Moonlight's Embrace (A Skyrim Fanfic) (ORIGINAL)

Dampening Spirits

Note: I think this is obvious, but I'll say it anyways. The dialogue in this story will not always match up to the game. Some passages are identical, others are entirely my own creation. Also... uh... I describe the thrill of lycanthropy and eating a human's heart SUPER in depth here. It's fun, but definitely more PG-13 than this story has been so far. :P WOO I GET TO USE MY FAVORITE WORD! (Mastication suckers!)(It means chewing/grinding with teeth, get your mind out of the gutter)

WBE (Words before edit): 1,562
WAE (Words after edit): 4,882

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((2nd of Frostfall, 4E 202))

I had no desire to return to the Ragged Flagon before I set off. There was no way to tell what my fellow thieves would say, and I didn't want to see more frustration in their eyes. If my mission failed, if I ran from everything once more, I wanted the last image of them to be their concern-- petty as it was.

What in Oblivion are you thinking?! I scolded myself, handing over the money to buy a ride to Whiterun. They don't matter. What remained in my head was alternating visions of the Guild and the Companions. A failed mission had rid me of the desire to remain in the Companions, a moment of dishonor so great it had shaken me to the core and leeched out the spark of excitement I yearned for. A failed mission for the Guild had just as much potential to drive me out, regardless of any inhibitions. 

I pressed my lips together, not liking the thoughts I was stuck with. Unfortunately, the silence offered too much time for going over every little mistake I'd ever made. For the next six hours, I thought of nothing but betrayal, dishonor and my foolish arrogance. 

...

The Bannered Mare was almost completely empty when I walked through its doors, thinking about how the Guild required me to travel to Whiterun too often. The only person I didn't recognize was a single fellow in the far back of the kitchen, chugging a full mug of mead. He matched the description I'd been given by Maven, though he didn't seem to appreciate my presence once I approached.

"Can't a man drink in peace?" he slurred, giving me as sharp a glare that a drunk man could.

"Maven Black-Briar sent me here about Sabjorn," I informed him, hoping he wasn't too tipsy to pay attention. Thankfully, he lit up at my explanation, wiping the golden drops of mead from his mouth.

"Oh, it's you!" He shifted in his seat and stuck out a hand, which I slowly shook. "Mallus Maccius. Well, as I'm sure Maven said, Honningbrew Meadery needs to be put out of business." 

I nodded to confirm his assumption and followed it with a question. "How am I supposed to do that?" Mallus leaned back and gave me a once-over. It felt almost like an insult, as if I didn't look up to the task. 

"I'm going to keep this short, because we have a lot to do. Honningbrew's owner, Sabjorn, is about to hold a tasting for Whiterun's Captain of the Guard, and we're going to poison the mead." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. I made a circular motion with my hand when he didn't explain further.

"Do you have the poison?" I spoke slowly, just in case the drunken bastard couldn't understand me. Mallus shook his head from side to side, and his words were bunched together when he finally managed to reply. Hell, I'm the one who can't understand you.

"No, no. That's the beauty of the whole plan. We're going to get Sabjorn to give it to us." I automatically snorted in disbelief, thinking the man crazy. What fool would give someone the means to destroy their life? I relayed my doubts to Mallus.

"Do you expect me to be able to stroll into Honningbrew Meadery and say--" I deepened my voice to show I was making a mockery. "Hey, would you be so kind to give me poison so I can ruin your business? Thanks, mate!" Mallus scowled at my derogatory tone.