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

Speaking with Silence

WBE: 1,770
WAE: 3,151

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((19th of Frostfall, 4E 202))

Icy wind buffeted roughly against my face, and I wished absently for a kind of protection against the weather besides string natural resistances. It was cold enough to freeze a Nord outside. The open patches on my armor burned with the snow, the frigid temperatures confusing my nerves. My teeth chattered, and I tried focusing on warm thoughts. Honey mead, fire, Ragged Flagon... A thought struck me. Brynjolf. A shock ran through my limbs, and I tried forcing the feeling down. It remained, leaving me to wonder-- why did he matter all of the sudden?

-

"Lass, don't you dare!" I held a bowl of rotten eggs over his bed, a smile stretching across my face. He'd lunged for me, but I simply tipped the bowl ever so slightly.

"Ah, ah!" I'd laughed in his face, ready to dump it over. "You tackle me, this comes down!" Brynjolf had pursed his lips, trying to think his way out of the situation. How had we gotten to that point? Only the gods knew.

"What'll it take, lass?" He'd tried a bargaining system, which I hadn't been interested in.

"Become my slave, Brynjolf. Be my slave forever more!" I'd tried to imitate an evil laugh and prepared to overturn the bowl. I should have known not to, but I couldn't resist. So here came one of the few times Bryn had managed to get the better of me. In the nick of time, he'd swatted the bowl up and coated my entire body with the horrid-smelling eggs. "BRYNJOLF!" I'd shrieked. The only reply I got was laughter from my friend, wiping at the nasty sludge covering my face. "You scamp-ass son of a bitch, I swear to the gods I'm going to kill you!"

The rest of the day had consisted with what amounted to hide-and-seek, with me chasing after Bryn, then trying to find him when he'd hidden himself away. In the end, we'd called a truce-- so long as both of us vowed to never go near eggs ever again in our lives.

-

Another snow-filled gust whipped at me, bringing my attention back to cursing the gods. "Couldn't K-Karliah have killed Gallus somewhere w-w-warmer?" I stammered, exasperated. My tongue was all but frozen. My eyes scanned the landscape, searching for the irksome Breton. I'd been waiting outside the thrice-be-damned dungeon for the better part of an hour waiting for him, and if he didn't show up soon, then "pissed" would be an understatement as to how I'd be reacting. Mercer Frey, I swear to the Nine that if this is a wild goose chase, I will personally take you to Ancient's Ascent and feed you to the dovah, I thought crossly.

"Good, you're finally here." I jumped two feet into the air at the sudden sound of his voice. He grinned toothily at my dismay.

"Gods, Mercer!" The snow had quieted his footsteps, and I was fairly sure that ice had formed inside of my ears while I waited for the idiot.

"Well, while I waited for you to get here, I scouted the ruins," he informed me, running a hand over the large ornate iron door. "I'm certain Karliah is still inside." For some reason, his claim rubbed me the wrong way. Perhaps it was simply my agitation over waiting for Mercer when he'd been inside all along.

"What? You didn't try handling the situation? Did you even see her?" I snarled, and the Guildmaster narrowed his eyes. At that precise moment, I didn't care what Karliah did, I only cared about how goddamn cold I'd managed to get because of him. That accursed Breton...

"No, I found her horse... I've taken care of it. She won't be using it to escape." Oh. That explained the dead equine on the outer edge of Snow Veil Sanctum. "Let's get moving. I want to catch her inside while she's distracted. Take the lead." I curved my lips down, not liking his command. I hated being led during any kind of partnered job, but there was something wrong about him asking me to lead the way.