Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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Mead and Sympathy M!DB/Brynjolf 2/6

[(Anonymous)]

Brynjolf didn’t say anything, but he nodded to let Dyce know he was still listening. Dyce drank, marshalling his thoughts.

“I respected him. I looked up to him, that’s all. He was so skilled; I felt, I felt joy that there was someone who could do what he did. I didn’t know about the Skeleton Key, so he showed me what I thought was impossible was not. I wanted to learn from him, I wanted him to respect me as a thief. I trusted him - up to a point.”

“And you paid the price.”

Dyce shrugged, “Yeah. That’s what happens. It’s not gonna stop me. Every time Vex ties me up, hell, this conversation right here. It all comes back to trust. When you come down to it, Mercer was a good leader. Aside from-”

“Emptying out the vault.”

“Yeah, that. He kept everyone in line, got us a patron, he didn’t threaten us like a bandit chief. When I walked in here for the first time, this place felt like a home - not my home, not yet, but Mercer was part of that. A lying, cheating part, but we’re thieves, Bryn, what can you expect?”

“This was not how I expected this conversation to go.”

Dyce laughed, “You and me both. I think Mercer was played. Oh, he did his share, I’m not excusing him, but still.”

“Played by who?”

Dyce nodded in the direction of Nocturnal’s statue. “Who do you think? He was a thief’s thief. Yeah, she punished him eventually; most of the time she punished the rest of us. On some level, I think she approved. That’s what Daedric Princes are like.”

Brynjolf huffed unhappily into his drink. “I’m not sure what I think about this whole business. I never figured myself a cultist. And the others don’t know what to think either. I’m not sure I like the way Karliah organised things without consulting the rest of us.” He stared moodily at the statue. “And it’s too late now.”

Dyce grinned, “It’s never too late. I think we need to stop taking things so seriously.” He put down his drink and pawed through the clutter on the table, until he found a stick of charcoal.

“Dyce,” Brynjolf said in a warning tone. “You sure you know what you’re doing, lad?”

“Aw, what she gonna do? I’m not her pet anymore.” He grinned and walked over to the statue. He looked around the room, and then lithely lept into the Daedra’s arms. He wrapped his legs around her waist to steady himself and then applied the charcoal liberally to her upper lip.

Brynjolf watched and tried not to laugh.

“Does she need any other improvements while I’m up here?” Dyce called.

“A beard?”

“Oh. Good call.” He added a goatee before hopping back down and returning the charcoal to where he found it.

“Karliah’s going to scrub that off as soon as she sees it,” Byrnjolf pointed out.

“Yeah, but as long as some of the others see it first, my work is done.”

They laughed and drank, and opened the second pair of bottles.

“What are we going to do about the guild, lad?”

Dyce groaned and sat on the floor, with his back to the wooden side of the desk. “I don’t know.”

Brynjolf sat down beside him, leather creaking as he crossed his legs. “The guild needs direction. We need a leader.”

“Those two are not necessarily the same thing. We need to decide what the guild is. Are we a cult or a criminal organisation? If we’re one, Karliah can be our high priestess, if we’re the other, why not just take orders from Maven?”

“Because we’re neither of those things - or not merely those things - and you know it. I don’t like this cult business; reminds me of the Brotherhood.”

“Why don’t you do it then?” Dyce asked. “You’ve got experience.”

Brynjolf leaned his head back against the side of the desk, “I’ve given it a lot of thought. All these ledgers and dealing with Maven- I recruit people, I keep people happy, but I can’t discipline them.”

“Well I can’t do it,” Dyce said. “I’d be even worse than you; half the guild’s seen me naked.” He smirked over the bottle, “And the other half want to.”