in time to see him off, and had even let him kiss her hand without pulling away or looking startled. That had put a happy, light feeling in his chest... but Vilkas noticed a little too late that Farkas was in the hall with Athis and Torvar, and his brother had seen the whole exchange.
Vilkas had a pretty good guess Farkas was going to tease both of them mercilessly... and he was desperately hoping that wouldn't keep Ysabyth from going with him on their next job.
Vilkas was also a little surprised with himself... at how quickly she had won him over once he let go of his grudge... if she hadn't run off with his sword, he might have been head-over-heals for her in the first place... which was an unusual idea for Vilkas...
He had tried his luck at courting a few women in the past... it wasn't uncommon for an attractive woman would catch his eye... but all of those never made it past the first few flirtatious interactions before Vilkas found the woman either had some quirk that annoyed him, or that she absolutely bored him in conversation. That, along with his temper, had earned him the reputation of being a bit of an asshole.

But as far as Vilkas could tell so far, the only thing about Ysabyth that put him off was the thieving... and that was all behind her now... she'd not only promised him, but had promised the gods themselves that she wasn't a thief anymore. Not to mention her explanation of how she'd ended up a thief was something Vilkas felt was forgivable...
He knew he wasn't perfect himself... he especially wasn't going to hold her past against her if she was willing to overlook his beast blood...
And she certainly didn't bore him... her stories fascinated him, and she could spar with him like no one else. For most of their lives Farkas had been the only one Vilkas could train all-out with, and visa-versa. Vilkas was pretty sure he'd enjoy sparring with Ysabyth even if he had no attraction to the woman. She was fun to fight, and Vilkas was pretty sure she could actually beat him, which was not something he admitted often.
He wondered if he'd ever get to see her fight a dragon... or better yet, help her fight a dragon... by Ysmir, he hoped he would...

Vilkas made it to Riften after two nights camping. He never slept well on the road, the sounds of innocent wildlife begging to be hunted always kept him on edge. Trying to ignore the urge to hunt always made him grumpy, and he was in a relatively bad mood by the time he reached the Riften gates.
He was so grumpy he'd almost gotten in a fight with the guard who'd attempted to charge him a visitor's tax at the gate... fortunately the guard had been clearly intimidated by him and very hastily backed down when Vilkas argued.
Once he got into town it didn't take long to track down the likely location of his client's stolen heirloom— some old mace that Vilkas was pretty sure was worth less than they were paying him to retrieve it, but that wasn't his business. The mace was likely in the possession of a group of bandits that had set up just north of the city— that was something Vilkas could handle... he always liked it when he got paid to do what amounted to a service to society... like dispatching a bunch of murderous, thieving cowards.

Typically, Riften was a town Vilkas preferred to avoid, so his plan was to be on his way as soon as he found the information he needed. He was on his way back to the city gates when a reddish color caught the corner of his eye. The same color of Ysabyth's hair...
He felt a little silly for stopping and turning as excitedly as he did. He knew it couldn't be Ysabyth... he would have caught her scent much sooner in his trip if she had followed him, and he certainly would have noticed her scent in the market...
Instead, Vilkas turned to see a Nord man, probably about fifteen or so years older than he was, wearing fine merchants' clothes, tending one of the stalls. He had shoulder length, red hair, the exact same shade as Ysabyth's.
Curiously, Vilkas headed back to the market. The man was harking some supposedly amazing elixir that could do everything from grow back a missing limb to allow one to instantly learn the secrets of the universe. Vilkas resisted the urge to outwardly roll his eyes.
As Vilkas approached the man looked up at him with distinctly hazel green eyes, and Vilkas was suddenly very sure he had an idea how Ysabyth seemed to be built like a Nord but otherwise appeared to be a small Breton...
The man gave him a quick appraising look.
"Ah, a Companion," he greeted with a salesman's smile, "can I interest you in a bottle of my falmer blood elixir? It works wonders after a hard battle!"
"I'm actually interested in some information," Vilkas shook his head, quickly trying to think how to approach what he wanted to know...
The red-headed Nord narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I don't deal in free information, lad," he said warningly.
"I can work with that," Vilkas shrugged casually, "I'm curious what you know of a woman who introduced herself as Ysabyth of Riften..." Vilkas watched carefully for the man's reaction and was not disappointed.
He was definitely a practiced liar, skilled at keeping his composure, he looked relatively calm and suspicious as his brow furrowed, but Vilkas heard from his pulse that that question had made him anything but calm. He glanced around, Vilkas assumed looking to see if anyone would over-hear them, then he looked back to Vilkas with a suspicious glare.
"What's the likes of you want with my little Ysa?"
"It was just a casual inquiry," Vilkas replied with an innocent smirk. That clearly made the man less comfortable.
"If she's got a bounty we can pay it," he said firmly, "and she's the Dragonborn besides that, any Jarl in Skyrim would surely pardon whatever—"
"It's nothing like that," Vilkas interrupted with a laugh, "she's a friend. I take it you're her father then?"
The redhead looked utterly shocked at the blunt question, but still watched him with a mistrustful glare. He glanced around again before looking back to Vilkas, and his eyes had an angry glint to them that Vilkas was positive he recognized.
"Aye, that's a possibility," he admitted.
"A possibility?" Vilkas repeated in amused disbelief.
The man scowled. "Aye, a possibility," he repeated, "I've suspected since I learned she was born, but her mother never said, so I could never be certain."
Vilkas raised an eyebrow skeptically at that and the man scowled more.
"I've still done what I could to look out for her though," he added glaring at Vilkas as if he expected to be challenged on that statement.
"Ah, so I take it you're Brynjolf," Vilkas replied.
That made the man raise his eyebrows in mild surprise. "Aye," he nodded slowly.
"She told me you were the only one who'd always been there for her," Vilkas elaborated sincerely, "she just never mentioned you were her father."
Brynjolf seemed to deflate a little at that. "I'm not sure she knows," he admitted a little sheepishly, "I'm sure she suspects, but we've never discussed it..."
"I see," Vilkas nodded. "When was the last time you saw her?" He asked curiously.
Brynjolf narrowed his eyes again, but now he looked more sad than angry... still just as mistrustful though...
"I said I don't deal in free information, lad," he scowled, "you want any more out of me, you either pay with coin or information of your own."
"What information are you interested in?" Vilkas shrugged, and he couldn't help a little bit of a cocky smirk...
"Start with who are you," Brynjolf growled, "and why you're asking about my lass..."
Vilkas held up his hands in a gesture showing he had nothing to hide, "Vilkas of the Companions," he answered, "and honestly, I was only passing through and noticed the family resemblance, so I was curious."
"How do you know her?" Brynjolf asked, still suspicious.
"She's joined us," Vilkas replied, "she defeated the World Eater, and now she's a Companion; an honorable shield-sister."
"She... she's really doing alright then?" He asked, eyebrows raised in hopeful surprise.
"Better than alright," Vilkas nodded, "she brings honor to the Compnions... not to mention plenty of coin."
Brynjolf smiled at that.
"That's good to hear, lad. I..." he paused with a sigh, "when she told me she had to leave our organization to face the dragons... I knew she was done with the business, but I didn't realize she wouldn't be coming home at all once it was over." He shook his head sadly and Vilkas suddenly felt less smug, and more sorry for the man...
"I can tell her, when I get home..." Vilkas offered, trailing off uncertainly... he wasn't sure what he was actually offering... he didn't really want Ysabyth coming back to Riften... but he didn't want to keep her from actual family who cared about her...
"I'd appreciate that," Brynjolf sighed, "tell her... the business is getting along fine, but... her old man misses her."
"Will do," Vilkas nodded earnestly.
He felt relieved it didn't sound like he expected her to return to the guild, but that could be a rouse...
Vilkas decided he'd definitely want to come with her if she returned to Riften... just to be safe...
He bid a polite farewell to Brynjolf and got back to his job, setting off for the bandit hideout. He had a little more to think about for the rest of his trip.