Imagine having a casual conversation with Brynjolf after a tough job

Originally posted by knightcommanderalenko

A/N: Hey look- Skyrim! Just in time for the Remastered Version- give or take a month or so.

Being Guildmaster for the thieves of Skyrim was rarely an easy task, but if there was one perk (besides the gold) that made the life easier, it was the moments after a job when Brynjolf and you sat at the Ragged Flagon together, either deep in conversation or deep in a profound, comfortable silence.

Brynjolf’s voice was arguably the reason you even got tangled with the Guild in the first place. Nothing he said ever sounded harsh or unpleasant. He could be delivering news of a dragon army attacking Riften and it’d still sound relaxing. It was even nicer to hear when he was praising you for a job well done.

“I still cannot believe you were able to rob that jewel right off his neck.” Brynjolf shook his head as he sat with a bottle of ale on his right hand.
You lightly crossed your arms, “A custom-made gift from the Jarl and two hundred gold from Delvin in one night? I can definitely believe it.” Leaning back, you shot a small smirk Delvin Mallory’s way, shaking the pouch of coins you had won after he bet you couldn’t pull off a theft like that. Delvin snorted and shook his head in disbelief from his seat across the tavern.

“Things have really been looking up. I’ve been hearing whispers from time to time about heists we apparently pulled off. Did you know we stole the high king’s crown?” Brynjolf took a sip of his ale.

“That’s a good thing. That means the people know we’re back and better than ever.” You took a bite of a sweet roll, a mischievous glint in your eye.
“As they should. We’ve gotten back on our feet, regained our hold in Skyrim, and we may even need a second vault to stash all the new treasure coming in,” Brynjolf tapped the ale bottle lightly, “all thanks to you.”

You shrugged, “I do what I have to, but just because I’m the Guildmaster doesn’t mean our success is all my doing.”

“You exposed Mercer Frey’s treachery, returned the Skeleton Key to Nocturnal, and took on countless jobs all over the province. I’d say most of this,” he gestured to the Flagon’s rather pleasant patrons, “is your doing.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Brynjolf. You and Karliah helped put an end to Mercer, and you’ve been a great help, keeping the Guild running while I’m off… adventuring.”

“I’d never sell myself short; you know that. Just accept the praise, alright?”

You smiled, “Fine, but you’d better not start paying me random tributes- you know how often I get stopped on the road by thieves who want to pay me?”  

Brynjolf chuckled, “Sounds like you don’t enjoy the extra gold.”

You put a hand on your chest, “Oh no, I like the gold, but I gotta admit, I still expect them to ask me for all my money.”
“That’s the perk of being Guildmaster. Every thief sees you as their leader- which you are, I suppose. No one with a bit of sense would cross the Guildmaster of the Thieve’s Guild, but any thief with business sense knows that the Guildmaster would be a useful friend to have.”

“So… they’re, what, bribing me?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘bribing’. Giving you an incentive to keep an eye out for your friends, more like.”

“So I’m accepting friend bribes, now?”

Brynjolf just made a face that clearly said “You said it, not me”. You just stuck your tongue out at him and kept eating your sweet roll. This earned another chuckle from Brynjolf, and you both finished your drinks in a nice silence.

“You know, those two get along too well, Delvin.”
“Ah, you jealous, Vex? Of which one?”
“I’d be careful, Mallory, otherwise you’ll get an up close and personal look at my boot in your face.”
“Come on, now. You and Tonilia are so hostile whenever I bring up those two. Why can’t I ever get a little love?”
“When you stop getting ‘firs’ and ‘furs’ confused. That’s right- I still haven’t forgotten that heist.”
“… Forget I said anything.”

He gets sick :(

When they are sick.

What he has: Kidney Stones :(
   You had woken up that morning to a loud cry coming from the restroom. Standing up you saw that he was sitting on the ground crying in pain. You quickly held him and helped him to his bed. Although he continued to walk around but that only made things worse. The doctor arrived and gave him some strong drugs to help him. But you still pitied him. You kept him close and helped him through the next few days. Eventually it passed.
(not so) Fun fact: Some women say they would rather go through child Birth than Kidney stones. :(

What he has: Stress Migraines
   Hadvar had come home very late that night for the third time this week. He had barely laid down in your bed when the sun had hit your bed and woken you up. You turned to see Hadvar holding his head. “Ahhh.” he groaned and turned to look at you as you moved. “What?” he said bitterly, much to your surprise. Quickly turning to get him some tea you pushed him into the covers. “That’s it. You’re going to rest for the rest of the week.” You said sternly.

What he has: chicken pox
“RAAAAUUUURRRRRGGGGGG” a loud voice growled as you rolled your eyes and mixed together oatmeal and other ingredients and mashing it into a paste.
“YOU SHUT IT!” the nord shouted and you heard a heavy thud and groan. You rolled your eyes and walked over into Vilkas’s room. He rolled all over the floor scratching violently at the red dots at his skin. You kicked him gently in the butt. “Vilkas! Stop scratching your sores! Put this in it instead!” you said sternly and set the bowl of oatmeal on his nightstand. Vilkas glared but did what you asked begrudgingly. Mumbling on how you and your stupid alchemy can stay out of this. You rolled your eyes but smiled as.he sighed in relief with the cream on his sores.

What he has: pneumonia
Farkas just HAD to run into the freezing lake to catch a fish since he was hungry, hadn’t he? You rolled your eyes but winced hearing the pained coughing as your wiped some hair out of his pale face. Frowning as his face looked pained. “Farkas…. I have to go soon.” you said and touched his face gently. He frowned and looked up at you with big eyes. Upset. “I am coming with you!” he said stubbornly, sitting up. You quickly tried to push the bigger nord down. “No! Vilkas will take care of you! You…” you finally pushed him down onto his back only to be pulled against his chest. “Are sick!“ you said sternly. Farkas took no heed and continued to fight against your hands. Eventually it took Skjor, Vilkas, you, and strong Tilma to hold him down long enough to convince Farkas to stay. He frowned at you but stayed in bed. Ever waiting for your return from the market.

What he has: common mild cold
What he thinks he has: death is coming he is going to die soon and it is all your fault
Marcutio was a brat when he felt sick, which didn’t surprise you. The whiney magician was only worse when he had gotten a cold from a quest to solitude. "This is all your fault.” he said in a nasally voice. Sniffing pitifully he buried himself deeper into the furs. You rolled your eyes and walked over and handed him the healing mug of tea and said. “If you don’t want me here I can just leave ” you said and stood up but quickly Marcutio changed his mind and clung to your waist with surprising strength. “Please don’t go!” he cried. You sighed. It was going to be a long day.

What he has: A Hangover
He should have known not to challenged Vex to a drinking contest. Worse, he knew that you would not be happy about it, since you were trying to intervene with his constant drinking for his health. So, in an attempt to escape your wrath, he tried to walk out the ragged flagon and had landed on his face. Great. You quickly walked over and crossed your arms and Brynjolf winced.
“AHHH THATS COLD!” cried Brynjolf as you slapped a freezing rag on his head and it dripped down his shoulders. You rolled your eyes and put the tea in his hands.
“You are grounded from drinking for the rest of the week.” you said sternly. Brynjolf guffawed. “You can’t GROUND me!” he retorted. You gave him a blank look. “Or you can sleep separate and in your own cot.”
“…..yes lass.”

What he has: allergies
You didn’t think Jzargo couldd get sick so easily, but alas you found out. It was the beginning of spring, and everyone was adjusting to the warming weather. You and Jzargo had decided to go on a walk together into the town. And while you held his hand you heard the most terrifying roar behind you. “RAUUURGGGGCHHHOOOO”
You tripped over your own feet, that was how loud it was. Quickly looking around you turned to see your beloved kaijiit covering his face sniffling. And roared or…what you guessed… Sneezed.. Into his elbow. You frowned and touched his cheek and saw his eyes were watery.
“Jzargo you have….allergies?” you said and took his hand. He grunted but nodded. “Yes, Jzargo seems quite sensitive to all the woodlands. His head hurts… But we can still go.”
“No.” you said sternly and took his hand “we are going inside today. Maybe we can make a medicine. But for now lets rest.”
Jzargo did not argue. Happy to be close to you his beloved.

So some of my most popular posts on tumblr have been involving Elder Scrolls lore.  Last I checked, that Khajiit thing had about 11k notes… (yet meanwhile my actual mods that I pour hours of effort into get practically none, but no matter).

Anyways, here’s an interesting bit of lore for you.

Some of you might have seen books such as “The Biography of Barenziah” and “The Real Barenziah” lying around here and there. Barenziah was a Dunmer woman, and probably one of the most (if not the most) influential female figures in all of Tamriel’s history. Barenziah was the Queen of Wayrest, and eventually the Queen of Morrowind. She also conceived an illegitimate child with Tiber Septim, and was partially responsible for defeating the evil sorcerer Jagar Tharn, an imposter of Emperor Uriel Septim VII.

What most in-game books won’t tell you however, are the more intimate details of her youth. For that, you’ll have to go all the way back to Daggerfall.

In Daggerfall, Barenziah herself gives you a quest to prevent someone from publishing a biography full of her secrets, “The Real Barenziah”. She claims that, like everyone else, she did foolish things as a young adult that she doesn’t want the world to know about.

Eventually, the book does get published of course, since we know it today from Morrowind, Oblivion, and Skyrim. The version in these games though has been edited and censored by the Temple (at least, that’s the lore explanation for it).

In the book she pulls off some Mulan tier shit when she’s 17. After her family sought asylum in Skyrim because of a nasty revolt in Morrowind, she ran away from home with a Nord boy, had sex with him, and then told him she wanted an open relationship (although he didn’t). So she ran off to Riften and frequently dressed as a boy to hide her identity. She also tried to sign up for the Thieves Guild. And here’s where things get extra saucy in the ORIGINAL Manuscript.

It is revealed that (and I am not making this shit up, this was legitimately in an Elder Scrolls game. this isn’t some saucy fanfiction) “in the barroom” (presumably the Ragged Flagon underneath Riften, but this was hundreds of years ago so it could have been referring to a different place) she spoke to a large Khajiit by the name of Therris. She offered, rather bluntly, to sleep with him if he would sponsor her to become a Thieves Guild member. And then, in a very passionate and hotly detailed scene, he rather suddenly gropes her, pulls down her shirt, and fucks her in front of the whole bar. Most of the bar patrons are ambivalent to the incident, though they do take note. The sex is apparently so simultaneously ecstatic and painful that she passes out. When she comes to, it’s revealed that the reason it was so painful was because, according to Therris, Khajiit have barbed dicks.

I am not making this shit up.

I wish I was.

The Elder Scrolls: where all your questions, from the metaphysics of the universe to the shape of a Khajiit’s penis, can be answered if you dig deep enough in the lore.

Later in that same volume of the Biography, Barenziah has a conversation with a Nord friend of hers, Katisha, and Katisha tells Barenziah that there is apparently a big stereotype that young Dunmer women are promiscuous and often become prostitutes.

Gee, I wonder why?

Anyways, there’s something for you to chew on next time you’re at the Ragged Flagon in Riften. Next time you’re there, you’ll know that in all likelihood, Barenziah, Queen of Wayrest and Morrowind, was brutally and publicly fucked in that very room.

(source for all of the above: )

I picked up Skyrim again and installed some new mods. Sofia got a slightly different looking face before starting her spree of breaking and entering her way through Whiterun. She’s currently in Riften making heart eyes at Brynjolf and stealing everything that isn’t nailed down.

Someone asked me to so here's the first chapter of the Brynjolf fanfic I'm writing instead of doing the work I'm supposed to be doing. Warning: It gets a little steamy.

Never Turn Your Back on a Thief, Lass- Chapter 1

“Shit. Hand me another one,” she whispered as the lockpick snapped in her hand. One was produced almost instantly as she inserted it into the stubborn lock. Deftly she pierced the point through the keyhole, adjusting the distance and positioning as she gently turned the whole device. Eyes locked on the pick in concentration, she didn’t move an inch as she heard the soft growl behind her.

“You’re so good with your hands, lass”.

The lockpick clicked into place.

“Damn you. Damn you to Evergloam,” she hissed as she pressed the door open a crack, and his hands found her waist. Each one of his fingers wrapped around her individually, as he took his time grabbing her. They both knew she would take a good thirty seconds opening the door. It was an old piece of construction, and the chance of rusty, noisy hinges was high. Not worth the risk. But getting to touch her curves? Worth the risk every time.

“Darling, need I remind you that we have a job to do?”

“It’s watching you do the job that makes me like this”.

“You’re always like this, Bryn”.

The door stood open enough for them to squeeze through. A dark room awaited them, which was a bit of a surprise. The traditional Skyrim lack of windows always made things a bit harder for the Thieves Guild members, but it was a safe bet that there would be at least a few candles on in every room of most houses. Though the door was old, it had been sturdy, and they both had attributed the lack of light bleed to that as opposed to an actual lack of light. This was disconcerting.

“Stay behind me”.

His warm hands moved down cup her hips, straying for a moment to squeeze her ass. “You don’t have to tell me twice”.

Her entire body stayed completely still except for her left hand, which flung up towards his face in an effort to give him a small smack for his lasciviousness. Despite the dark and her silence, he caught it with his own, the breeze of the movement causing the cape of her Nightengale armor to rustle. After the catch, he brought her hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the scar on the top of her hand before nibbling and suckling on her wrist. He loved how she took her gloves off when she knew a lock wouldn’t be too difficult to pick. In an instant, his right fingers were in her purse, and then he was pulling her glove over her hand, before catching her right and sheathing it as well.

“This dark has me nervous, lass, you may want these”.

“You lech”.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way”.

They began to move through the room. It was clearly a dining space, but the table wasn’t set. No place settings were at all visible, just a long table with benches. The shelves around the room were bare, and there were no chests. Lousy for looting. There were no cobwebs, the house was inhabited and apparently cleaned regularly enough. Though it was dark due to the lack of candles, the small stream of moonlight in from the door would have reflected off of a cobweb, plate, or goblet. Thankfully, it would not reflect off of their armor. They belonged to the night, to Nocturnal. And their job tonight was not to loot this house.

The next room was the kitchen, and yet the cookfire was completely out. No burning embers, even. Either no one had been here for at least a day, or there had been a concerted effort to make it look as such. No food sat out in the kitchen, not even wheels of cheese or gourds. A lone bottle of Alto wine perched longingly on a shelf over the hearth. She turned her neck slightly to survey the rest of the space, and when she returned it, the bottle was gone.

With a smirk she could sense through the darkness, he caressed her ear with his brogue. “For our celebration later”.

Stairs beckoned them to the second floor, where they were met by another door. This time, he took the lead, pressing the back of his hand against the wood, standing to the side in case of a trap. She took the opportunity for payback. As he focused on the room ahead, her fingers languidly brushed his hip, and her breath danced against his neck. That’s what he gets for choosing to not wear the facial mask of his armor. Exposure means weakness, and she planned to exploit. Her mouth drew closer to his sensitive skin and she could feel him shudder as her tongue reached out to touch him. She blew on the now wet spot as the door opening grew wide enough for them to slip through.

He slithered through first, leading with his head, then torso, and then the rest of his body. Once again, the room was dark. And it was just one room, another common feature in smaller Skyrim houses. The bed was unoccupied, and if the chamber pot had been used, it had been emptied a long time ago, because the only pervasive smell of the room came from the rotting mountain flowers in a vase near the door.

That’s when she spotted their prize. A plain iron sword with a subtle green glow. Probably the cheapest item they had ever been asked to retrieve. But, it had belonged to Arnskar Ember-Master, the blacksmith who had taken up residence next to the Ragged Flagon. It was apparently the first sword that he had ever smithed, and it had been lifted off of him years ago while traveling between towns. Though it was not worth nearly anything due to content, it had an enchantment that allowed the user to capture souls, and had a deep emotional attachment for the smith. He was paying them a pretty penny to get it back. Usually, they would have sent a lesser guild member out for such a job, but, well, Arnskar was one of their own. They wanted to make sure that the job was done right. For more than two decades, the Thieves Guild had languished in relative obscurity, made fun of by legitimate and illegitimate merchants alike, and just within the last year had the Guild returned to its former glory. Keeping their personal merchants happy would aid in making certain that the Guild sustained. Their people needed armor, and as excellent as Tonilia and their other fences were in acquisitions, having an in-house smith made an incredible difference in their ability to increase member morale… and not get killed.

Before he could react, the sword was in her belt. It fit a sheath from one of her personal weapons nearly perfectly, as Arnskar had told her that it would. She had brought the sheath along for just that purpose, and the glow of the weapon was almost entirely extinguished.

“Well. That was easy,” she smiled, as she sauntered towards him.

“Almost too easy. We probably could have sent one of the new recruits on this job”.

“But then we wouldn’t have had this time alone, would we, Bryn?” she smiled as she lit a match, and took it to a half-melted candle on the table. The room illuminated to reveal a humongous bed covered in flowers, and more bottles of wine. “Did you really think I didn’t know that you set this up?”

“I guessed that you did, lass. But, I wasn’t sure”.

“Oh, really?” She bit her lip as she took another step towards him. Her eyes lowered to his chest and then slowly, torturously scanned back up to his eyes as both of them held their breath. “Don’t lie to your Guild Master”.

“It’s only because of me that you became Guild Master. Everyone else thought it would be me”.

“How fitting then that it essentially turned out to be us”.

“Aye,” his voice dropped to a throaty growl as he closed the distance between them, removing his gloves as he stepped. One hand raised to lower the mask of her armor, exposing her face to his gaze. By Nocturnal, she was the loveliest creature he had ever seen. And she was his.

Before he could kiss her, she brought a gloveless finger to his lips with a sigh. “Why all the romance? Why the flowers? I love it, but is this some special occasion?” Her eyebrow twitched nearly imperceptibly.

Brynjolf stepped back, arms out wide. “You wound me. I’m always a romantic. Am I not allowed to treat my lady to a special night?”

A sensual laugh caused her body to flow through the candlelight, and she turned around and walked towards a desk to remove her sword belt as she spoke. “Of course, darling. But you have to admit, this is a lot, even for you. Not that we’ve never fucked in a mark’s house before, but this display is downright touching”.

The sword clanged the floor as strong hands grabbed both her biceps and pinned her from behind, forcing her hips against the desk. “Never turn your back on a thief, lass”.

His teeth grasped her hood as his head nuzzled hers, removing the covering, exposing her beautiful hair, her delicate ears. Her ears, where his teeth traveled next, nibbling on the top, all the way down to the lobe. He caught the stud of her earring in his mouth, and worked around it with his tongue. Her body responded in a full shiver. His lips them overtook her entire ear, as breathily he moaned, “You never know what they might take from you”.

She tried to turn to face him, but he held her tight. But she felt something odd. There was something on his chest, pressing into her neck. Could it… After a deep intake of breath that came more like a gasp after his ministrations on her ear, she punched her right arm down towards the ground to remove his grip, and flung her left over her head as she bounced up to land her ass on the desk, counting on him to not let go of her left arm. He didn’t disappoint. Now, she sat on the desk, her left arm around his neck. He was at her mercy. With her right arm, she removed his hood, and began to walk her fingers down his neck as she mover her mouth to his ear.

“Now what have we here, lad?”

Her fingers encircled the necklace, and her surprise made her loosen her grip. He spun to face her, bringing her legs around his hips as he caught her by the waist, her arms still around his neck. Beautiful. She was so beautiful always, but her features now were more wonderful than he had ever seen. She knew what it was. Her eyes wide, her limps plump and a deep pink, with tiny indents where she had bit them to contain her arousal. Her cheeks flushed with need. He grinned, and removed one hand to pull the pendant out from beneath his armour.

“By the gods, Brynjolf?” her lower lip tremored as she stared at the Amulet of Mara.

“Lass. Will you marry me?”



You were taken to a stormcloak camp with Ralof as he was trying to get you to join the force. He smiled at you before walking off to talk to the leader. A charming young nord walked up to you and grinned boasting about the cave bear he said he bad slaughtered with his bare hands. As he was talking you listened intently as he told his story. Ralof suddenly pushed between you and him taking your hand. He gruffly said “come on y/n you watched kill five all at once.” The nord growled and glared at the newcomer. You frowned but had no room to argue as suddenly you were pulled with Ralof away to his part of camp.


He usually was known for his ability to stay calm and control his emotions in most situations even with you. So many of the fellow Imperial men took it as a sign that you and the nord did not date. Which was a really really bad decision. One day you were coming to the camp to give Hadvar a nice home cooked meal when you were stopped by some of the other soldiers to be flirted with. But when Hadvar saw his face turned red and he quickly began yelling at the men to go back to do brutal training. It was fun for you to watch


Vilkas was a jealous man, from the beginning of his life it was always Farkas who was stronger, nicer, and more good looking. Although he loved his twin when he saw that his brother and you taking quietly by the fireplace he quickly snapped and said “Whelp! Get over here and bring my sword to the skyforge!” You didn’t know why Vilkas was acting so odd, but when Farkas made a joke about it. Vilkas growled and stomped out.


Although a slow fellow Farkas knew that jealousy was a nasty business. So when you his close friend and crush had decided to spend a night in the pub with Torvar and Athis he was quick to hide the spark of jealousy. But he decided to stick around and was quick to make sure the drunken Torvar treated you right when you all had returned that night. Although Farkas was happy to hear from Aela that neither of them had been able to snatch your interest.


Marcurio, was absolutely livid when he had heard that you had let another man go along with you during your adventures when he was not around. “If you needed me to come you could have just asked!” The mage whined to you one day. You rolled your eyes.

“Marcurio you must understand that there are timed when you would be more of a pain than help.” you said. The mage scoffed

“Like when?”

“Do you remember that time you went just 14 hours without eating?-

“Shut up!”


Although things weren’t necessarily the ritz at the thieves guild. Brynjolf was confident and thought that he had already had your attention. So when he came and found you and Rune happily conversing at the ragged flagon late into the night a strike of uncertainty went through him. You were the first woman that had not been swooned by his charm. Worse. It seemed you were interested in another. That night Brynjolf tossed and turned listening into your conversation about skeevers. Never had he felt so restless jealous and VULNERABLE in his life.


I almost cried when I found this letter lying tossed aside in the Ragged Flagon one day. It’s no secret Delvin loves Vex, but she’s got no love for anything but the Guild and money. I’ve been secretly trying to nudge her towards getting together with Delvin over the years, but she refuses to have a bar of it. Anyone want to help poor Delvin out? I think Delvex would be a gorgeous couple, don’t you? ~Talviel