#tescheer2023

Another round of laughter interrupted her thoughts. The Guild Master's gaze tracked around the tavern and felt something tugging in her chest - thieves gathered around the bar, drinks half finished and heads thrown back in laughter. It felt like a lifetime ago that she'd been part of their group, free from the constant weight of responsibility she now bore.

When she'd been awarded with the position of Guild Master it had felt like such an honor, a reward for what she'd endured. As the months dragged by she'd begun to realize why no one else was eager for the job. Mercer had enough thieving to last them a lifetime, which left her with little more than a never ending pile of paperwork and a persistent headache. 

"C'mon, lass." Brynjolf placed a mug of ale atop her list and the Guild Master grit her teeth. "Celebrate with us." 

"I have tasks to finish." She attempted to wave him off, though a hand around her wrist stopped whatever protest came next. Brynjolf's cheeks were slightly pink and his armor was unbuckled to reveal a dark shirt. Despite her best efforts she hadn't been able to stomp out that damned crush on him. It had stuck around since that first fateful encounter. The smile on his lips seemed to melt away all her worries when he guided her out of the chair. 

"It's almost the new year." He countered and she knew her resolve wouldn't last. She tried to remain wary but the excited chatter only grew as an ancient clock ticked down the seconds. The Guild Master's head felt fuzzy when Brynjolf's hand rested on her lower back, guiding her deeper into the crowd. Surrounded by old friends and new recruits, she allowed herself a moment of relaxation. 

"Been one hell of a year." Delvin's gruff voice cut through the rest, all conversations quieting. The Guild Master's cheeks burned when he raised his mug and nodded in her direction. "But with the help of Brynjolf and his favorite little recruit, we've finally righted the ship." 

Brynjolf's rich laugh warmed her heart. He remained close and bore an easy smile she'd seen less often during the past few weeks. He looked comfortable, like he could finally relax. A large hand patted her on the shoulder the Guild Master's stomach sank as all eyes turned to her. She prayed that they wouldn't expect a motivational speech.

"Choosin’ you is still the best decision I’ve ever made." His voice dripped with sentimentality and breathing became difficult. His gaze always knocked her off balance, heart skittering out of control and hands clumsy when he looked at her. She tended to ignore the childish crush, stuffing feelings down until they became easy to avoid. But as the last minute of their tumultuous year slipped away it was dangerously easy to grow closer to him, those old feelings bubbling to the surface. 

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" 

"I should get back to work." She breathed, enticed by the way Brynjolf had drifted closer. Bodies jostled as thieves joined in on a chant, counting down until the beginning of a new year. 

"Seven! Six!" 

"Is that what you want?" His words were heavy with another meaning she couldn't hope to discern. The Guild Master's throat ran dry when she recalled the old tradition - the myth that kissing your partner as the clock struck midnight heralded a prosperous new year. Brynjolf's deep green eyes took in every move she made and she knew she could reject him now, could flee to her desk and hide behind her work. 

"Five!" 

"No." She answered finally, hands trembling at her sides. Someone's elbow jabbed into her back as they hurried past, sending her stumbling closer to Brynjolf.

"Four!" 

"What do you want then, lass?" Deep and sultry, his words broke the last of her resolve. 

"Three! Two!"

Her eyes fluttered closed and her heart sang when she swallowed against the cowardly urge to back out. She'd sold her soul to a Daedric Prince and faced off against unbeatable foes, she could be brave for this one moment.

"One!" 

Kissing him was messy, arms flung around his shoulders and noses bumping together. He tasted like ale but the Guild Master paid it no mind. Brynjolf's hands steadied her, chuckling into the kiss. One strong arm wrapped around her waist and she was in heaven, Brynjolf's lips moving so easily against hers. It was better than all those little fantasies that had floated around in her mind over the years, clumsy yet perfect. Somewhere off in the distance she heard someone hollering her name but nothing mattered other than his kiss.

She didn't open her eyes when he pulled away, forehead pressed to hers. A soft kiss landed on her overheated cheek but she couldn't look quite yet. Her cheeks burned when she heard one of the thieves wolf whistling and fought to stay in this blissful little moment with Brynjolf.

Caylene looked out over the great basin below, pulling her cloak tighter around her armored frame. The nights in Hammerfell were deathly cold, particularly as it neared Saturalia - even without snow, frostbite had claimed extremities of some of the less well traveled men who hadn’t expected it.

Footfalls trampled up the wooden steps to the ramparts, and the Breton felt Senti’s soft palm resting on her arm through the cloak. “Homesick?” The Redguard asked in a low tone, leaning in for warmth.

“In a way. I think I miss the snow. Da could trudge through it up to his waist as if he were walking on an Imperial road. He went out late to find strong wood, and stayed up all night to carve me figurines.” Caylene rummaged in her side pack for a moment before producing a small, wooden knight on horseback. He had painted it in the heraldry of Daggerfall. “He used to tell me, ‘I can only hope you learn the craft; Clan Luzgarz made half of its wealth from sculpting’ and I would only nod. He told that story so many times I could repeat it in my sleep.”

Senti’s lips curled at the corners. “Dear, you already have. You mumble for hours.” 

Caylene cleared her throat, slipping the item back into her bag. “Yes, well. There’s much on my mind.”

"I still feel bad," Tahir sighed in Vilkas' ear. "It feels odd to be attending something like this without Farkas and Firien. Especially on her name day."

"Trust me," Vilkas replied as they stepped in the gradually lengthening line to enter the Mare. "If they're not here, it's because they don't want to be. Plus, her name day is still a week off. Hulda just decided to 'open the bottle' early."

Tahir frowned. "What day is it?"

"Of the month? Or the week?" He grinned at Tahir's glare. "It's the fifteenth, my love."

A loud cheer rose up from within the Bannered Mare, and the opening notes of a jaunty tune floated out to meet them. It was damned cold, and Vilkas was eager to join the other attendees. Hulda was to start serving the mead soon.

"So six days, not seven," said Tahir with a roll of his eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, but you don't even know basic arithmetic."

"Technically five, if you count the fact that it's night," Vilkas said.

"Four, if you count the fact that her name day technically starts at night."

"Would that not make it her name night, then?"

"Ugh, is this how you two flirt?" Njada's grumpy voice said from behind them. "By talking about studies?"

"To be fair, I don't even know if what we're saying is at all accurate," Tahir said as he looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. "But yes, actually. I find his intelligence to be quite alluring."

"Eugh, don't say it like that," said Athis. "It sounds far too sexual for the context."

"But it is," replied Tahir with a frown, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made Vilkas certain that whatever was about to come from his mouth would be incredibly embarrassing. "Sometimes I like to make him talk about subjects of a scholarly nature while I suck his—"

Vilkas hastily clapped a hand over Tahir's mouth, cutting him off, but the damage was done. Njada and Athis were guffawing loudly. His cheeks and ears warmed. "Keep that up and next time I'll be sure to stay silent."

"Oh, but I can still suck your cock? Seems unfair."

"To you," Vilkas responded, smirking. "To me it sounds just fine."

They reached the front of the line, where Ulfberth War-bear was standing beside the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest in a rather intimidating manner. But Vilkas was unfazed by the threatening appearance of his long-time friend.

"I hope Hulda is paying you well to stand out here like this," he said.

"Of course." Ulfberth cracked a toothy smile, just barely visible beneath his thick, black beard. "It was voluntary, in case folks like Mikael get out of hand, but Hulda promised me a crate of her mead. Tried to tell her off, but she insisted."

"Where's Adrianne?" Tahir asked.

"Oh, around," said Ulfberth. "Last I saw, she was with Farkas over by the bar."

"Farkas?" Vilkas frowned. "I thought he and Firien were... elsewhere."

"If by elsewhere, you mean in here, yeah," he said as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "They've been here for a while, helping Hulda prepare. The Huntsman brothers, too. They shut down for the evening for this."

"Wow, way to make us look like the backside of a mammoth," Njada said. "Anyone else we need to glare at with annoyance?"

Ulfberth laughed loudly. "Other than Saadia, Ysolda, and Olfina? No, I don't think so. Don't you be causin' no trouble, either, Stonearm, or it'll be me you deal with." Njada's eyes brightened at the challenge, but he was shaking his head. "Don't give me that look. Now get in there, the lot of you. You're holding up the line."

Not needing to be told twice, the four of them hurried inside, though there was little space for them to occupy. Usually, the Bannered Mare was only this crowded for the pinnacle of the New Life Festival, but that was still more than a week away. Vilkas hoped Hulda had enough mead to keep everyone happy, but he had never known her to run out of anything, much less her seasonal blends. 

It was loud, but cheerful, with music and voices melding together in the air and creating a welcoming atmosphere. The smell of food hung heavily in a thick fog over them, tantalizing and inviting. Despite how crowded it was, everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and Hulda manned the bar with Elrindir, both of them rosy-cheeked and smiling as they served a gleeful group of Nords. Behind Hulda, Saadia and Ysolda were running about, gathering food and plates, which they handed off to Olfina, who was hurrying them out to waiting patrons. Anoriath was fluttering from table to table, taking orders and reporting them back to Adrianne, who called them back to Saadia and Ysolda.

It was an interesting system, but no one seemed upset or overwhelmed despite the size of the inn's attendance.

Tahir nudged Vilkas suddenly and nodded in the direction he was looking, which was upward. Vilkas followed his gaze to see Firien sitting on one of the rafters, her back resting against one of the beams that supported the Mare's roof. Farkas sat with her, both legs dangling over the crowd and his hands on the rafter as he met Vilkas' eyes and grinned. 

"Ugh, she always has to make a show of it, doesn't she?" Njada said. "We get it, she likes to be tall or whatever."

"You sound envious," said Athis mockingly. "I thought with those stone arms of yours, climbing wouldn't be that difficult, but I suppose you're too dense to make it off the gr— ow!"

He was interrupted by Njada punching him in the upper arm. He swore loudly and made to retaliate, but Vilkas stopped him.

"Behave," he said warningly. Athis nodded, his cheeks flushed deep purple, while Njada let out a triumphant, "Ha-ha!" and stuck her tongue out at him. "You too. Are you children or grown warriors?"

"I can be childish every so often," replied Njada indignantly. "Anyway, I'm going to the bar. If I get roped into helping, Vilkas, it's on you."

Without another word, she disappeared into the crowd. Athis gave them a sheepish grin before following, slipping between people with unusual ease.

"He's sweet on her, I swear," said Tahir, lifting two goblets from the tray Anoriath held as he walked by. He handed one to Vilkas, ignoring the disapproving look Vilkas gave him. "There's no other way to explain how he follows her around like a lost pup."

"Poor Torvar," he responded as Tahir took his hand and guided him through the throngs of people. "He's the only one who hasn't found love among the Companions. Sometimes I swear we're more like a matchmaking service than a guild of warriors."

"I mean, you group a bunch of people roughly the same age together and this sort of thing is bound to happen." Tahir jerked his chin toward Farkas and Firien again as they passed beneath their rafter. "It's animal magnetism or whatever. Besides, Athis being sweet on Njada doesn't mean she reciprocates that."

"I don't like how much thought you've put into that," said Vilkas. Tahir made a noise of exclamation as they found a miraculously empty table and he practically leapt into one of the chairs. Vilkas followed suit and sat across from him. "But you're saying Torvar has a chance, then? Be it Njada or Athis?"

He was jesting, of course, and he hoped Tahir knew that. Kodlak was never strictly against relationships forming within the Companions, but he certainly never encouraged it. It was a matter Vilkas himself felt conflicted on as Harbinger. He felt like a hypocrite.

"Or a bottle," said Tahir, laughing. "I'm sure he'd pick that over anyone else."

"So be it." Vilkas shook his head. "Makes my job easier, at least. Gods know the Companions don't need anymore drama."

"Oh, having some regrets, are you?" Tahir folded his arms on the table and leaned toward him, a challenge in his eyes.

"Never," said Vilkas. "I'm offended you would even suggest it."

Tahir leaned the rest of the way across the table and captured his lips in a kiss, his hand finding its way to cup Vilkas' face. Vilkas responded in kind and pressed closer to Tahir, but before he could really get into it, something collided with the side of his head before landing on the table with a clatter. It was small, and wasn't enough to hurt, but enough to have him pull away from Tahir and look around wildly, offended anyone would dare interrupt him.

His eyes landed on Firien, who held a handful of something in her left hand with her right poised over her shoulder, reading to throw another of the mystery objects she held. He looked down at the table, and saw it was a walnut that had been coated in sugar and baked. She threw a candied nut at his head.

Beside her, Farkas was giggling uncontrollably, his cheeks red and his eyes shining with amusement and Vilkas realized it had been his idea. He glared at his brother, which only caused Farkas to laugh harder. Even Firien looked like she was suppressing a smile.

"Have you ever considered killing the both of them?" Tahir wondered aloud, his voice sounding a bit dreamy. "I know it would be bad, but sometimes..."

"No, Tahir, I don't," replied Vilkas as another walnut hit him in the shoulder. "But tonight, I think I'll make an exception."

As he spoke, Farkas nearly lost his balance, lurching wildly and Firien shot out a hand to steady him. It was then that Vilkas noticed the silver goblets between them, the silver of their metal shining merrily in the torchlight. He wondered why they decided the rafters were a good place to drink.

"Or we can wait til the alcohol does it for us," said Tahir idly as he took a sip from his own goblet. "Besides, I don't want to get arrested before we try Hulda's mead."

"Good point," Vilkas agreed. He took a sip of his own drink then set it down on the table. "In the meantime, we should do our most to annoy Firien."