Azalia // Skyrim Fanfiction

Chapter Nine

Brynjolf had never felt as horrid in his life as when Azalia walked away, leaving him standing outside the Bee and Barb. He knew what he had done, and he knew she wouldn't trust him again. In truth, he had felt something quite deep for the white-haired lass, even though he had only spent a month with her. Perhaps he had gone soft, or the lust he felt for the lass had tricked him into thinking he felt something more for her. He wasn't sure. He saw her eyes as she turned from him. Betrayed and hurt.

"Brynjolf?" He heard the soft voice of the Imperial woman, Justine, "Are you coming back in? Malachy won't be back until dawn."

Brynjolf had gone back inside, and every second that passed after that, he thought about Azalia.

A number of days had passed since that happened. Justine had left again, with her husband and Brynjolf felt a slight relief. He had only seen Azalia a few times, collecting her pay from Vex or Delvin for all the jobs she completed. He had caught her eyes a few times, but she never held his gaze.

"Brynjolf," Mercer said from his desk, snapping the Nord from his daydream, "Can you fetch Azalia for me. Maven wishes to speak with her."

Brynjolf only nodded, feeling a clench in his heart at the thought of speaking to her. He strode through the Cistern towards the training room, knowing that she'd be there. Every waking minute, she was either mutilating a dummy or robbing the strongbox of a shop. He was proud of the thief she had became, and the coin she had obtained for the Guild. When he entered, Azalia was practicing her archery, and hitting near or on the bullseye each time. He could not deny that she was extraordinary.

Brynjolf coughed and Azalia lowered her bow, turning to him. Her expression slipped into an emotionless cold mask as soon as she realised it was him.
"...Mercer wishes to speak with you. It's something about Maven wanting to meet with you."

Azalia only nodded and brushed past him as she left the training room. Brynjolf grabbed her wrist. She tugged against him, but turned her face to look back.

"Lass.." He said but she shook her head.

"Don't, Brynjolf," She cut him off before he could even bring the words to his mouth.

"I made a mistake," Brynjolf said, still gripping her wrist.

Azalia pulled her arm from his hold, taking a step back from him.

"Don't worry, Bryn," She muttered, finally bringing herself to look him in his emerald eyes, "It was somebody else's mistake."

Azalia stormed away from the man who made her feel like she had a home. She cursed herself for even giving in to a foolish crush. She inhaled deeply and strode to where Mercer was standing over his desk. She faked a smile as the Breton looked up at her, though she felt transparent. That the pain in her heart was visible to the whole world. If Mercer had known, he did not say.

"Maven wants you, Azalia," Mercer informed, his greyish eyes searching hers. Her smile slipped, as if she could no longer hold it. Mercer watched her intently as he spoke, "She will be in the Bee and Barb tomorrow morning."

Azalia only nodded, offering Mercer a weak smile. She turned away and began to walk from the Breton man, but his voice was loud inside her ears.

"He does not deserve your affection if he is too weak and won't return it."

Azalia turned, looking upon the man as if it was the first time she had laid eyes on him. She smiled sincerely and left Mercer where he stood as she walked into the Ragged Flagon. Everything inside of her screamed for a release, to forget about the events of the days that had passed. How obvious was it to everyone that she had cared for Brynjolf a little more than a friend? She felt like a prize fool. Azalia sold her spare jewles to Tonilla and weighed the heavy bag of gold in her hand, wondering what she could even do with all the coin she was earning. She started with a cool bottle of mead from Vekel. He placed a plate of venison infront of her, urging her to eat up. Azalia thanked him and sat beside Delvin, making idle convirsation.