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

The End

WBE: 576
WAE: 1,251

...

((4th of Morning Star, 4E 209))

I walked along in Solitude, nodding to Jordis as I passed her. Several years had gone by since I'd ended my contact with the Guild, and though I didn't think of them daily, that didn't mean that I wasn't struck by remorse every time I did. This was a routine for me. As the Thane of multiple holds, I would travel about and complete different bounties for the Jarls.

After leaving the Guild, I'd gone straight to the Companions, where I was greeted with a mixture of disdain and joy. Sansa and Athis were the most displeased, obviously having guessed where I'd been. Sansa had always been entirely intolerant of any kind of law-breaking, and wouldn't be caught dead picking a lock or pocket.

Here, in Solitude, I didn't manage to return to the Blue Palace before bumping into a hooded stranger. "My apologies," I murmured, holding out my hand to steady them. However, the figure inside, I noticed, was no stranger at all. With a gasp, I drew back the hood.

"Karliah?" Wrinkles were now clearly seen in her face, and she walked with a slight limp. The Dunmer looked as if she'd aged fifty years in the six that had gone by. 

"There's something you have to see," she rasped, coughing heavily. "We need you."

I licked my lips, feeling more unsure of myself than I'd been since I left. "I can't. I left that life behind me." Karliah nodded slowly, seemingly in pain.

"But this is different," she insisted.

"How?"

"You need to be there." The urgency in her tone caught my attention, and my resolve crumbled. With that, I followed Karliah away. Neither of us said a word.

...

((8th of Morning Star, 4E 209))

I walked through Riften. After six years, it felt so foreign regardless of the fact it had once been home. "Where are we going?" She slowly walked me to the back of the church, and too late I realized she was leading me to the cistern's secret entrance. I stopped just before she pressed the button to open the false coffin. "I'm not going in there." Abruptly, I turned away and began to leave. Panic had begun to fill my chest, and I let out a whimper when her hand gripped mine. 

"Russet." Her soft whisper had become a stern command. "Follow me. Now." For someone who looked as wizened and thin as she, her strength was surprising. I had no strength to pull away, but somewhere within me, perhaps I simply wanted to follow.

Each footstep took a hundred years. Each breath took a thousand millennia. Each heartbeat took an eternity.

Karliah pushed the button to let us in. I wondered how I would be received, to where the fear built up further. I wore a thin set of armor, nothing like that of the Nightingale's or Guild's. I felt out of place the second I stepped down the ladder and into the cistern. 

Niruin stared at me, somewhere between confusion and disappointment. Sapphire looked like she was going to cry. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Thrynn and Rune exchanged a glance before turning their backs.

"I don't belong here anymore," I whispered to Karliah, nervous to be walking along my olden paths.

"But we are connected by the shadows still. You are a Nightingale, and always will be." I continued to trail behind her, ducking ineffectually to hide myself from my former Guildmembers.

The true shock came when Karliah stopped outside the Guildmaster's room. Vex and Delvin sat just outside in creaky wooden chairs, sorrow abundantly clear on their faces. The second they looked up, I had to avert my gaze so they would not notice my shame.

"So... you managed to get her to return," Vex said simply. "How did I know that she would return for him, but not for us?" There was something painful behind her words.

"She knew nothing of him. She came of her own accord," Karliah replied darkly, stepping aside. I turned to Karliah, uncertain of what to do. The Dunmer only closed her aged violet eyes, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. The heaviness in my chest grew with every step, and as I stood in the doorway, I knew why I was here.

I saw him there, weak and thin. Sweat dripped down his pallid face, and his breath came in ragged gasps as though he couldn't find the will to continue. Emotions rose in me that I'd pushed down for years, and seeing him like this, I couldn't help but recall the affection I'd held for him, to rekindle that flame.

Ever so slowly, he turned his head to me and smiled with cracked lips.

"Hello, lass..." He fell into a coughing fit, blood flying from his mouth. I all but ran to his bedside, desperate to help. 

"Bryn?" His eyes closed, and I grabbed a piece of cloth to wipe the specks of blood from his neck and mouth. "I'm here, Brynjolf." My fingers wound with his, and I didn't know how I'd ever left him, never fought for him before. 

"He insisted on seeing you," Delvin muttered behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "He said he wanted to see his lass one more time."

"I'm sorry, lass," Brynjolf rasped. I stroked his cheek softly, the skin far too hot. Despite that, he had been covered with two blankets and was shivering. It became clear that he wasn't just ill, he was...

"So am I," I responded weakly, bringing his hand to my lips. 

"What do you have to be sorry about?" He started to cough once more, and once the fit stopped, his breath came in shorter and shorter gasps. Concern struck me like lightning

"For leaving you." I stroked his messy hair rhythmically. "I'm sorry for leaving you."

"You... you gave this Guild a purpose again," he choked out. 

"Don't speak," I urged, squirming around. "Save your strength." He laughed humorlessly, the air catching in his throat.

"Don't fool yourself, lass. We... both know I'm not going to live this out."

"You can, Bryn, you can do this." He quit arguing with me, and his once-clear emerald eyes clouded over.

"Lass, I... never should have... doubted you..." He trembled while groaning in pain. "And it was my thrice-be-damned pride... that stopped me... from chasing you down... and saying what... I never did... what needed... to be said."

"Brynjolf..." 

"I should have told you... every day... from the moment I met you." Tears welled up in my eyes as his already-feeble voice grew softer with every word. 

"Bryn, I..."

"I..." he took a deep breath. "I love you... I have always loved... my Russet Nightingale." I leaned forward and slowly pressed my lips to his in a final kiss, my tear trailing onto his blanched face. By the time I pulled away, the air had left his chest, his soul left his body. 

I sat paralyzed, unable to process what had just occurred. His grip on my hand let go, setting it in: Brynjolf was dead. He'd told me what I needed to hear, but it was too little and too late. Collapsing over him, I began to sob. Right there, next to the body of my beloved Brynjolf, I cried harder than I ever had in my life. The crushing anguish in my heart was tearing me asunder.

Brynjolf...

Brynjolf.